The Office Lady free porn video

I was staring around my office as I felt my rage growing. I felt as if everything in my life was crashing around me. Everything I was groomed for seemed to be hollow. I looked around my office at my anxious underlings. That was not an uncommon sight. I was a 25-year-old executive in the family business. They knew if they complained about me, they would be the ones fired. They had children and spouses and could not afford to lose their jobs so they held their tongues. I felt as if I could berate them in anyway I wanted, and at that moment, I felt like giving them a verbal lashing for failing to be as productive as I felt they should be. My feelings were groundless, however. They were a product of being spoiled since my birth with everything I wanted and placed into a high paying job I lacked the experience or temperament for. I was young, wealthy and unhappy. Nothing was ever good enough for my father, and everything seemed too much for me. I knew my subordinates resented me. They had more time on the job, more experience, generally, and many had more skills. Most of them would have been better at my job than I was. I knew it, and they knew it. I was living proof that life is not fair and that the job market is not a meritocracy. At times, even I realized that I was the embodiment of everything that was wrong with the modern business world. I was well educated, but it really was not useful in a practical way. I held my job because of blood, despite my lack of either ability or effort. I was the kind of person whose hands I saw corporations frequently fall into to their peril. As I looked at those faces, I went into a tantrum. All the pressure of the business that had been building around me came to a head, and I melted down. I screamed at my underlings. I yelled every curse I could think of. I even heard a threat of violence come out of my mouth. I instantly wanted to take it back, but it was out there. I was also too aggravated to change course. I threw up my hands and headed out the door. I sped home and slammed the front door. I was shaking a little. I was experiencing something I had never dealt with before. Shortly after I got home, I heard a knock on the door. I went and opened it and saw my father staring back at me. He pushed me aside and closed the door. He looked me over with concern in his eyes. I knew I had let him down. I tried to put on my best face, but I was still shaking with a grimace on my face. My father let me know that he had heard about my incident at work. He was not pleased. He told me that I had to take a year off and fix myself. I did not know what he meant. He elaborated that he wanted me to get some rest and relaxation and come back ready to take a role in the family business. I nodded and accepted it. I did not fight his suggestion. I know he probably wanted me to, but I never desired the kind of work I did the way he did. He wanted to be the person the buck stopped with; I always wilted under the pressure. I figured I could take the year off and readjust myself. I would relax for a few months and then set about turning myself into the man my father wanted me to be. But before I could be a man, I felt that I needed to be a woman I wanted to be. I could not admit that to my father though. I knew that I had to keep my plans secret from him as well as everyone else. My desires were shameful in the eyes of most, even myself at times. Wearing women's clothes was a release from my distress in the past, but I found it distressing in and of itself from time to time. I knew of the place that I needed to go to be able to pass as a woman without anyone realizing who I was. I had to go out under deep cover given the shame I would bring on my family if I was caught. I contacted a clinic that specialized in making people look differently on a temporary basis. I had researched them for years and even partially bank rolled some of its expansion two years ago. I made my arrangements and headed in there the next day. I checked myself in under an alias and was taken in for my transformation. Even though my transformation would not be extensive in how much time it consumed, I would have to remain there for a week while the clinic made my post transformation arrangements. I knew exactly what I wanted to be, and I gave them detailed instructions. I wanted to be a Japanese Office Lady. I had spent months of my life in Japan working with companies that did business with my father's. My father had significant ties to these businesses since my youth. As a result, my father made me take Japanese when everyone else I knew took Spanish as a second language. I did not take the study of it seriously until I went to Japan for a week at the age of 12. When I got there, I was struck by urban scenery that was quite different from the type I was used to seeing. I was awestruck really. I doubled down on my studies of Japanese when I got back home figuring that it would enable me to convince my father to send me back there from time to time. The study encompassed me for a while. I became fluent in the language. This helped a little in my father's negotiations. The Japanese businessmen he dealt with mostly spoke English, but now they could not converse in a language that one of us could not understand. I relayed their full statements to my father. It was during one of my business visits to Japan that I first caught a glimpse of an office lady. She was young, probably no more than 25. She was pretty and almost impossibly thin. I can still see her eyes and the dark brown hair falling around her face. I saw other office ladies beside her. They all entranced me. It had to be something about the position that drew me towards them. I did not otherwise have a fetish for Asian women. I did not find the average Asian woman better looking than the average girl of any other race. I was just inexplicably drawn to these women. I loved how they all dressed so similarly from business to business. Every time I saw one at work, they were neatly dressed according to the policies of their employer. They did non-stressful tasks like paper clipping documents, delivering memos and filing. I liked most how they made and served us tea with a courteous smile. I knew those girls had no advancement prospects and no pressure. I could not think of a better way to get away from my stress then being one of them, if only for a little while. I planed all the details out with the clinic. I was going to be one of these girls. I was going to be a little younger than I was. Though I was only 25, I figured it would be safer to go there with documentation of a 23 year old. I did not want my boss trying to marry me off to get me off the job like I had seen some do during my business trips. I was sure 25 was still a safe age, but I wanted to be even safer. I made a request for a company that required its Office ladies to wear skirts to work and the clinic was obliging. As the clinic finished making arrangements for me, I was taken in for my transformation. I was already slender. I was sometimes called alarmingly thin by my mother when she was still around. I stood 5'8" so I was would be taller than most woman I was around, but it was not enough to arouse suspicion about my gender. The clinic started with my body first. I was dressed in a hospital dress and sent in for hair removal. They told me it would last the 6 months I requested it for. I loved how the lotion tickled my legs, chest and underarms before it was wiped away along with the disgusting dark body hair. With that taken care of, they turned to my hair next. I was given extensions. I watched as the long strands were attached with precision to my short hair. I found myself turned on by the transformation I was undergoing. I crossed my legs, thigh over thigh to try to conceal it. That just drew unnecessary attention to it. The girl working on my hair smirked and whispered in my ear, "All guys that go femme here get wood." I blushed and she finished putting on the extensions. After that, she dyed my hair into a uniform reddish brown color. I was not given any treatment on my nails besides a clear coat of polish. I was informed that nail polish was not permitted by the employer the clinic made arrangements with. After that, I was sent in for dental work. I had good teeth. They were not good enough for the clinic though. I was given veneers that left me with a dazzling white smile. They made my canine teeth look less pronounced in my mouth. I really felt I had a woman's smile when they were done. I was then taking in for my prosthetics. They started working on my throat first off. I was amazed by how perfectly they were able to conceal my Adam's apple. They then placed on my fake breasts and vagina. I was amazed by how realistic they look and felt. The woman doing the prosthetics then turned her attention to my face. She started to work around my eyes. I watched her work around them as best I could in the mirror. I glanced in the mirror with a smile as they finished the work around my eyes. I felt as if I was totally becoming this woman I wanted to be for a while, that I was turning Japanese. Work was then done on my nose and chin; both were fortunately narrow to begin with so they did not interfere with the effectiveness of my cosmetic changes. When my transformation was complete, I was brought lunch in my room. They called it my dinner, and I was told to try to get some sleep. They wanted me to adjust to Japanese time as quickly as possible since it was 13 hours ahead of us. It was one in the afternoon at that point, and they told me I had to "wake up for the next day" at 6 P.M. I tried hard to get to sleep and was able to get a glorified nap of three hours in before wakeup time. After I was awoken, I was dressed in a navy blue skirt suit, low heels and nude pantyhose. I brushed my hair out and was brought out and fed breakfast at what I was told was 7:30 in the morning, but of course it felt like 6:30 in the evening to me. The breakfast was quite like I had encountered when I was in Japan. There was Natt, rice with nori and grilled fish. It was never my favorite food, but I knew I would have to get used to it for a while. I ate it and washed it down with green tea. I always liked the tea. It was my favorite part of breakfast. After breakfast, I was brought into a room, and a Japanese woman came out and inspected me. She graded me and told me my hair needed work. The woman then introduced herself as Miss Yoshida. She was a thin woman around 40. She had long black hair and a short stature. She told me that she was there to train me how to be a proper Japanese office lady. I gave her my rapt attention as she started me on a five-day training program before I was to be sent abroad. Miss Yoshida explained that we first had to go over business etiquette before I could be trained for my position. She explained first what was expected of my appearance. She said, "Strive to look conservative and neat. You should wear no jewelry. You don't want to look flashy. You want to blend into your surroundings like office furniture." I nodded, and she added, "You want to keep your hair in natural colors, no nail polish either. Your hair should be tied back neatly. You should wear limited makeup and no perfume. You are a flower in the office, but you don't want to look overly femme in the office. It's not proper in the business atmosphere your employer is setting." I said in a voice that was carefully soft and low, "Okay, I can do that." Miss Yoshida gave me a peeved look for interrupting her and continued, "It's fine for you to interrupt me, girl, but don't you dare do so with your employer. The clinic has a reputation of providing top quality employees around the world. I don't care who you were when you were a man or who you will be, do not shame us! Now, when you work you're expected to wear a matching suit jacket and skirt. Your employer looks down on pantsuits so avoid them. When it comes to your blouse, keep it simple too. They insist upon white or cream colored solid blouses with high collars. When it comes to your legs, again keep it plain. You want simple pantyhose; nude is preferred." I nodded as she paused and looked me over. She then added, "I know that some of your type that vacation in a woman's garb have a little jealously over a woman's choice in shoes, but you can't indulge it too much here. You are to wear low heels, not high heels, and nothing with a strap! You're not looking for sexy. This isn't a porno with some big western man taking you over a copier. You're going into a place of business, so you want low heeled, solid shoes. We will be providing you with all these clothes, and we insist upon you wearing to work only what we provide." I nodded again and said, "I will do that." "Good. Now, you've been provided with grey, navy, green, dark purple and brown skirt suits. Those are they only colors you'll wear to work. You have a little more freedom outside of work, but remember to keep it conservative outside the job too. You always represent your employer even when you're not at work. You also don't want to shame your family or yourself." "Family?" "Yes, office ladies live with their parents until marriage. You've been placed with a family in Tokyo. They will pass you off as their daughter to anyone who asks about you who does not know them. You're to treat them with respect and obedience you give to your employer. Do you understand?" "Yes", I replied. "Wonderful. Now, we must discuss the others you may find yourself dealing with. I'm sure in your travels you met working women in Japan." "Well, yes", I replied. She continued, "I'm talking about career women, not OLs." I nodded. I had seen these women. I had not paid them much attention though. Miss Yoshida continued, "These women are trained, educated and career oriented. Do not pattern yourself on them. They are symbolic of a change going on Japan that's proceeding in fits and spats. They're the new guard; you're a symbol of the old one. They're often feared; you're never to intimidate anyone. You are to give all your superiors your respect, but you are to give your loyalty and obedience to your male superiors. Men dominate the business you've been hired by." I nodded as I took in what she said. Miss Yoshida paused and said, "Even your job is changing. There's more of a push then ever for Office Ladies to be free of the uniform appearance of the past, but not at your place of employment. I need you to understand that you're going to be a yamato nadeshiko. That's what these men were told about you." I said, "I understand." "Do you know what this means?" "Yes." "What does it mean?" She asked, clearly not believing that I did understand the full significance. "It means that I have to obey them. I owe them my loyalty and respect. I have to act in the best interest of my male superiors with humility and modesty. Miss Yoshida nodded and said, "You understand your place well." We then proceeded onto training for the position. I was sat at a small desk and given files to file. I was given forms that needed to be stamped and timed as I stamped them. I was given paper clips and documents that had I had to neatly clip. I was most excited when towards the end, she taught me how to make and serve tea. After being served dinner, I walked back to my room ready to drop. I hit the bed and was asleep within what felt like seconds. The next 4 days were simply practicing what I had learned the first day with Miss Yoshida. On the seventh day, I was given my documentation and taken to the airport. I was given my travel bags and told that more clothes were waiting for me at my 'parent's' home. I was happy not to be traveling alone as the clinic sent a Japanese man to guide me when I got to Japan. I boarded that plane knowing that I was going to be living as a woman for six months in a foreign culture looking like one who belonged to it. I kept looking at the name on the Identification card with a smile and thinking to myself, 'I'm Ayumi Suzuki. I'm really Ayumi Suzuki." The flight was not anything out of the ordinary. It was a typical flight, and I exited and got my bags. The man the clinic sent carried the bags for me, and we headed for my temporary home. We got to my 'parent's' apartment and knocked on the door. They couple came to the door and let me in. I looked around the apartment and smiled at its decidedly Japanese middle class quality. The man took my bags to my room while I got acquainted with my temporary parents. They insisted I call them mother and father. I was not one to quibble and figured that it would help cement what I was in my head, so I went along with it. I was given information about how long it would take me to get to work and how to get there. I knew the city had subways, trains and buses. I learned which ones I'd have to take to get to work. After we finished with that, my flight companion departed. I was left alone with my temporary 'parents.' We talked, and I got them to admit why they took me in. The economic problems of Japan had taken some toll on them, although they were better off than most. The money the clinic provided to take me in was just too much for them to pass up. My 'mother' provided me with a lunch before I went to bed. The next morning, I awoke and got ready for work. I showered and dried my hair as I gave it a 100 brush strokes. It was a time consuming ritual, but Miss Yoshida had gotten me used to it. I put on my cream- colored blouse, nude pantyhose, grey skirt suit and one inch heeled, plain black shoes. I applied a little makeup and ate the breakfast that my 'mother' had made for me. I finished and thanked her for the meal she made. She was the epitome of the good wife. She had raised two daughters already, and they had moved to their own homes after marriage. She was respectful of her husband and was as skilled domestically as even woman I had ever seen. I liked to imagine that if I had been born a Japanese woman, I would have grown up to be like her. After breakfast, I picked up the white, Gucci handbag that the clinic had provided for me. I headed out the door and into the working world as a Japanese Office Lady instead of the American executive I had been before. It was not until I got to work that I realized that my 'father' worked at the company as well. I was startled to see him, but not a word was said about my relationship to him. I suppose it was a fact that was unknown or irrelevant to the others. I arrived early and was set to get to work immediately as the workday began. I was interested in how I would be treated. I knew that I was beneath these people and was well skilled in the art of bowing with my hands clasped in front of my lap thanks to Miss Yoshida's training. I learned where my desk was and moved slowly towards the small desk. I realized the desk was in the middle of my coworkers desks. I was essentially positioned to be able to assist each of them as quickly as possible. 9:30 came and the workday began. I got to work doing the mindless tasks I had been trained to do. I paper clipped documents, was order to deliver interoffice documents and filed documents. I rarely said a word to anyone besides addressing a superior with an honorific title. It was equally as rare for anyone speak to me besides a short, polite greeting and farewell. I was amazed by how little was expected of me. I really was a faceless figure in this corporate place acting as little more than a decoration for the office. Instead of being questioned about this and that, I did the simplest tasks in exchange for surprisingly generous pay. I felt a peculiar jealousy towards these girls. I'm sure that there were many career women who would kill for my opportunity back home. I understood their desires, but I longed to be what they shunned being. Even when I was ordered around, everyone was polite about it. I paused to eat the boxed lunch my 'mother' provided. It was well prepared and tasted great. I was deeply impressed by her culinary prowess. After lunch, it was back to my mundane work. However, the company got a visitor after lunch, and I was thrown into action. I rose up and welcomed the guest into the office before I made the tea just as Miss Yoshida had shown me. The men entered the conference room as I waited for the water to be ready. Me and another OL then took two trays and put cups on them. We made up the tea and carried the trays to the conference room door. We smiled as we made our way into the room carrying the trays. We headed in different directions around the table. I took small steps and offered a cup to each man sited at the table. The men took their tea, and we exited the room to let them get down to business with our distracting presence around. I smiled when I thought to being served like that. I was so turned on by their deferential actions, and I was finally getting the chance to do it myself. I was elated for the rest of the workday. After going home and eating dinner with my Japanese family, I decided to research some things I wanted to do the next night. After the work the next day, I decided to go through with my plans. I decided to head down to where the young Japanese I was drawn to convened in Tokyo. Many of the men there are openly androgynous and the women are dressed in eye-catching ways that so differ from how I was dressed. From a distance, Japan seems to have very open views of sexuality, and to some extent, it is true. For instance, I learned that Tokyo elected a transgender woman. There are quite a few openly gay celebrities and even a few transgender ones and of course there's the Bish?nen. There's no official discrimination against homosexuals, but there is some animus present among the average persons. I headed to Harajuku. I looked around there and saw the Lolita's, Ganguro, and Kogal girls all dressed in ways that turned me on for different reasons. I almost wished I could dress like them, but it was not for someone like me. I saw the androgynous men with their elaborate hairstyles and makeup. I was jealous of the freedom their society gave them. I knew my own would never condone such behavior. In the West, men were expected to be men. Even a hint of effeminacy is not tolerated. I felt like I had stepped into heaven for a few moments even though I stood out like a sore thumb because of the failure of my appearance to stand out. Enjoying the sights but feeling like an outsider, I headed back home. On the way back to the apartment, I saw a career woman. We did not say a word to each other. I could see her impressively dressed in a pantsuit and weary from long work-hours. She was the new Japanese woman. I was the old one. We could both tell what the other was. There was nothing for us to say to each other. She gave me a look of mild scorn as if my decision to take on a traditional role was undermining her decision to have a career. I tried to ignore it. I got back to the apartment and settled in with my fake family. I was already relaxed. I had almost six months left with them, and I had already experienced everything I was going to. I knew I was going to fall into the routine of an office lady, and I did. Over the following months, I simply got up, went to work and went shopping. I found out that I was very much the stereotypical office lady. I really liked to shop for women's clothes and accessories in a way that was alien to my desires to shop for men's clothes. I never made any true friends in Japan, which I suppose was for the best. However, I would go out at lunchtime with the other OLs from time to time. We'd all give our opinions on certain clothes and purses and shoes. I felt more like one of them than I had ever felt about myself as an executive. As the end of my six months neared, I was ready to go back. I figured that since I had found myself as a woman, I was ready to start working on myself as man. I called the clinic and started to make arrangements, but they would not process them. They told me that my accounts were frozen because of a lawsuit by one of my former underlings. One of them was suing me, alleging that I committed assault during the tantrum that led me towards my sabbatical. I knew I had to call my lawyer. I struggled to find my natural voice. I had deserted it for nearly 6 months, and my memory of it was hazy. I called him and talked to someone in his office who put me through. He asked about my voice, and I told him I was sick. He demanded to know where I was because we had to discuss the case, and I had to sign some documents. People were trying to find me. I told him that I was on vacation and unable to come back to the States. I asked, "How can we get my accounts unfrozen?" He answered, "Settle, Jim!" I wanted to settle. I knew it might be my only way back home, but I did not want to do it without my father's go ahead. It might compromise the case against the company, I figured. I told my lawyer I'd call him back and called my father. My father picked up, and he told me to come home immediately. I explained that I could not, which resulted in a barrage of screaming and some concerned words. I wanted to ask him to wire me money, but then I'd be giving up where I was. I told him that I'd take care of it and hung up. I went to make fake parents and plead my case. I told them that my accounts were frozen and tried to convince them to give me a loan to finance my transformation back into an executive. They were sympathetic, but unable to help me. They had money, but not enough to finance even a little work by the clinic. I tried to make a deal with the clinic, but they were also unwilling to do it because they did not want to resort to the courts in case I could not pay. I figured if I stopped buying stuff, I could probably pay for the change back in two years. I talked to my temporary parents about this, and they said I could stay provided I started to do work around the house. Knowing the alternative was admitting what I had done to myself to my father, I accepted their terms. Beginning that night, I started to help my 'mother' clean the apartment when I was off. I helped her make my 'father's' lunch and breakfast. I made my own lunches and breakfasts. I have to say, I learned a lot from her. She was meticulous, and I was energetic. That energy let me do the tasks that were bothering her body. I think she liked having me help her out. About a week after I made that deal, I was called in to see the head of the company. I went in and exchanged greetings with him. He told me that my 'father' had told him everything. I feared I was going to be fired, but he was sympathetic. He said that he would help me for a price. I was desperate so I wanted to hear him out. I said, "Thank you, shacho." He explained to me that he was divorced. He was once in a lavender marriage, but eventually they went their separate ways. His mother was influenced by the West and was decidedly anti-gay. He explained that he wanted to bring me around as his girlfriend for a few dates before he'd loan me the money to turn myself back into the man I was. I readily agreed feeling as though I had no real choice in the matter. I was then sent back to work and given the first date and time I'd have to go with him to his mother's home. When that day came, Sota came and picked me up at my apartment at almost the exact minute he said he would. He came in and, seemingly out of force of habit, introduced himself to my temporary parents. My 'father' obviously knew him, but my 'mother' did not. She seemed genuinely honored to have him there. He gave her a small gift before he led me out of the apartment and down to the street. He took me into his limo, and his driver took us to his mother's home. Sota told me not to worry while we were in transit. During the ride, I kidded him about not going through the normal group dating stage before doing a one on one date. When we walked in, Sota's mother greeted us both with a courteous smile. She seemed to like me. I had feared Sota's mother would look down on me as not good enough for her son, but I suppose her aching desire to see him married again made just about any woman acceptable. Sota's mother had made us dinner, and it smelled good. She served Sota and then myself. We ate and talked for a bit before Sota told her that he promised my parents that he'd get me home by a certain time. She acknowledged him, but she said that she wanted to get a picture of the two of us. I looked at Sota oddly, but he whispered in my ear in English, "Tolerate her. Just do it." I smiled and nodded before she came out with her camera. Sota's mother went to take a picture of us. I smiled and felt Sota push his lips to mine. I saw the flash. I figured this was all some kind of game to him, but nothing else but the kiss indicated it was. It felt odd to be within his arms. Sota's arms felt strong. I realized I had kissed a man, but I was not as sickened by it as I thought I would be. I was not attracted to him in the least, but I was not revolted by him either. I began to think as I crossed my skirt covered legs that I was comfortable enough in masculinity to let it go without incident. I began to look for clues that this was all a ruse, but none were forth coming. I started to calm down, but I was still surprised by his acts and so was his mother. I knew that such displays of affection were looked down upon here. As western influenced as she was, his mother clearly did not think it was proper. Sota knew it too and smiled at me. Despite his respect and love for his mother, I think he liked to play with her out of his frustration that he knew she could never accept him for what he was if he was willing to admit it. Sota's mother took a more dignified photograph of the two of us after that. Sota then took me home and saw me up to my apartment. I began to feel a bit of reverence for Sota at that time. At work, Sota and I did our best to keep our fake relationship a secret. I largely did not see him, but when I did I had to speak to him I only addressed as shacho and never Sota. No one suspected a thing. I thought one of the OL's did when she said something about him while we were out to lunch, but she did not elaborate. I just shrugged it off and continued hanging out with those girls. I realized that I was almost living the dream they wanted. They all wanted a man like Sota. They wanted to marry well and leave the job that I embraced. To them, a woman's place was in the home. I'm sure that they would all love to share Sota's home if they did not know of his secret predilections. I almost wanted to lord my relationship with such a successful man over them, but it would not be a good show of humility or good judgment. Two days after our first date, Sota decided to bring me around his mother's home again. Sota treated me kindly again. He bought me the clothes for the date. They were very expensive and made me feel pampered. I have no idea why that excited me, but it did. I met up with Sota dressed in an above the knee dress and chunky heels. Sota took a look at me and complemented my fashion sense. It was a complement I took with pride because Sota was an expert when it came to fashion. We went to his mother's. She let us in, and I saw the picture of Sota and I together and smiling. She was clearly hoping that we would last. I felt a little sad for her that she would never see her son take another wife. She made us dinner, and we talked with her. I complemented her cooking, and she thanked me in a humble manner. We both listened with rapt attention when her son spoke. I don't know exactly what it was with him, but I felt an admiration for him. It was not sexual in anyway. I just caught myself giving him admiring gazes. Sota was an impressive man, and I really wanted him to find someone, but given his position, I knew he likely never would have the chance. I felt sorry for Sota because he deserved happiness as much as anyone I had ever met. About a week after that 'date', Sota brought me around for our last 'date.' I could see Sota acting in front of his mother. He was trying to convey hurt, I guessed to take away the shock of his breaking up with me so abruptly. I played along with him and acted unhappy as we sat together. I had to fight against a smile about the strangeness of what I was doing. I kept thinking to myself that underneath it all I was a straight white man pretending to be a young, heterosexual Japanese woman who was unhappy to be breaking up with her middle-aged boyfriend. After the third date, Sota told his mother that we broke up. He gave me a loan contract that I signed and made clear my obligation to repay him within a week of my accounts being unfrozen. After setting up my stay at the clinic, I said goodbye to my coworkers under the guise that I was getting married. It was tough to leave my home with the Suzukis. I enjoyed my 'mother's' company very much. I thanked my 'father' for his role in helping finance my return. I thanked my 'mother' for what she had done for me as well. I was sad to leave them behind as I left for the airport. I knew I would never see them again, and it gnawed at me a little. The clinic picked me up from the airport after my plane touched down back at home. They took me in for a change that was complete within a few hours. I kept talking to the staff in my male voice as I kept trying to impress upon myself to use it. It did not sound right, but as I saw myself becoming more masculine as I looked in the mirror, it seemed less objectionable. After going back to my house for a nights sleep, I went to see my father the next morning. He was unsympathetic about my reasons for the delay. However, we were able to work something out with the company lawyers and my own that enable us to unfreeze my accounts father quickly. I really thought my father would be more upset about my being incommunicado for such a long period of time, but he was surprisingly forgiving. Eventually, I asked why he was so relaxed about it. I was startled by his answer. Sota called him and told him that I had an oral agreement with his company. My father took the deal and was now in business with him. My father said, "You made some impression on that man. You really impressed me. I thought you were going to take that year and blow it, but you put yourself to work for the company like a man." I tried to keep a satisfied smile on my face as I listened to my father's statements that were adverse to reality. My father then said, "Sota said he'll only do business with you. So expect to be doing more work in Japan." I smiled and showed my father out of my office door. I sat down and thought about trying to convince my father to give me the rest of the promised time off, but I decided to let the man keep his delusions about me. I really had my fun during the first six months anyway. I was a little concerned about doing business with someone who had only ever seen me as a Japanese woman in a skirt, but Sota had me. He obviously wanted to keep in contact, and I had no real problems with the man. He had helped me, and I knew I owed him more than the money I repaid him. His company gave me the chance of a lifetime, and he gave me my life back. I sat down at the desk in my office. It was so much larger than my Office Lady desk in Japan. It was all going back to normal. I was an executive in the family business, not a Japanese woman working as an interchangeable part as a cog in the Japanese corporate system. I thought back to all I had experienced. It was another life. I heard a knock on the door. I pictured myself as the young Japanese girl walking in with a tray of tea, but I saw my own secretary enter instead. She handed me a small, light package. I thanked her and took it from her hand. After she left, I checked the package and saw that it was from Sota. I paused for a few minutes before I decided to see what he sent me. I opened the package and pulled out its contents. It was a single picture that his mother had taken of us. It was the first picture she had taken of us. I didn't know if I should grimace or smile at the gay embrace I was staring at. I was not attracted to Sota or any man, but I did not feel ashamed about the picture. I knew that no one would recognize me as the girl in the picture. She was already feeling alien to me, as if those months were only a blissful dream of femininity. Of course, given my new business relationship with Sota, I knew that there would be reminders of those days in my future. I put the photo on my desk and saw something else in the box. I read the short note with a smile on my face, "Looking forward to seeing you again, my office flower."