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I sat fairly smugly in the meeting room waiting for John, my boss, to arrive with the figures. Thing was, I'd not only done well this month, my first month, but I'd outsold him by pinching one of his prospects following a quick chat with his PA. He'd know this by now, of course, but this monthly presentation to the CEO was going to get my name in lights. I wondered how John would pitch it. A pat on my back surprised me. "Well done, Tony!" John smiled back at me as he walked to the front of the room and the rest of the board seated themselves. His presentation on the figures was quick, accurate, and unembellished. Not only that, I was impressed that he gave credit to every salesperson in the team, though this lack of ego could be a weakness in Sales. I'd noticed many things about him that appeared weak. The goatee so obviously covering a weak chin. Without it he'd be somewhat pretty perhaps. He was well built, but no more than average height, not even my ten inches over five foot, which I'd often wished was an inch or two more. The gym workouts must again be compensating for some inferiority. I figured I would work some of my magic on John, put him in his place. Perhaps, I wondered, he might be mildly homosexual. Well, I was good looking and as attractive to the boys as the girls in this metrosexual world. Perhaps I could work on him and have him eating out of my hand, before destroying him. His directorship would be mine within the year. "And especially well done to Tony, who moves straight into third place on our leaderboard, but with a lead channel that should see him in first place next month. Very quick work for a newcomer!" The board turned to me and applauded. I smiled my thanks. They all would know my face. I couldn't believe that John would open up the competition like that! Strange though, because it did belie a couple of stories I'd heard about him. There was a legend that his first boss, a real driven woman, had shocked the office by retiring pregnant, and had never returned. Great work there by John. Apparently she had six children now, though not married. Then there was his PA. A stunner! Huge boobs! But so dippy! I finessed her CV from personnel to try to get a little background for my approach to her. I reckon I picked up the wrong one. She was qualified for the bar and had a politics degree from Cambridge. She'd applied for a sales position, and a six-month review put her in direct competition with John for the recently vacated Director position. I asked a few questions. Apparently her and John had gone away for a seminar for a few weeks. She'd come back changed, all concerned with her looks and pleasing John. He had some magic this guy! She failed the director's interview and then accepted a position as John's eye-candy PA, just to be close to him. My strategy would be like his, work on the guy as a friend, then test his sexuality. Get him close to me, then screw him up so bad he wouldn't know which was was up! So I accepted a request for team drinks that night, and met John at the bar. We were a few drinks in within minutes, and chatting was so easy. The guy was odd, very interested. I decided I would play it interested but alpha, draw him out but let him know exactly who was in charge. But I also had to know what he was really thinking. Was he gay, a little camp, or pure straight? What was going to work? So we got to talking about women, and I noticed there was a reticence there, but our takes were the same. He was an in-charge kinda guy. I pushed a little bit, let him know that women were different, inferior in sales as they didn't have the aggression and the drive. He asked if I thought that a woman with a man's aggression and drive could be a better salesperson, then asked what a man without the aggression and drive would be. It was a strange conversation, but I could see that he was warming to my take on life, and my lead. "You do need to be careful though, Tony." He whispered in my ear towards the end of the evening. "What about?" "Always stepping on people. Sometimes you need to take care." "Caring is for girls!" I scoffed. "Sales is a man's world, and it's a cutthroat world. You know that!" "So what are women in your world?" He asked, intrigued. "In sales? Eye candy, like your PA." "Do you intend to have my job, carrying on the way you are?" I looked round at John. "May the best man have the best position." I raised my glass. He raised his to mine. "You have balls, Tony. Jenny thought her brains would get her my position. Did you fuck her?" "No!" I responded in surprise at the directness of the question. "Perhaps you should. She may be moving on soon." With that he left me at the bar. My figures went up the following month. Aggression paid dividends and I hit the number one spot. This time I took two clients from under John's nose. I also had sex with his PA just like he said I should. It was so good that it was soon very regular, even in the office, so I moved in with her and gave up my place in the city. That meant savings on money, but her place was a bit smaller than mine. I still couldn't understand how she had given up a sales career for a PA job, nor where her law training had gone, but she just smiled when I asked and said she was happy. But she was a bit scatty. See, our clothes started getting mixed up everywhere, and she managed to wash a load of my whites with a red vest of hers. I only had blotchy pink boxers and gym socks. The shirts I threw out. She did like me in pink boxers though, and bought me a couple of silk pairs as a present. They felt wonderful, and noone was going to see the pink under my trousers anyway. I was reading through a presentation that John had sent me on a new client when I noticed something odd. The slide background was pink and something kept catching the corner of my eye. I opened the presentation in the editor and looked through the slides then found one that kept flashing up really briefly before moving on. There didn't seem to be anything on it but it left me with an odd impression. I deleted the slide then continued the presentation. I resolved to check through anything that John sent me from then on, because that was wierd. Wierder, that evening, was that Jenny asked me if I'd go on a diet with her. She had a good argument, it was all about the support, and as we were living together we pretty much ate the same stuff, but I still didn't think I'd agree to do it, but I did. Why? I wasn't exactly fat, I looked after myself, and a diet was a bit much, but I agreed. Perhaps it was her passion for it at the time, or perhaps she was really getting under my skin and I did want to help her out. That didn't seem like me either. Was I falling for her? Jenny was sending me jokes in work, and these included videos and slideshows. I caught the oddness again in a slideshow and pulled it apart. There was a seemingly empty slide again. I asked an IT guy over to help me out and he pulled the slide apart. "There's a load of text in there," he told me a few minutes later, "but it's all piled up and up. One layer says something about 'going down', another says something about 'opening up', 'letting in', 'letting go'. There's so much there and I can't get it to make sense." I stopped opening files from Jenny unless they were screened first. I didn't know what was going on, but someone was trying to send me some kind of messages. Jenny's diet included a load of shakes that she would make up for us. They were satisfying, but not for very long. I didn't feel the urge to eat much though, even though Jenny and I were going to the gym together and more often than I had been going alone. We'd sit on the bikes and read papers and magazines, or go to classes. I eased off the weights. I was a bit too tired to use them anyway. After one class I got to thinking. Alright, I was never the biggest guy in there, but I worked out hard, and I was always proud of keeping one rep ahead of the Joneses. Why had I just done a class using the same weights as the women? I'd chosen to take the green weights instead of the red ones, yet all the guys were using one, two or even three reds! It was too easy with the greens! I wasn't even sweating! There was something about everything I was doing with Jenny. I was losing my manliness. As we walked back towards the changing areas I excused myself and went to the weights room. Jenny wasn't happy. "Aren't you coming home, Tony?" "You go ahead, honey. I need to work out a bit more." "But Tony, you want to come home." "You're right, I do, but I also want to work out a bit more." I hadn't realised how much I did want to go back with Jenny, but sometimes these things need to be acted against willfully. "You want to go on the bike then. You know that weights are really heavy. The bike is great for rounding off the day. I'll join you." That sounded like a good idea, so I smiled at Jenny and walked her to the bikes. We laughed and chatted and it turned out to be a really good idea after all. The next day in work John called me into his office. I took one of his speciality teas and he sat me down at his computer to talk me through the latest figures. It was another month, and my figures were slipping. I thought back and realised that I hadn't been anywhere near as pushy this last month. I'd certainly not taken any of the other salespeople's clients, even though I had the inside track through Jenny. I finished the figures presentation, finished the tea, and looked up at John. "You need a break, Tony." He declared. "Listen, I'm going away to visit a few prospects over the next few weeks. You should come with me. I'll okay it and you take a few days off while we're out there." It sounded like an excellent idea. A break would be good. I smiled to myself. Probably almost as relaxing as this tea, I thought. "Where is 'out there'?" "South East Asia. I'll sort out the travel desk and let you know the details as soon as they're sorted." The next few weeks flew by. Jenny's carb-free diet had really shrunk me down to strings so my clothes were hanging off me. We went out a few times and bought new stuff, better fitting, much more shapely. She also let me know that she was moving on from the job and had been studying at beauty school. She brought home her electrolysis kit and we had fun with that, but the best times we had were when she would practise making me up. She was right that if she could make me look like a girl, then she could probably make any girl look better. A couple of weeks before my break she stopped the diet. I was so happy I ate like a horse! The kitchen was stocked with so many delicious things that I hadn't touched for months! Cakes, chocolate, ice cream, crisps and chips. Jenny laughed when I worried about vegetables and just said that the vitamin pills and shots that she was giving me were more than enough. I couldn't seem to stop eating all of a sudden, and the gym faded from memory. I was probably putting on a pound a day! At the end of two weeks I was filling out my shapely new clothes even though little of the weight seemed to settle on my stomach. It was as though my fat depositing areas had moved, mostly downwards. My hips took on a pleasant curve that looked good in the mirror. I wasn't a stringbean anymore. And then it was time to take a holiday. A working one, of course, with my boss. We flew into Bangkok, and went to a beautiful hotel next to the airport. Adjoining double rooms meant that we could share time together to go over our workload. For some reason, from the moment we got to the hotel John insisted that I not eat anything, and rather than take my usual vitamin drinks and pills he had some shots for me, which I duly bent over and took in my butt, apparently the best place for them. John left me to my own devices for a while, then came back into my room after he'd had his dinner and been down to the gym. It was getting a little late but I put my novel down and sat up in bed while he poured himself a brandy from the minibar. "That's a nice nightdress, Tony. Silk, is it?" "Satin." I replied. "Tony, you really need to know something. Pay attention, as this is important. Go look in the full length mirror by the door. How do you think you look?" "Pretty good, John. A little thick around the middle if I'm being honest, but otherwise pretty good." "We can sort that out tomorrow. Now, I want you to think yourself back a few months, to Tony the arrogant, self-centred salesman. Can you do that for me? Then look in the mirror again. While you're at it, why don't you use your hands to feel around on your chest?" I did, and looked. Looking back at me from the mirror was a plain young woman. Short hair, but smooth skinned. Skinny but slightly curvy, with nice hips and legs but tiny, childlike buds for boobs. I could feel them in my hands, just lumps of slightly squidgy fat under tightly binding skin, pushing out a large pair of nipples. I knew it was me in the mirror, and yet it wasn't me. Somehow I felt comfortable with this new form, yet I began to get angry, and confused, at the wrongness of it. Someone, somehow had changed me into this! I turned to look at John. "Yes," he nodded, "I did this to you. I am in the process of removing your masculinity. And though I've made you aware of it, you're not truly yourself even now." "How?" I stammered. "Mostly drugs. The clever part was a mix I discovered of tramaxo-4- codaleine, which hyperactivates the thalamus and amygdala, and certain hypnotics, which depress conscious function arising from the same regions. Basically your brain was crying out for stimulation which your consciousness was too slow in processing. Inputs therefore bypassed conscious processing instead appearing to you, belatedly, to be your own ideas. The addition of subliminals meant that you had no idea where these ideas were coming from, so assumed they were your own and therefore good. I drugged you to the stage where even my voice was more active in your brain than your own consciousness. A correlate of the hyperactivity is the ability to lay down new memories, and effectively your brain is begging to learn. So you've been living with Jenny and copying everything she does, and it becomes natural so easily when your brain is in learning mode. You're used to your body, your reflection. You walk with a sway, talk with a lilt, everything you've observed and copied becoming natural. "At the same time, of course, you've been taking other, simpler drugs. Cyproterone Acetate, aromatase precursors, estrogens. Along with a vicious diet you've burnt off your own muscle and recently replaced it with fat. Jenny, of course, ate in the office, but you didn't notice that. She also permanently depilated your body and face apart from your brows, which are permanently thinner, taught you to become a natural with makeup, hair and nails, and injected tiny doses of botox into your major muscle groups while you slept to induce further muscle degradation. Don't blame her for all that though. She did it all because I told her to. You see, I had her on the mind altering drugs too. She learned to act like a bimbo until it became completely natural to her. She probably wants to become a beautician now, although I did tell her to do that too. She's been off the drugs for years, but you know how some things you learn and you never forget, like playing a piano or riding a bike? You learn them and they become unconscious. So unconscious, in fact, that trying to perform them consciously is actually worse - your own mind gets in the way? Well, Jenny, as my assistant, learned that whenever I said her name, whatever followed she had to do. I always preceded my requests and demands with her name. It's almost like she's driving a car. She can chat with you, listen to music, anything, but underneath she's following my orders. She can be conscious of it, but like driving she's got to get from A to B before she can stop. "You're becoming like that, with both Jenny and me, though Jenny will be out of the picture soon. You might not believe me, so I'm going to give you one last chance. Tony, stand still and watch while I get undressed." I stood there and watched John slide off his shoes, socks and then trousers. For a moment I thought something was off with the jockey shorts, but his shirt fell back over them. Next he unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a bandaged chest. He unrolled the bandage from around himself revealing muscular, toned arms as he did so. Finally it fell away and his chest flopped. Just slightly, but it flopped. John had breasts! He reached down and slid off his shorts, well, no, he kind of wiggled out of them. His hips were just a bit too wide for a waist which he kept in good shape. But that wasn't the biggest giveaway. John didn't have a penis. Nothing but a bush, a hairy covering. Over what? He stood there, fists on hips, and I realised it wasn't a he, it was a she. She was well-built, a female bodybuilder, big. "This is how I know about many of the drugs. Especially the hormones. I never really wanted to be a man, but male hormones really help create the image, and that image has probably helped me get where I am today. Competitive, aggressive, all that masculine stuff. Anyway, your final chance, Tony. If you can get it up, and get it into me, I'll stop what I'm doing, and admit you're the better man." She smiled. Strangely it was quite a pretty smile. "No tricks, I won't order you not to, but I won't order you to either. This is all you. Do you think you can have me?" There wasn't much there to turn me on. She was a bulky, muscular, hirsute woman with short hair in a man's style and no make-up. Her breasts were small and flattened probably by years of binding. So I tried to think of something else, fantasise, but it seemed difficult. I remembered Jenny and the times we'd had together, but they seemed somehow faded into the past, and also undermined by her betrayal of me. Finally I tried playing with myself, but there was little feeling, little pleasure in it. John waited maybe a minute. I assumed that wasn't her name, but I didn't know what to call her now. Finally she shrugged. "I'm going to have to call this off, I can't wait all night! But, I know, I'll offer you another challenge, to see if you are still a man. Tony, you wait there, I'll just pop into the other room." She walked out, and I stood there, frustrated, yet calm, peaceful. I could feel that I should be fighting my own apathy, but ironically was too apathetic to do so. So I just stood there, the last vestiges of my masculinity somehow at stake. She returned in her suit, no tie, looking every inch the after-work man. Like this I couldn't understand how she was a woman, underneath. It didn't make sense. Something else didn't make sense. I don't know if it was John's hand motions or something but I found myself looking towards the crotch of his trousers, and it was full. He reached down and undid his fly, and I followed every motion. I didn't feel anything down below, but I noticed my nipples going hard, and I felt a hunger for something. As John pulled out a plastic dildo from his pants, looking very realistic, I felt myself begin to salivate, and walked towards him slowly, taking in the sight of this newly revealed wonder. As I felt my hunger grow I knew what I had to have, and knelt down on the carpet before John, reaching out to his cock with my hands. It was plastic, but that didn't matter to me as I stroked it. I wanted it in my mouth. I looked up to John, for approval, and saw his smile and nod. I launched myself onto it, sucking and licking to pleasure John until he creamed in my mouth or begged me to stop. I felt his fingers on the back of my neck, a slight scratch, and then blackness. Jenny moved out a few weeks ago. It felt like longer. I could barely remember her being here but I was holding a bra of hers that had somehow found its way behind the bed. It was the first time I'd cleaned behind the bed, mostly because it was really hard to shift. There had been a guy in it with me last night, but he'd gone before I woke, so I couldn't ask him to move it for me. I was a bit irritated he'd gone, actually. I loved waking up with a warm body wrapped around me, especially a warm body with strong arms. I don't know why I liked it, apart from it made me feel good. I'm sure I used to be independent minded, but I loved having a man around, and felt quite lost without one. It was the first time I could remember moving furniture to clean behind and under stuff. I liked things clean, tidy, and in order. Jenny's bra would have to go straight back to her. I wondered if I could meet her for coffee and a chat. I could probably slip it to her at a cafe. I looked at the label, 34C. I wish I could have breasts like Jenny's. They were large enough to enjoy, and yet she could still wear whatever she liked, and look good in it. My 36Gs were a pain to dress and a pain to control. Oh, they were wonderful for attracting attention, but then I knew I wasn't the most pretty of women, so that was good. I could be really pretty in make-up, so I tended to spend time on that every day, but the natural girls were just one step better looking. I looked across to the mirror. The button nose was cute, but seemed just slightly too small, and I thought of it as piggy. My forehead was a little high, though strangely short hair was rapidly growing out from my hairline to cover it. Perhaps when I had a fringe it would look smaller. My chin was also small, and rounded, cute underneath my large mouth and lips. Between the nose and the chin, however, my mouth really did seem too big, though, in another way, and using a lick of lipstick, it did make my lips seem madly kissable. The small chin also made my jaw appear too wide. Luckily again, prominent cheekbones diverted the attention from my wide face, making it appear longer. I hoped my fringe would grow, because my face did look too long. But I was critical. My face seemed to me to be a mish-mash of parts that were too big and parts that were too small. I wanted longer hair to help with framing it, so I was growing it. Eventually my dark, wavy hair would make the whole appear smaller, and I would be happier with myself. Grow hair, come on, grow! Thank goodness my boobs were big! I seemed to have huge shoulders. I was still working on my shape, trying to bring my waist down to size with the help of a girdle, whilst not being silly about my diet. I knew that my boobs were fake, but at the same time I couldn't remember having them done. I seemed to remember always having them. I wondered sometimes about my lack of memory preceding living with Jenny, but occasionally after I chatted with her, or with my boss, John, another piece or two of the jigsaw would seem to have slotted into place and I could remember events from my past. Faded, cloudy memories, but memories nonetheless. I could somehow remember my first period, and the operation that meant I didn't have periods anymore, and my first kiss, and losing my virginity. I could remember the skirt I wore to school, and feeling up my first boy behind the bike sheds. I could remember being a successful salesman. But each time I remembered something like that it didn't seem important. I would grasp at the memory but it would fade to grey and some bright, colourful memory of me typing at my desk, or taking the minutes of a meeting, or taking dictation in an office would take its place. Memories of being an athletic boy were slowly being written over with memories of attracting athletic boys. I knew all the memories were down there, lurking, but it seemed I was fighting too strongly to become a beautiful, feminine, attractive woman for any old memory to be able to get through. So I looked at myself in a mirror and saw things that I wanted to improve, and thought of ways that clothing and makeup and hairstyling would help. At work I wanted to be the best secretary, so that I could become a personal assistant. A PA should do anything required to enable their boss to concentrate on his primary goals. That meant dealing with all the minutiae, but also reacting immediately to the boss's orders to remove any distractions. A relaxed boss meant a productive boss, and a productive boss meant a good PA. I finished the hoovering in the bedroom. The guy's name had been Steve. I'd met him twice, and this time invited him home. My girlfriends from work constantly told me that I was making it too easy for the guys, inviting them back to my place after one or two meetings, not even formal dates. Maybe I was, but I really wanted a man, and when I found one I liked I found it pretty difficult to stop myself showing how much I liked him. Steve had big arms, and when he accompanied me home in a taxi I was imagining them around me. I needed to have them so I invited him in, and though I offered him coffee I could soon think of little else but having him inside me. I smiled at the memory. It was a shame he'd gone early, but maybe I could give him a couple of days to cool off before seeing if he would be in that pub again. Though judging by my recent history, there'd be someone else that would be interested in me. Especially in my boobs. Following clearing up in the flat there didn't seem to be anything else to do with the day. I stayed in my nightdress, dressing gown and slippers and after doing my makeup and hair and plucking the odd stray eyebrow hair I settled down in front of the television. With only Sunday church shows on the channels I had, I got up and chose a DVD from my bookshelf. Pretty Woman was a gift from John, and one of my favourites, and within ten minutes I found myself once again completely absorbed in the movie. I lost track of time as I became the star, fighting her roots to become cultured, beautiful and feminine while at the same time remaining a hooker in service to her employer. I felt myself going down as part of the service, yet being kissed as part of a greater whole called love. As the credits ran I felt myself come out of my reverie, and realised both how hungry I was, and how poorly dressed. I was feeling the urge to put one of the more racy movies that John had given me into the player, but first knew that I had to get dressed and maybe grab a salad bowl from the sandwich bar down the road. After lunch, John rang. I didn't find it odd to have my boss call on my day off, and agreed to go meet him in the office. As I sat in my little blue Corsa I seemed to remember driving a much larger car, and wondered where it had gone. It was a quick drive to the office though on a Sunday, as the city was empty, and I had time to fix my lips and eyes before getting out of the car, and time to slip out of my flats into heels. I didn't like flats, and rarely wore them, except for driving. "Good Afternoon, Toni!" John greeted me as I stepped out of the elevator. "Would you follow me to my office?" I did, and found the entire floor empty apart from ourselves. As we walked into John's office he held the door open for me and closed it behind us. I went to stand behind his guest chair and waited for his instructions. "Toni, slip off your heels and lean on your elbows on my desk." It was a simple thing to do and felt right. I felt my skirt being lifted behind me and looked back at John queryingly. He smiled back at me. "I'm so glad you're not wearing panties today." I puzzled over that one. I could remember putting them on this morning, and yet after John's phone call it had seemed like a good idea to take them off before coming into the office. Why? He came round to the front of the desk, and slowly pulled me forward by my wrists until I was right over it, my thighs touching the front edge. Then he opened a drawer and took out some silky rope which he attached firmly to my wrists and the other end to somewhere under the desk so that I couldn't pull back or up at all. I was lying on my breasts like pillows. He walked back around me with more of the rope, and I felt him attach it to my ankles and pull them apart, tying them to the desk legs, I guessed. I couldn't move out of the position I was in. My openness to him was quite a turn on for me. I could wiggle my hips, that was about it. He walked behind me and I heard him undo his zip. I bit my lip as I waited for the next bit. Sometimes it pinched a bit as I could be quite dry. John slid in as though greased, and I gasped as he pushed clean in first time. Suddenly I was pressed apart between my legs and filled up almost into my belly. As he drew himself slowly out the feeling was exquisite. I tried to hold him in, whilst feeling him move, and feeling myself empty slightly, an emptiness that I wanted to have filled again, immediately. I pushed back slightly, and upwards, and he obliged me by slowly filling me again. Gradually he got into a rhythm, and I could feel my pleasure growing as his strokes came just quickly enough to prevent it fading away. "Toni," he whispered, leaning over my back, "I know I've retrained you a lot, but I want you to take this opportunity to think of yourself as the man that you were, some months ago, before you met me. Toni, think of yourself as Tony, the arrogant, uncaring, alpha male salesman. I know it will be hard, because the memories are buried deep, but you can do it. Maybe you won't be able to do it straight away, now, so, Toni, every time you have sex I want you to remember who you were. Toni, all the time that you have a cock inside you, anywhere inside you, I want you to remember yourself as Tony the salesman, and not Toni the secretary. But I don't want it ever to interfere with what you're doing. No, Toni, you will do everything you know to make your partner cum, and then, slowly, you can go back to being Toni the secretary. "Of course, one day I will let you get on with your life. I'll let you go and I won't influence you anymore. Eventually you'll become yourself again, whoever that may be, though you'll always be stuck with this body I gave you. The new you. Soft, weak, and built to please a cock, never to have one. Tony, I want you to remember this, to remember now, what's happening to you. I want you to imprint in your mind the day you, the man who used everyone for his own gain, was fucked by a woman. Not only fucked, but wanting it, wanting to be rammed full of cock until you come!" I realised what was happening to me then. Realised that there was a cock being thrust inside me. Inside me! I knew that it wasn't a real one, that there was a woman behind me, a woman who had tied me down and was now fucking me. But she was right, as much as I hated it, I wanted it. It felt natural, and it felt good. No matter that I didn't want it to, it did feel good, and no matter that I wanted to, I couldn't stop. I was angry, but my anger only elevated my passion. I wanted to scream out, so I did, but it wasn't a scream of frustration, it was a scream of pleasure. As the orgasm enfolded me I felt my passions subside, my anger fade, and a sense of bliss pass over me. Humiliated? Yes, slightly. Embarrassed? Maybe, but it was just me and my boss in the office. No one else would know. John untied me and I smiled at him, stood myself up and brushed myself down. Nothing would be said. There is an understanding between boss and PA that sometimes a boss needs to relieve his frustrations, his passions, in order to be able to get back into focus. I was happy to be able to provide that relief. Maybe a year had passed. I pushed my way up from below the blankets with a mouth tasting of the fresh, bitter cum that I'd just swallowed down. I laid my head down on Shaun's chest and stroked my fingers through his coarse hairs. Something felt different. I could clearly remember waking up and slipping down to give my boyfriend a morning blow job, but I could also clearly remember the entire act. I hadn't enjoyed it, but I'd enjoyed his response, and that was enough to make me want to do it. I enjoyed making him happy, and considered giving him a blow job in the morning a more than fair price to see him smile. I was a man, in a woman's body, giving a blow job, and this time I did it somewhat because I wanted to, whether I liked it or not. Like the pleasure I received from sex, I wanted it, whether I liked it or not. I was thinking about it clearly, still a man in a woman's body, still Tony the salesman, in Toni the secretary's body, but Tony with a difference. Suddenly lying with my head on Shaun's chest seemed a bit, well, gay. I wasn't into men, but I was used to being with them. I could feel within me both the need and the desire for one, and Shaun was a good one. What was different, I felt, was that I was okay with doing things to make other people happy. I knew that it was part of me now. The old Tony was gone, mostly, in the sense that I could look back and see how selfish, self-centred and egotistical I had been. "Shaun?" I said, turning to look up at him. "Yes, honey?" "I'm thinking of going on a sales course. You wouldn't mind, would you?"