The Creation Of Cheryl free porn video

The Creation of Cheryl By Jessica Martin Author's note: The concept of a man buying makeup and women's clothing and 'passing' with no preparation or experience is similar to blindly investing in the stock market and making a killing - it's not going to happen. I considered adding sex to the story, but decided at the end that it was unnecessary. The concept of "forced compliance" won't happen and the actual conversion is (at least for a very long while) a fantasy, too. This story is more about the journey than the destination - sometimes that's more important anyway. Jason sat at his desk trying to concentrate on the report that he was typing, but, like all of the other people in the company he worked for, he was concerned about the corporate buyout that in the works. The purchasing company had stated repeatedly that there would be no sweeping changes in personnel for a while; although there may be some streamlining in the future. Everyone was concerned that they would be streamlined out of a job. Jason was one of the few men on the floor and the only male secretary. He wasn't a neat-freak, but he did prefer organization to randomness. When he made his third trip to the locker for office supplies, he shook his head in disgust. Then he spent twenty minutes putting all pens together on the same shelf, all sticky notes together, and the same with small paperclips and large paperclips. Later that afternoon his supervisor, Mrs. Rogers, put him in charge of ordering supplies and maintaining the locker. She had gotten used to him handing her a folder every morning when she arrived that contained a list of her appointments and a brief summary of relevant facts for each meeting that she might find useful. As a consequence the officers considered her to be highly efficient and a key asset. Their praise for her was passed down to him. After the take-over a new Employee Handbook was sent to each person in the company. It detailed a new health insurance program that was better than the one that they had previously, a dental insurance option, notification that each employee would open a free, interest bearing checking account in the parent company's bank into which their paychecks would be automatically deposited, and a new dress code. He tapped on Mrs. Roger's door. "Have you read the new dress code?" he asked. "It states here that "all hourly office workers shall wear skirts suitable for the office environment and shall not be shorter than four inches above the knee". Then it goes on to say "there shall be no open toed shoes or sandals worn. Employees shall not wear more than one earring in each ear and rings shall be limited to two; including a wedding ring." "Surely they won't apply that to the male workers", she replied. She turned to her copy of the book and read the Dress Code section. It made no allowances for men, nor did it state what their compliance would be. "Tell you what - I'll send a request for clarification to Human Resources and see what they say." "I just don't want to have to look for another job; not in this economy," he said. "And I don't want to have to try to replace you," she smiled in return. Jason frowned at the page in the book and went back to his desk. He picked up his cup and headed toward the coffee maker where he found Sarah and Monica pouring their own. They were both a couple of years older than him and Monica was married to an engineer. "Hey," he said, "have you seen the new dress code?" Monica smiled, "What are you worried about? Your ears aren't pierced and you don't wear sandals." "Very funny," he replied dryly. "That's not the part that concerns me." Sarah shook her head, "They can't seriously expect you to show up in a skirt. It can't be legal for them to require that. I wouldn't worry." Maryanne came up, "Hey guys. What's up?" "Jason's read the new dress code and says that he doesn't have a single thing to wear," quipped Monica. "I get that feeling every time I look in my closet," Maryanne answered. "Jason, how is it that you don't have a single suitable skirt in your wardrobe?" "Oh, great, it's comedy hour at the coffee maker. Don't give up your day jobs. Did you read the part about no exceptions, immediate termination, and no recourse?" Maryanne smiled, "Don't worry, Jason, we don't want to see you in a skirt either. Your legs are probably better than ours." "Funny," he said as he turned back toward his desk. "I'm facing termination and you guys treat it as Saturday Night Live." For the rest of the day Jason was so distressed that he kept catching simple mistakes on the reports that he was compiling. It was mid-afternoon when Sarah stopped by his desk with some files. "Jason, we didn't mean to tease you that much. It's just...I can't imagine that they can make and enforce a requirement like that." "Thanks," he replied, "Mrs.. Rogers is inquiring about it to Human Resources. It just...I don't know." "Well, whatever you decide - we'll help in any way that we can", she said. He sighed, "Thanks." The next morning a courier dropped off an envelope addressed to Mrs. Rogers. The return address was marked "Human Resources". He took it into her office and laid it on her desk. When she returned from her meeting, she called him into her office. She held up the letter for him. After reading it he said, "This is just a form letter restating the Dress Code in the handbook. It says nothing that I didn't already know." She considered for a moment and said, "I want you to start a file on this; cover sheet, all correspondence, everything. Ok?" He nodded in response. She continued, "Jason, whatever you decide, I'll back you all the way." "Thanks," he said and returned to his desk. He took the letter with him when he went for coffee. On the way back he stopped at Maryanne's desk and showed it to her. She shook her head when she had read it. "I don't believe it. Surely they don't think that they can get away with it." "I don't know...major corporations can get away with a lot if they have the right connections. Even if I fought it, they could probably can me on some other technicality," he said. "Yeah, Monica did some digging around and it seems that all of the company pictures show women in the lesser roles...other than things like loading docks and places where they don't meet the public or work in offices." He shook his head and went back to his desk. Later, Sarah stopped by and said, "Jason, whatever you decide, we're going to back you." She shrugged. "If you decide to move on, we'll miss you. If you decide to....well, comply with the Dress Code, we'll help you as much as you need." "What do you mean?" he asked. "Well," she started, "first of all, what do you know about office wear? Then there's the fact that if you go that route, then you're going to need some guidance on fashion, makeup, hair styles, everything. What do you know about nail polish or lipstick for instance?" "Hey, I'm not going for a total look here." "Really? You're just going to put on a skirt and...what? Use the men's room? I don't think that would go over well." "So you're saying that it's the entire package or nothing?" She raised her eyebrows, "Yeah. I don't think that you could get away with just part of the trip. Think of it this way - actors wear makeup all the time; whether they are in a movie or on stage. Just pretend that you are an actor playing the part of a female secretary and go from there. It doesn't have to change who you are. Wasn't there a movie where an actor couldn't get a part so he pretended to be a woman just so that he could work? That's all you'd be doing." He sighed. Yeah...playing a part. He nodded. "If that's what you want to do, you're going to need to buy these things." She laid a small list on his desk. "You can get these without any guidance from us. Then we can show you how to use things like mascara and eyeliner, teach you how to choose a shade of lipstick and nail polish. One thing that you should almost surely start with is a purse. It's your identity and it holds your life." "I need a purse, too?" he asked. "You'll need someplace to carry your billfold, ID card, keys, lipstick, brush, comb, tampons...wait, never mind. But you get the idea. Skirts don't have pockets and even if they did, you'd look really odd carrying all that stuff in them. Most women carry a shoulder bag, like I do. You're less likely to have it snatched and you don't have to lay it down when you are shopping and need both hands. Just remember: keep it simple and functional. Don't worry about fashion at first." "Okay," he sighed. "This is a big hassle." He looked down the list. "Wait a second. You want me to go into a store and buy panties and pantyhose?" "You're going to wear them, why not buy them? I'm not going to do all of your shopping for you. Listen, why don't the four of us get together for lunch tomorrow and we'll talk about it?" she shrugged. "There's lots more to consider." "Okay," he nodded. As he finished his day he decided to stop at a store and pick up at least some of these items. Consulting the list he looked for specific brand names for the mascara, eyeliner, and clear nail polish. He felt as though everyone was watching him as he looked over the purses. He found one that was black canvas, not too large, and had a shoulder strap. He examined it closely and thought that it resembled an overnight shaving kit. He tossed it into the shopping cart, then headed to the Women's Intimates section. There was a salesgirl restocking some unpurchased items and took no notice of him. Using the charts on the back of the bags, he made his best guess on panties and put two packs into the cart. He felt totally humiliated. He felt dwarfed while looking at the pantyhose. There were different brands, a multitude of colors, and several styles. He found what Sarah had written - "suntan, reinforced toe, Queen size". She also said that he would need at least six packs. He figured one pair each day and a spare. On the way to the checkout he passed the magazine section. As a rule he never bothered with them, but he wondered what he could find. There were magazines on guns, gardening, travel, home decorating, and games. He saw the cover of one women's magazine that promised "Fifty Tricks to Make Him Your Sex Slave Forever". He passed on it. Another offered "Twenty Easy Hairstyles" and an article on "Is Your Makeup Right for You?" He flipped through it and put it in the cart. Another magazine promoted an article titled "Office Fashion on a Budget". He took that one, too and headed to the cash registers. The cashier was an older woman of more than fifty years. She complimented him on his willingness to buy such things for his wife, mother, or girlfriend. "Not many men would do that," she said. "They get all embarrassed and confused." Jason held up the paper. "I was given a list," he said. She piled the items into two plastic bags, took his money, and gave him his change. Jason breathed a sigh of relief and looked around to see if everyone was staring at him. No one paid him any mind and he put the things in his car. He stopped at a burger place then went home. After locking the door to his apartment he dumped everything on the kitchen table and sorted through it. He thought again about what he was doing. I'm nuts, he thought, This is crazy. He kicked off his shoes, grabbed the food and magazines, and took a seat on the couch. While munching on the fries, he paged through one of them and spotted an ad for a suede skirt priced at $179. He almost choked. Then he saw an ad for a sweater for $238. He shook his head, People are crazy. He started on the article about fashion on a budget and found it more interesting than he should have. After reading it he went back to the pictures and tried to figure out what made these items "winners" in the office. He looked that the cut, the length, and the styling. Some of the terms baffled him - what is a "fitted waist" or a "notched collar". What about the materials. He decided that he would ask about them tomorrow when they all had lunch. He sucked on the straw to the milkshake and turned to the article on choosing makeup. It not only talked about selecting the correct shades, but gave tips on application techniques. He read the article three times to make sure that he understood what the writer was talking about. Then he wondered if he should try using some of this stuff on his own. He got up, grabbed the mascara and eyeliner from the table and headed to the bathroom. The end result didn't match the pictures in the magazine, but it wasn't a disaster either. He decided that he just needed practice and maybe some guidance. He wondered if he shouldn't have bought lipstick so that he could practice with that as well. Instead he figured that he would give the nail polish a try. He'd seen women using it and thought that he had if figured out. After brushing it on the nails of his left hand he realized that he had to be careful what he touched to keep from smearing the polish. As he put the cap back on the bottle he understood why women moved their hands the way they did; even after it was dry he felt concerned that he might smudge the polish. After his left hand was dry he did the nails on his right hand and only then did he realize that he hadn't bought nail polish remover. He looked at his nails the way women did and decided that it wasn't a crisis; his nails looked nicer, but wouldn't draw unwanted attention. When he went to shower, he resisted the impulse to take the pink razors that he had bought with him. The next morning he stopped at his desk, then went to get coffee. The others were there talking. Monica noticed his nails when he sipped from his cup. "Did you do your nails, Jason?" she said. "They look nice." Maryanne chimed in, "What else did you experiment with?" Jason sighed, "I tried the mascara and eyeliner. It wasn't too bad." He shook his head. "I'm not ready for this whole thing full time." "Well," said Sarah, "that's why you have us. So that you can learn and practice and get used to it in a safe, supportive environment." "So," he hesitated, "you're not going to make fun of me? I mean...I'm not weird. It's not like I'm going to get off on wearing women's clothes and makeup and stuff." "No, of course not," they said. "You don't have much choice and we understand. Unemployment is no fun. Better that you do this than lose everything you have. What's Mrs. Rogers say?" "She said that she'd support me whatever my decision is. It's just weird, that's all." He headed back to his desk to get things ready for the day. When they went to lunch, the girls talked in low tones. "Being a woman or portraying yourself as one is a matter of a lot of study. We each have about 15 years experience on you, so you aren't going to learn it all at once, but you are going to have to pay attention. Watch how other women walk, talk, stand, and sit. That will be a lot of it. It's how we learned - by watching. And not just in real life. Watch the women on your favorite tv shows. Pay attention to how they present themselves and interact with their coworkers and all." Jason nodded. It made sense. "Another thing - if you're going to go through with this, we aren't going to be able to call you 'Jason' anymore. That would attract way too much attention. You're going to have to choose a girl's name." The suggestions came in quickly. "How about Karen or Ann?" "Cynthia?" "Margaret?" "Lisa?" "What about Cheryl?" Sarah turned, "I like that - Cheryl. Cheryl what?" "Cheryl Anne?" "Cheryl Barbara?" "What about Cheryl Lynne?" "Ok," Jason said, "I kinda like 'Cheryl Lynne'." They nodded. "Pretty name, pretty girl." Jason rolled his eyes. "Pretty girl?" "Jason...Cheryl, you're going to have to start thinking of yourself as a girl in order to behave like one and think like one. I suggest that, from now on, we address him," she shook her head, "that we address her as 'Cheryl' and treat her like one of us." They all agreed. "Well," said Maryanne, "I suggest that Cheryl and I go shopping tonight. We can hit the used clothing stores and get her some tops and skirts. Not just for work, but casual wear as well. It will let her get used to wearing them at home or with us and we can coach her on sitting, walking, and all." Sarah agreed. "She'll have to get some other things as well...bras and makeup. Then we can get together at my place and help her put it all together." The suggestion was enthusiastically accepted by everyone but Jason. "Somehow I think that my life is getting just a little crazier than I can handle. Fine," he said, "Cheryl it is." On the way back to the office Jason noticed a young woman in front of them who was wearing very slim jeans that were tucked into her moccasin-style boots. He thought about what his friends had said about fashion and "putting together a look". The woman was attractive, but her outfit seemed to make a statement about her. That evening after work he and Maryanne went to two different used clothing stores. At first he was embarrassed that she kept holding skirts and tops up to him to see if they would fit, then he started doing it himself. She told him what was meant by "pull on" and they found more than a few items that would fit him; including a grey, pinstripe jumper that he could wear to work. He'd have to find a white blouse to wear with it, but it looked very business-like and would strike him just above the knee. They found that his arms were too long for him to wear women's long sleeve shirts, so they settled on short sleeves. When they parted company, Jason stopped and picked up several pairs of skirt hangars before going home. With all of the new clothing his closet and drawers were getting crowded. He slid his suits to the left to make room for his skirts, jumpers, and blouses. It was a snug fit. He had to clear out a drawer for his panties and pantyhose so he put his underwear in a small cardboard box. He decided that his life was getting crazy. After fixing a sandwich he decided to shower and shave his legs. Afterward he resisted the urge to try on the pantyhose; taking his friends' advice and getting used to wearing them to work under his pants. The next day they all decided to meet at Sarah's apartment on Saturday morning and go shopping together. That way Jason could be sure of getting bras and shoes that would fit and having makeup that would work for him. He felt a little weird when he sat down and took off his shoes and socks to try on the black wedges that they had selected for him. When they left the store, they insisted that he wear his new shoes to break them in and get used to them; assuring him that no one would notice that he was wearing women's shoes and pantyhose. It took him some practice to get used to them, but what floored him was when they ushered him into a shop to get his ears pierced. He finally surrendered and bought a pair of cubic zirconia earrings, then they went to lunch together. They talked him out of the burger and fries since it had a gazillion calories. He followed their lead and got the grilled chicken with a side of broccoli. He decided that it was a good choice, but he missed the fries. Monica had plans with her husband so the other three went back to Sarah's apartment so that Jason could dress and practice with the makeup. He felt decidedly weird when he came out of the bathroom dressed head to toe as a woman. It was a blessing that his friends didn't laugh. When he went to sit at the table, Sarah stopped him telling him keep his knees together, sweep his skirt under him, and sit gently. Then he should turn to the table while keeping his knees together. After applying his makeup under their direction they sat there and played cards. Jason made the mistake of drinking soda and had to keep running to the bathroom. It gave him plenty of practice pulling up his pantyhose, making sure that his skirt wasn't tucked in, and the knees-sweep-sit exercise. They gave him the hint that, after drying his hands to run them up his legs to smooth the pantyhose to keep them from sagging. He found that, having shaved his legs, they would itch slightly in one place or another. The occasional scratching got him used to the way his legs felt and, by the end of the day, he was pretty comfortable in them. He drew the line, however, when Sarah and Maryanne suggested that he not change and just drive home in his new clothes. "Cheryl," said Sarah, "you're going to have to get used to going out in a skirt unless you have some way of doing your job on a work-from-home basis." He balked and maintained that he just wasn't ready for it. He pulled his pants on in place of the skirt and realized that he'd have to drive home in full makeup. He tried to reassure himself that it wouldn't matter much and he was going to have to dress fully, makeup to shoes, the next day anyway. Fortunately he had no plans to go anywhere. For the rest of the week Jason went home from work, took off his shirt and pants, then dressed in bra, blouse, and skirt. He'd gotten into the habit of wearing panties and pantyhose to work and even caught himself sweeping the skirt that he wasn't wearing when he sat down at his desk. Sarah and Maryanne told him that the three of them were going out to dinner on Thursday, that Jason would be "dressed", and that they weren't taking 'no' for an answer. He'd had enough practice in the safety of his home and it was time that he get used to being seen in a skirt and makeup in public. They assured him that if he held his voice right that no one would say anything. Thursday night came and they picked him up at his apartment. He walked nervously to the car and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't hear crowds of people laughing at him. In fact there was only one neighbor in the parking lot and he paid Jason no attention at all. When they arrived at the restaurant, Jason got out of the car, smoothed his skirt, and placed his purse on his left shoulder. As they approached the door a couple was leaving and the man held the door for them. It was something else that he would have to get used to. The hostess wasn't much younger than he was and for a brief second he considered flirting with her. He caught himself and decided that it wasn't a good idea. The server was another woman in her mid-twenties and greeted them with, "Good evening, ladies. Girls Night Out? What can I get you to drink?" Sarah and Maryanne smiled slyly at Jason and the three of them placed their orders and considered the menu. After they had ordered Jason felt the need to 'visit the facilities'. Maryanne offered, "Go with." Sarah held the table. As Jason exited the stall Maryanne signaled him to check his skirt to make sure that he wasn't tucked in, then he followed her lead in washing his hands and checking his hair and makeup. She nodded confidently and they returned to the table before the food arrived. Jason struggled to copy their moves of bringing the fork to his mouth instead of meeting it halfway to the plate. He also resisted the urge to order desert. As Sarah drove him home they reassured him that he had done well and his fears were needless. He got out of the car, walked to his door, and breathed a very big sigh of relief as he closed it behind him. He kicked of his shoes, took off the blouse and skirt, and padded around his apartment in his stocking feet. He pulled his hair back and washed his face, then got a bottle of water from the fridge. He sat on the couch and considered what he was doing. The next morning Mrs. Rogers summoned him into her office. "Jason, we're in the last week before the end of the month and I need to know what you've decided. If you're planning on leaving, I need to find a replacement and I won't hide it from you - that will be difficult. If you are staying, you know that you will have to comply with the Dress Code. I'm sorry, but Corporate isn't changing their stance." He motioned over his shoulder with his thumb, "The other girls have been helping to....um, conform to the Dress Code." The other girls? - she thought. She nodded, "I noticed that you've gotten your ears pierced. I assume that you've assembled somewhat of a wardrobe?" "Yes," he said, "and they've taken to calling me Cheryl...just to keep up appearances. They said that it wouldn't work if they continued to refer to me as Jason." She took a deep breath, "I want you to start...conforming...on Monday. I just need to know that everything is going to go well and that your outfits are, shall we say, office appropriate." "Monday!" he panicked, "that's a whole week early." "You either have the clothes or you don't. Another week isn't going to make any difference. I can understand if you need to fine tune a few things, but we don't have the option of sloppiness. You aren't sloppy in any of your other dealings, so I have few concerns about this." He was in shock and turned to leave. "Cheryl," she said, "you're going to be fine." He just nodded in response. When he told the others, he felt like he was dropping a bomb on them, but they were unfazed. Sarah tried to console him, "Cheryl, you knew this was coming. Sure, it's a week earlier than you had expected, but the only left to do is get your hair styled and we were going to do that tomorrow." "I'm not ready," he insisted. "Cheryl, at that rate you'll never be ready," said Monica emphatically. "You don't have a choice now - not that you ever had much choice. It's just timing. You're as ready as you'll ever be. The rest is getting comfortable with it and relaxing." He was at his desk working on a report when Mrs. Rogers approached him. "I need for you to fill out these requests and forward them to HR." He looked at the papers - a security tag request and one for a name plate. She had said that she would support him. It was nice to know that she was following through even though he felt that he still needed the extra week to prepare. Monday morning came earlier than Jason wished. He'd gotten up an hour earlier than usual so that he'd have enough time to get ready. After shaving and styling his hair, he padded to the kitchen in his bra, panties, and pantyhose for another cup of coffee. He returned to the bathroom and carefully applied his makeup, then dressed in a white blouse and the grey jumper. He set his third cup of coffee on the table and sat down without his shoes. It was only after he was seated that he realized that he'd swept his skirt as he'd practiced. Halfway through his coffee, he wanted only to hide under his bed and hope that things would get better. He knew better, however. He parked his car in the lot and took a deep breath, then got out and smoothed his skirt. He pulled his security badge from his purse as he entered the building. Out of nervousness he kept his head down and waved the pass in front of the card reader; which beeped and cleared him for certain floors in the building. No one paid him any attention as he entered the elevator. As his friends had said - everyone was concerned with their own business. He walked to his desk and tossed his nameplate into the bottom drawer with his purse, then concentrated on assembling the morning packet that he always had ready when Mrs. Rogers arrived. Once that was done he went to retrieve a cup of coffee. Sarah and Monica were there and looked him over, "Very nice, Cheryl. Are you ok?" His heart fluttered and his stomach was turning flip-flops, "Yeah, this is me diving into the deep end." He arrived back at his desk just as the phone rang and Mrs. Rogers walked in. He stopped writing long enough to hold up her packet. She took the packet and said, "Cheryl, my office, please." The call ended and he rose, smoothed his skirt, and entered her office just as she was sitting down. He noted that she swept her skirt as she sat. She raised one finger and twirled it slowly. He turned around in place while she looked critically at his outfit. She nodded, "Very nice, Cheryl. Totally appropriate. Are you ok?" "I feel like I'm waiting for a firing squad, but I guess that I'll make it. HR called and asked me to come up for a new security badge." "That will cover you in case you're stopped. Any other problems, just let me know," she replied. "That's all." After posing for the picture of his new badge Jason spent a good amount of time filing. He actually forgot that he was dressed as a female. Maryanne dropped by, "Hey, Cheryl, how's it going?" "Oh, hey, not bad. I got to thinking that you guys were right," he looked at his legs. "This would look better with grey hose." She smiled, "The girl is getting a sense of style. See you. Hey, you want to do lunch with us?" "Sure," he smiled, "that would be great. See you." He was back at his desk when he saw two young women headed his way from the elevators. They had the look of two hungry cats that had spotted a wounded bird. Just before they got to him Mrs. Rogers was right behind them. "Reyna, isn't it?" she asked. One of the girls whirled around as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She had a look of surprise on her face. "Are you bringing me a file from upstairs?" The girl's mouth moved silently as her mind fumbled for an explanation. "Perhaps you got off the elevator on the wrong floor?" Mrs. Rogers offered. "Or maybe the two of you just have a little too much free time?" "Sorry," they offered and hurried back the way they'd come. "Thanks," Jason said. "No problem," she replied. "They had the look of someone looking to start something. I don't see them being a part of the company for much longer. Any other problems?" "No, things are going as usual," he answered. "Good," she smiled. "I like it when things go 'as usual'." That afternoon a company courier arrived with a packet addressed to him as "Cheryl". Inside he found his new security badge, name plate (which he immediately placed squarely on the front of his desk), and several sets of forms needing his attention. Upon examination he found that one form opened his checking account. Two more were a health questionnaire for his health insurance and for dental insurance. All of the forms had his name had been filled in as Cheryl. Most of them needed only his signature. The health form required a brief family history. A note attached stated that he would be informed of the date, time, and place of his physical. He exhaled sharply; wondering how involved and complicated this would get. He started filling in and signing the forms, then placed them back in the inter-office envelope to be returned to HR. When he got home that night, he stripped off his 'girl wear' and sat down at the table in a t-shirt and gym shorts. He absently ran his hand down his legs and noted that he needed to shave them again. He decided that dressing in women's clothing wasn't as bad as he had feared and he did have some support at work. The rest of his week went without incident other than a notice being posted at the coffee maker that offered yoga and aerobics classes after work hours. Sarah, Monica, and Maryanne made the suggestion that he might be interested since they would help get his weight under control and thereby giving him more clothing options. He considered buying tights and leotards. He received another packet from HR containing a notice of his physical, blank checks and a debit card for his new bank account, and, to his surprise, a new social security card - all in the name of Cheryl Lynne Anderson. All of this, he thought, just to keep my job. It was 9:30 when he reported for his physical. After checking in with the receptionist, a nurse drew three vials of blood and directed him to return to the waiting room to be called. The nurse called him in again to take his temperature, blood pressure, and to ask about any recent health problems or pain. When he was shown to the examination room, he wasn't given a gown or directed to undress, so he sat there to wait. A few minutes later the doctor arrived and greeted him. She checked his ears and throat, then listened to him breathe. When she sat down she asked about whether he would be interested in losing weight; citing a higher risk of heart disease, diabetes, and blood pressure. She kept addressing him in female terms. When he expressed his desire to lose weight, she handed him some pamphlets on weight control and their effects on women, then asked him to wait for her. She returned with a bottle of red capsules and explained that they would help him in his weight loss. He read the bottle - take one pill each day. There were sixty pills in the container. He popped one pill into his mouth; may as well get started, he thought. As he left the receptionist scheduled his next appointment for the following month. Two weeks later Jason had lost almost twenty pounds; which was enough to earn him admiring looks from his coworkers. He had also found no need to continue shaving as his beard, slight as it had been, seemed to have quit growing. "Girl you are starting to look good," said Monica. "Yeah," Maryanne chimed in, "you lose any more weight and the guys will all be looking at you and we'll get stuck with your leftovers." Jason almost blushed. "I'm not looking to start dating guys," he whispered. "Why not," asked Sarah, "a hot little slice like you is surely going to get her share of the action." "I...I'm...I...," he stammered and headed back to his desk. After he'd left Maryanne turned to the others, "Do you think that he looked prettier? Maybe those pills are doing something more than weight loss." "What," asked Monica, "pretty pills? There'd be a run on them." But Maryanne wasn't convinced. By the middle of the next week he was down by almost fifteen pounds and most of his clothes weren't fitting any more. Worse; he was swimming in his shoes. His friends reacted excitedly, "Shopping! Another Girls Day Out." "Is this going to be a regular thing with us?" "I don't see why not. Girls need time together." "How about Saturday?" Monica said that Sunday would be better for her since her husband would be tied up with sports and his friends. So Sunday it was. Jason decided to spend Saturday thinning out his closet since it was too crowded to suit him. He spotted himself in the mirror wearing only a t- shirt and a pair of hot pink sports shorts that he'd bought. He decided that Sarah might be right - he was becoming a hot little slice. He found that his old jeans and suit pants were so large on him that he could get his fist inside the waistband and still have room left over. Not only that, but they seemed to be several inches too long for him. He decided to make a donation pile. He added his suit coats which now were too big in the shoulders and hung well below his wrists and his long-sleeve shirts which fit the same way. By the time he was done he'd removed every piece of men's clothing from his closet except his t-shirts which were also decidedly too large for him, but they felt comfortable when he wasn't at work. None of his old shoes fit anymore either; not that he was wearing any but his sneakers. He wound up with two bags of clothes for donation and his box of socks and underwear. He decided to trash the box because they probably wouldn't fit anymore either and to take the other clothes to the used clothing store where he could get a discount coupon. Since he'd been concentrating so far on skirts, he decided to see if there were any women's jeans that he might wear. He held them up to his waist the way Maryanne had done and thought that the pair of size 12s might fit well. Then he stopped at the box store because his bras were on their last catch. He wondered if it was the weight loss that had shrunk his ribcage or washing them had made them stretch. He decided that it was probably a little of both so he purchase the same cup size in a smaller size. When he got home, he tried on his treasures. The bras did indeed fit better and, surprisingly, the jeans not only fit his waist but his hips as well. Surprisingly, he thought that he was filling the bra cups more, but attributed it to being a smaller size even though the cup-size was the same. He admired the fit in the mirror; noticing that his butt was slightly rounded. He thought that if he'd been two people, he'd probably be interested in himself. He went back out shopping again in his jeans and sneakers to get some new shoes and maybe get his hair done. It had been three weeks and wasn't as pretty as it had been when he'd first gotten it cut. He'd tried on several pairs of tennis shoes when he realized that he was in the women's section out of habit, but he'd found a pair that fit well for about $20 so he bought those. On the way out of the store he put on his new shoes and trashed his old ones, then went to the hairstylist. First she washed his hair and he thought that he'd figured out why women got their hair done so often. It was heaven. She suggested an undercut and showed him pictures of it and how to style it. He felt wonderful as he walked from the shop. The next day his friends complimented him on his hairstyle and Maryanne quipped, "She really does have better legs than I do." "Will you please stop," he answered. "That's embarrassing." But he was secretly pleased that she thought he had nice legs. Then he questioned his reaction. He wasn't aware that he had what would be called a 'fetching little twitch' when he walked. They had done some shopping, had lunch together, and had wandered the mall for a little while. They were talking and joking as the four stepped from the ladies room when they spotted the four police officers talking with a fat black woman who was screaming her head off. "There he is," she shouted. "That man was just in the ladies room. That pervert needs to be arrested. What are you going to do?" Two of the officers were trying to quiet her while the other two approached Jason and his friends. One of the cops looked decidedly uncomfortable about the situation. "Sorry, ladies, but I'm going to need to see some identification." He looked Jason over from head to toe and Jason began to get uncomfortable. He reached into his purse and drew out his company security badge, then the other girls did the same. The officer took the badge and looked it over, then glanced at the other three. "You all work for the same company?" "Yes," said Monica, "We're all secretaries on the same floor." The cop nodded, handed Jason his ID back, and said, "Sorry for the intrusion, ladies. You have a good day." He gave Jason one more look then went back to the other officers. The woman was still kicking up a fuss and drawing a crowd. The officer told his colleagues that Jason had checked out as female, then told the complaining woman, "We were called here because of a disturbance and as far as I can see you are the only one creating a problem. Those four women check out. Now either control yourself or we'll have to control you. We have a very nice psychiatrist down at the station who would really like to chat with you." "I am not crazy," she screamed. "That is a man! He needs to be arrested." She was still screaming wildly as they handcuffed her and led her away. "That was close," said Jason. "Nonsense," replied Sarah. "That cop was checking you out, but not because of what that woman said." Jason turned to her wide-eyed, "He was not checking me out!" "Yeah, he was," said Maryanne. "Told you that you were a little hottie," said Monica. "I am not a hottie," insisted Jason. "Could have fooled me," added Sarah. "That cop wasn't the only one checking you out." Jason sputtered for a moment, then stormed off down the mall. The others caught up with him quickly. Maryanne whispered to him, "You do look good. I'm jealous." "You can stop now," said Jason emphatically. After he had been on the weight loss pills for a month, the other girls challenged him - "Cheryl, how tall are you?" "Five foot ten," he replied. They all shook their heads. "No," said Monica, "I'm 5'7" and you aren't much taller than me." "Pills can't make you shorter," he insisted; shaking his head. He had noticed that his testicles seemed to be drawn up a bit; closer to his body, but he thought that it was because he had been wearing panties. "That's not all," said Sarah. "Either you are getting better at holding your voice higher or it's changing. It sounds different than before; smoother and softer." "Nah, you guys are just imagining things," he replied. It was two weeks later that he found that he had to replace his clothes again because they were getting too large. Moreover, he found that his shoes weren't fitting as well. These caused him some concern. If he was changing, it was so slow that he hadn't really noticed it. He made a note to ask the doctor at his next appointment. Other than those things he was getting on well at work; it seemed that he was enjoying things more. Then again, he was lunching regularly with the other girls and they had occasional shopping trips that he always enjoyed. It also seemed that he had more energy and was overall a pretty happy person. Sometimes he caught himself smiling at some guy who he caught looking at him, but he thought nothing of it. He had been wearing women's clothing for over two months and no longer gave it a second thought. Bras, panties, and skirts were normal for him. So was ducking into the ladies restroom or wearing makeup. It ceased to occur to him that he wasn't female - he just never gave it a thought. He found that, most of the time, he would sit and cross his legs like any other woman. He thought nothing of slipping a headband on to hold back his hair or even tying it back in a ponytail on weekends. When shopping by himself, he often stopped to look at a dress or pair of shoes or boots that caught his eye. He had placed small crystal or ceramic items on doilies around the living room. In his bedroom he had a couple of pictures of flowers either in a vase or a garden. His whole apartment was taking on a much more feminine appearance. He just thought that it looked prettier. At his second physical the nurse took blood and weighed him again. When the doctor came in she complimented him on his weight loss and discounted his thoughts of being shorter. She did say that he needed an injection for a slight infection even though he felt fine. She also gave him a bottle of ten pills. The label said to take one pill twice each day until gone. He would take one then and another that evening; which meant that they would last until Sunday night. By Friday afternoon he was definitely not feeling well. He felt a little light-headed and had some slight cramping in his lower abdomen. Mrs. Rogers asked if he needed to go home, but he was determined to stick it out. Saturday morning came and he felt worse. He took his pills, had some coffee, and went back to bed. He got up only to go to the bathroom and get something to drink, then he headed back to bed. He didn't start feeling better until Sunday evening. He took his last pill and managed to eat a small amount of food - the first he'd had since Friday. After more than an hour he felt well enough to shower and headed to the bathroom. He lathered his legs to shave them and came to the stark realization that he no longer had a penis between his legs. He checked with his fingers only to find that his male anatomy had vanished and had been replaced with a vagina. His head swam and he sat on the cold porcelain tub to try to recover his wits. He'd been tricked. The pills that the doctor had given him had shortened his arms and legs, made his hands and feet smaller and more feminine, cancelled his beard, changed his voice, widened his hips, and made his skin softer. The last ten pills that he'd been given had swapped his genitalia. In short - he'd been made into a total woman. He wondered absently if he'd have a period and if he could get pregnant. He was definitely going to call the doctor in the morning and give her hell. He might even sue if she couldn't reverse these things. He was a man and he wanted his body back. He shaved his legs, washed, and wrapped his hair in a towel. He stripped off the old nail polish and applied a coat of polish in a new color that he'd bought. All the time he was insisting that he was a man and not a woman. The next morning he styled his hair and applied makeup then donned a blouse and skirt. He slipped into his new, black pumps and checked the sky to see if it might rain. He was seriously going to give that doctor 'what for' when he got to work. He retrieved his coffee cup from his desk and headed toward the coffee maker where he found Sarah, Monica, and Maryanne talking. "You feeling any better, Cheryl?" asked Maryanne. "No," he stated emphatically. "Those pills the doctor has had me taking - they've changed me. Really changed me." They frowned, "Yeah, you've lost all that excess weight that you were carrying." "No, you don't get it. The next time I get a physical I'll be in stirrups and seeing an OB/GYN." "Cheryl," Monica said carefully, "you don't need stirrups or an OB/GYN. Those are for...well, you should know better." "That's the point," he countered flatly. "That's the changes I'm talking about. I'm calling that doctor and I'm going to sue if she doesn't undo this." The three stood in stunned silence for a moment. "You mean..." began Sarah. "Uh...yeah!" he cut in. "So...you mean..." "I mean that I'm probably going to need some guidance on tampons," he said heatedly. "Oh, god," they each said softly. After a moment Maryanne said, "Wait a second. You've been living as a woman 24/7 for almost three months. And now you're saying that you want to be a man? The only difference that I can see is that you can't pee standing up." He turned to her. "I haven't peed standing up since...what I mean is that...," his voice faded. His mouth moved silently for a moment. "On the plus side," said Monica, "you can start dating some of those guys that you've been flirting with." "I have not been flirting," he said. "Oh, yes you have," countered Sarah. "Not only that, but now you can take one home with you and get laid." "I...I'm not...I don't...," he stammered. He turned and went back to his desk. He sat down and crossed his legs. These were his friends. Couldn't they understand that he...well...he searched for a hole in what they'd said. They were right. He had been living as a woman. What had changed? He had to sit to pee? He'd been doing that. He...well, he...finally he surrendered; there was no difference to his life except that now he could get laid. I don't want to have sex with a man - he thought, but there was a certain twinge in his belly somewhat below his stomach. It was not unpleasant. He was still searching his reasoning when another inter-office envelope came. It was addressed to him. Inside he found a new driver's license. It listed his sex as "F", his height at 5'5" and his weight at 130 lbs. He shook his head. Someone had gone to a lot of planning. Later he found out that when he had decided to comply with the Dress Code, Corporate had decided that he had secretly desired to be female all along...even in he hadn't known it. They had merely made the choices for him. The thoughts didn't leave him as he prepared Mrs. Rogers' morning packet. He wondered what it would be like to date a man, have a man's arm around his shoulders, and be kissed by a man. None of these thoughts were entirely unpleasant. His thoughts went a step further. What would it be like to be in bed, on his back, with a man lying on top of him, kissing him? He snapped out of his reverie as Mrs. Rogers greeted him and took the file from his hand. He found his three friends all at Maryanne's desk. He immediately apologized for his earlier attitude. "You guys have been terrific all they way through this whole ordeal and I was a jerk." They smiled and told him that it was ok. It must have been quite a shock, they said and they sympathized. "Now you have another problem," said Monica, smiling. "If you get married, who's going to be your Maid of Honor?" They all laughed. "Sorry, but I've had enough shocks and surprises for a while," he said. He realized at that point the he couldn't think of himself as 'he' anymore - it had to be 'she'. He...no, she was totally and entirely girl now. Somehow that didn't bother her anymore. She reflected on that thought and smiled broadly.