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Of Fools and Pantyhose Belladonna We are our only siblings, but my sister and I have never been close. There was a bit of a rivalry between us growing up, however, it never really changed anything. My mother clearly favored her only son, and my father just as overtly favored his little girl. We all knew it, even if our parents wouldn't come right out and say it. While my father favored Constance, or Connie, as he alone was allowed to call her, he groomed me to take over the family business. Constance was well aware of it too. Although she stood to inherit half of my father's 51 percent interest in the family company, my father was careful to let her know that it was my destiny to run it. Constance never challenged my father's word in his lifetime. She congratulated me when my father brought me into the company as a vice president. I was on the Board of Directors long before he put her on as the secretary to the Board. Outwardly, she was utterly content with the natural order of things. Things change though, as things are want to do. My mother died first. My father followed her not long after, losing the will to go on without her. Some around us choose to see it as romantic, my sister and I viewed it as devastating double loss. Still, we collected ourselves and focused our minds on our jobs. I focused on my sudden control of the company. The company had only known success when my father and his father before him had been at the helm. The company's true family nature was long established by the start of my reign. My aunt had sold the 49 percent share my grandfather had left her to a number of minority investors impressed by my father's assertiveness, rarely erring eye for an investment and seemingly never ending good fortune. Soon after I took control of the company, I began to expand the company away from its core functions. I wanted to create a zaibatsu in America. My sister told me I was out of my mind. Some of our more shortsighted investors shared her narrow-minded opinion too. I was sure of myself, however, so, I pressed forward with my own investments as I sought to grow my company into a giant. When the initial returns started coming in, they were as bad as my sister and some of the investors predicted they would be. For the first time a Simon man was outvoted by the Board. They cut their losses and divested the company of my side ventures. I was left to seethe when I watched them start to turn profits not long after we sold them off. My chastising of the Board for their shortsightedness did not sit well. My sister joined with the investors to claim that the companies only became successful because people who knew what they were doing were running them. I was appalled by her assertion. I followed her out of the meeting and shouted at her, quoting the Godfather, "Never go against the family." Michael had Fredo, I had Constance. We all had our crosses to bear, except I could never bring myself to wack her, no matter what she did. Shortly thereafter, I made a series of bold moves, none of which paid the immediate dividends demanded by those that demand instant gratification. The Board was angry. I shouted them down. The company was not floundering. It was growing. Sometimes you have to take losses, when you're playing a long game. At the next shareholders meeting, my fate was sealed. A vote came down for the President. A Simon man had been in that position since our founding. After that vote, however, I was out. The only votes I received were from me. My sister had joined with the other investors to weasel her way into the position. She was immediately named CEO, and I was forced down from the position to make way for her. The Board then voted for the Vice President, naming one of the investors. At the end of the day, I was demoted to Secretary to the Board and an associate Vice President position in the company. It was all for show though, a pity gesture by my sister and her lackeys for forcing me out of my rightful position. My duties as the secretary to the Board were to keep minutes, while my day-to-day job was nothing more than show up and do nothing. I had no authority over anyone, except the administrative assistants. I did not have much use for them though since I had no real work to speak of. I was marginalized, sitting in the office that formerly housed my sister while she took residence in the executive office that my father had built for the first-born Simon son. He would roll over in his grave if he knew that Constance had sided with outsiders to oust me from the position. My free time gave me plenty of time to search the internet. I scoured the news for investment ideas and made a few on my own. I made some nice money off them and wished that I could get the company to let me take my ideas to another level. Still, a year passed and nothing changed as we were reelected to our positions. I was still given no real work to do. I just sat in my office searching the internet, watching the clock and playing solitaire and minesweeper. It was mindless tedium. I looked for an escape before I came across reports of a discrete company that specialized in making people into other people. I found the whole thing preposterous, but I needed to escape from my ho-hum, humbled life in the worst way. I daydreamed about being to walk down the street without the stigma of being the failed Simon. A family of successes, and my name had become associated with failure in the industry all because my sister and the other shareholders could not wait for my efforts to start bearing bountiful fruit. By the time my former secretary walked into my office to tell me that Constance needed to speak to me to give me a special assignment, I was ready to quit. It was only the decent salary that kept me chained to my desk. I walked into her office, feeling a measure of satisfaction that she was finally going to make use of my talents. My sister smiled at me. She typically did so, even though I had not returned her politely affectionate looks since she had stolen my job. I sat down in the guest chair in front of my old desk. I immediately felt a longing to sit behind the ornate wooden desk that my grandfather had hand carved for himself eight decades earlier. That was a different time, however. One in which people understood the importance of family, loyalty and tradition and women knew their place. My sister sitting behind the desk in her pumps and red skirt suit made a mockery of all that. My aunt knew she had no place in the company. My sister should have sold her shares to me if she felt I was running the company the wrong way. It was my company to run. That was the way our father wanted it, the way our grandfather wanted it, and she knew it. Constance smiled as she tasked me with picking out the new carpet for the office and the new wallpaper for the boardroom. I gave her a blank stare as I processed my orders. This was the special assignment I was being given! It was the most significant task I had been assigned since I was forced out of my leadership role; however, it was still a joke of a task and complete waste of my talents. Interior decorating, the height of women's work at that! I protested, which my sister dismissed as a tantrum before I went back to my office to sulk. After a few minutes, I was back looking at the computer screen and searching the internet. It was not long before I came across stories about the clinic once again. My mouth watered about the thought of being someone else. It would certainly get me out of my rut. I blinked quickly as I sat up as an idea popped into my head. I was sure that my sister was steering the company in the wrong way. There had to be proof, but the whole staff was watching me like a hawk. I was persona non grata to my sister when it came to the affairs of the business and that had trickled down to all my employees. None of them was allowed to share any of the real news of the company with me. All I got was the quarterly reports like I was nothing more than any other shareholder in the company. They painted a rosy picture, but I was sure it was all smoke and mirrors. My father did not trust my sister with his company, and I certainly didn't either. I pounded my fist on the desktop and shut my web browser. I sat back in my seat and massaged my temples as I thought about contacting the clinic. It was crazy, but I was desperate. I reopened my browser and took down the number before I went out to lunch. I made a call to the company and spoke with a representative before I scheduled a consultation for the following evening. The hours leading up to the consultation were nerve wracking. I wanted to know if they could really do all that they promised. They promised that they could make me virtually any type of person that could fit around my 5'9" frame. I hoped it was so, but I was not one to get my hopes up after spending over a year in my neutered position within the company. I struggled to find the clinic the next evening. There were no clear markings that indicated its existence other then number of the address on the building. I knocked upon the door and was greeted by an imposing doorman who asked me to state my business. I gave him my name. After he checked with security, I was allowed through the door. It was a bizarre setup, one seemingly designed to keep the secrets that occurred inside the clinic there. Confidentiality was something I needed at the moment anyway, so I was certainly happy for their efforts. I was greeted by a young woman who went through what the clinic could do to me. There were tons of before and after shots. They did not even look like the same people. I had seen special effects and makeup artists do the same, however, so I was hardly amazed by any of it. The girl kind of noticed my ho hum dismissal of her claims. She smiled as she said "Perhaps a demonstration is order?" "What do you have in mind?" "How about a little voyeurism?" "Do you have make it seem so sorted?" I inquired. She shrugged and then smiled as she got to her feet. I followed her through the rooms as she took me on the tour of the freak show that her bosses had created. The people were in various stages of transition, crossing genders, races and ages. It was insane. I struggled to keep for gawking at the freaks. I couldn't understand it. No fifty-year-old guy needs to look like an 18-year-old girl. No 30-year-old white man needs to look like a fifty-year-old black woman. These people were clinically disturbed, but the clinic did some job making their peculiar wants a reality. By the time we ended up back in her office, I was a convert. I knew that there was no way that I was not going through with it. She inquired if I knew what I wanted to become. I shook my head. Apparently, this made me something of a curiosity for her. I couldn't make up my mind. The last thing I needed to do was become Asian girl when we needed a Black guy for EEOC compliance purposes. No, I needed to wait until I found out where we were hiring and what we were looking for. I told the girl that I would be in touch before I headed for the door. I rushed out of the clinic that night with my mind swimming. I just had to figure out how I could enter the office as someone else. Surely, we were going to hire somebody soon enough. As soon as I found who we were looking for, I was going to stop at nothing to become the right person. The next morning, I strolled towards the HR Department and knocked upon the door of Pablo, the head of the Department. Pablo smiled at me and told me to enter. He was surprised that I closed the door behind me. He gave me an inquisitive look before I said, "Pablo, are we looking to add anyone soon?" Pablo gave me a blank look. I suppose that he did not want to share such details with me, however, Pablo owed his job to me. He also has a sense of loyalty that I found lacking in most others, but never in Pablo. After a pause, he replied, "Just one." "What's it for?" "We need a temp secretary to fill in for when Karen goes out on maternity leave." I cringed at the thought of becoming that. I shook my head at the thought before I asked, "There's nothing else?" "Not on the horizon. At least at the corporate level," Pablo replied, cementing my disappointment. I let out a deep breath before I said, "Pablo, I have a favor to ask." "What's that?" Pablo inquired with a smile. I knew I was crazy for even thinking of going through with it. Still, I was not going to back down at that point. My father taught never to back down from a fight, and I was fighting for my company. I didn't care if I was fighting in pants or pantyhose, I was going to do my best to save the family company from my sister. I forced a smile to my face as I answered him, "I have a girl in mind for the position." Pablo raised his eyebrows up as he flashed me the dirty old man look he often sported when we talked about women. He asked with a wink, "Is she someone on the side?" "Nothing like that. She's just a friend." "Oh, I never date girl who only has a friend," Pablo joked with a grin. "I'm not asking you to date her. I'm asking you to hire her," I countered. "What's her name?" I thought about it for a second before I said, "Beatriz Esquivias," figuring that he would be drawn to the surname due to his undeniable weakness for Hispanic women. Pablo leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard with a smile. He looked at me and asked, "When she can she start?" I thought back to the available dates from the clinic and said, "A few weeks, tops." Pablo nodded as he said, "Assuming, Karen doesn't go too early. I can hold the spot open till then. If she's remotely qualified, I'll hire her for you." I nodded in response before I thanked Pablo. He seemed amused by my gratitude to him. I was not used to giving it to be honest either. I walked out of the room and immediately told my sister that I was taking a leave of absence. Constance shook her head as she responded, "But who will pick out the carpet?" "I think someone else could handle it," I replied, knowing that any executive in the company could handle it, and, just as likely, our office manager or maintenance company could too. Constance nodded before she replied, "You know your leave is going to be unpaid, right?" 'I'm pretty much doing the same thing I do here,' I thought before I replied, "Understood." "In that case. Take as long as you want," Constance replied, seemingly for no other purpose than driving home just how useless she felt I was. I was going to show her though. I was certain of it. I collected my things and left the office. I immediately made arrangements for the first available date to start my dreaded transition to pseudo womanhood. When the time came, I walked into the non-descript building, eager to undergo the transformation even though the thought of doing it made me uneasy. I was never so certain about going through with anything in my life. I was going to save my company and show the world what a conniver my sister really was. Still, having to do it in the world of heels and frills was sickening. I knew I had to suck it up. So, I greeted the staff and was given a brief overview of what they were going to do to me. They gave me all the standard disclaimers that I just shrugged off. I could barely contain myself when they finally asked if I was ready to begin. I had been ready long before they were! My determination to complete my mission was unshakeable. The first thing they asked me was about the body type I wanted. The slender route was a harder go than the fat suit, but I had to keep Pablo in mind. I shook my head when they said they could make me appear fat. I knew Pablo just might pass me over if I was fat, even with his promise to me. Pablo liked his women shapely, not rotund. With that decision conveyed to the staff, they gave me some anti-muscle milk that was supposed to help me lose weight and muscle mass. They wanted to smooth my overall body out by getting rid of the upper arm muscles that they said give men away when they wear sleeveless dresses, as if anyone you could call a man would ever wear such things. Still, I was only supposed to lose so much weight. Pablo liked girls with big tits. I needed them as a selling point to ensure that I got the job. I told them that I needed D-Cups, so I needed the thick body that comes with that naturally curvaceous territory. By the end of my first day, I was under full treatment. I was walking around the facility with long hair, the product of chestnut colored extensions that were falling down to my D-Cup breasts forms. The forms were weighted to simulate the feeling of the semi-permanent breasts prosthetics I was going to get once my body was ready for them. Given my anticipated weight loss, all semi-permanent prosthetics had to wait until the end of the physical transition process. Accordingly, I was given temporary glue-ons to get the feeling right. I felt that the latex tits and pussy were training wheels for what I was going to experience; just like the red kitten heels they put on my feet to start working me up to the 3 to 4 inch heeled shoes that Pablo and I shared a passion for on girls' feet. I was put through my first drills in them, and my feet ached more than a little by the time I was allowed to go to bed. Day after day, I woke up to undergo more horrid training. They worked on everything from my feet to my head. I was taught how to use my hands more when I spoke. I always did it anyway, so I was already on my way towards that goal. My speech pattern was changed. I was made to speak softer and with a more emotive tone, even though they told me that a device was going to be hooked up to my throat to help create the sound of a female voice coming through my lips. As much as I dedicated myself to the tasks, I kept having to reinforce my resolve to continue on with my mission. Doubts kept creeping into my mind that I would be sniffed out and that this would all be a waste. It kept me up many nights. I was nervous about what this would all due to me when it was done and over. Fears that I would slipup and be man with all the ridiculous traits of femininity gnawed at me too. It was all for a purpose though. I knew that I wouldn't let this make a sissy out of me while I submitted more and more to the training. Each morning, I was tutored on the art of how to dress myself, style my long hair and do my makeup. I learned the things that all girls learned as they grow up over the years in the course of a few weeks. The details of a typical girl's life were instilled in me. I kept repeating the story until it was as real to me as the one I lived. I was a young Latina girl from a working class background. My mother and father both worked their whole lives. My mother was a cleaner and my father was a grocery store manager. My schooling ended with graduating a heavily minority, city public high school with a solid B minus average. In short, my background was the definition of ordinary. There was nothing spectacular about it that would raise any red flags. It was so ordinary that there was nothing to investigate because no one would makeup a life so utterly vanilla and uninteresting. I brushed up on my Spanish too. I spoke a good amount of it, having studied it at the insistence of my father, who went to his deathbed certain that the Mexicans were going to takeover country. He was trying to get me and my sister prepared for the future, and he had certainly helped me in this quest to reclaim it for me and my family. As each day passed, it became easier to see myself as Beatriz Esquivias. I was noticeably losing weight and muscle mass. I could see it as my dresses and skirts looked better over my smooth, nylon-covered legs each day. I grew more confident in heels with each passing day too. The minor surgeries to my body helped with it as well, since they started to suck the fat out of my thighs and inject into my ass and cheeks. My rear grew shapelier with each injection, and I felt comfortable with my dresses and skirts hugging it to make clear that I had some shape to me. While I was hardly J. Lo. or Beyonce, I was getting somewhere closer to there than to a boy with a skinny white ass. My skin tone tanned too. It grew darker, but not very dark. It looked like I just had a good, healthy tanned skin tone. As the end of my stay in the facility neared, I was taken in for my prosthetics. Fake tits and a fake pussy were affixed to me before they were made to look seamless, like a true part of me. They then dressed up my face with nose and chin enhancements to give me a softer look that would help distinguish me from the man I had always been know as. The skin tone, hair, makeup, weight loss and prosthetics had rendered me unrecognizable to myself. The only part of me that seemed off was my voice. The device they attached to my throat and covered up with more prosthetics took care of that though. My voice was high and perky. It seemed so strange to be coming from me, but I was excited by what it meant to my ability to pass myself off as Beatriz. I exited the clinic bearing no resemblance to the white man who walked into it. My heavy, fake tits jiggled on my chest, even as they were restrained by my bra and pulled my body down. My feet were perched on two-inch heels. My stride was held in check by the tight hem of my colorful, floral print skirt. My fingernails on the tips of my hairless hands were painted a pink color to match the color that was on my full, collagen-enhanced lips. I took a taxi to my new home. The neighborhoods certainly changed as I continued on my way there. The neighborhood the taxi pulled into was nowhere near the worst I had ever seen, but I could see some sketchy characters on the street. We pulled up in front of the building where the clinic rented me an apartment for my cover. It was the working class Hispanic neighborhood where a girl like me would be expected to live. I paid the cab fare and hurried towards the building, not wanting to spend more time than necessary on the ruffian and cockroach-infested streets. I fiddled with the keys until I found the one that worked the front door. From there I had to find another key to let me into the staircase that led to my third floor walkup. I opened the apartment door and looked inside. I peered around a corner before I locked the door behind me. The apartment was dank and outdated. It was hardly the stuff of a prison cell, but it was a far cry from the luxuries I was used too. I suppose that was the point though. I wasn't supposed to be like Jason Simon. I was supposed to be Beatriz Esquivias. I put down my purse and searched through the small apartment. The kitchen was filled with the various things I would need from food to pots and pans. I was pleased that I would not have to go shopping for a while before I sat down on the couch and turned on the television. I was drawn to the news. Once I was sufficiently depressed, I changed the channel. I channel surfed for a while before I settled on a historical program. My mind drifted while I watched the television. I wondered what Constance was doing at that moment. Who was she ordering about? Was relishing her power the way I did? I wanted the answers, but I was not able to get them yet. Knowing I was due back in the office for an interview, I decided to go out. I wanted to test out my new looks on my neighborhood before I showed them off to people who were not strangers to me, even though I was certainly stranger to them. I put on a pair of flats and headed out the door to make my way through the neighborhood. I stopped in at a pizzeria and grabbed a bite to eat. Some of the men made eyes at me. I kind of smiled at it. It was so strange to be admired for my beauty for a change. I wondered how women dealt with it, but I knew it was better than the alternative, at least for a real girl. I ate my lunch before I continued walking. Some people smiled at me. I smiled at them. I got a few "Chica" comments that I was able to move on from though. Most other people just ignored me. I was anonymous here and loved the fact that no one saw a single thing wrong with me. They thought that I was a just another cute Hispanic girl in the neighborhood, no better than the literally thousands of others. I loved it. I really thought that I would be able to do what I set out to do. I went back to my apartment after stopping to buy milk at a bodega. I made myself dinner before I rested before the television. I turned in early that night, knowing that I had a big day ahead of me. The next morning, I went back to my old office for my interview with Pablo. It was huge change of pace to ride the subway to work. I was used to taking my car and parking it, but I knew that a girl like me could not afford to do so, and I could not afford raise suspicions. The ride to the office was uneventful. I was part of the mass of people getting on and off the train car. We all ignored each other, each too caught up in our own world to engage in conversation with a stranger. To my relief though, there was no one I recognized on the train before I got off. I ascended the steps out of the station and made the two block walk to my office without incident. I smiled at the security guard at the counter while I walked into the building. I went to walk past the guest line before the security guard said, "Can I help you, Miss?" I told him my business in the building before he inquired, "Do you have a Building ID Card?" 'Not one that would do me any good,' I thought before I shook my head. He pointed me towards the line to sign in to go up to the various businesses in the building. I politely thanked the man before I turned and walked from him. The lecherous man just smiled. I caught his glimpsing down at my rear as I walked away. I paid it little attention though. I knew that ogling was something that I was going to deal with when I had shaped my body the way I did. It was the whole point really. I waited my turn on the line before the smiling security guard signed me into the building. He tried to flirt with me a little. I gave him polite responses to his sickening advances before he let me go on my way to the elevators. I waited in silence with a group of people before the elevator doors opened to the lobby. A few people exited before we got on and pressed the buttons for our floors. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach while I was whisked up the building. I watched the floors click by, feeling more unsure of myself as my floor grew ever closer. While I had fooled strangers and the security guards who rarely saw me other than when I flashed my Building ID, this was different. I was going to be surrounded by people that knew Jason Simon from his flesh to his quirks. While I had hid the flesh, the quirks could still give me up if I wasn't careful. My heart started to race as the floor before mine clicked by. I flinched as the bell rang for my floor. I stepped off the elevator with a few others before we each went towards our destinations. Mine was two glass doors under large print brass letters containing my last name. Well, at least the name everyone was used to calling me. I pushed through the doors. My eyes caught the familiar receptionist's in an instant. She smiled at me. I wondered if she saw threw my disguise already. We did not talk much, but we each saw the other everyday. I started to panic a little before she asked for my name. I paused before I gave it, "Beatriz Esquivias." "And you're here for what?" "An interview with Pablo Antenora," I replied, feeling more confident about my disguise as the girl gave no hint that she knew who I was. "Is he expecting you? I don't see an appointment." "Yes," I replied, starting to panic that I had undergone everything to date for nothing. The receptionist nodded before she picked up the phone and called over to Pablo. My stomach sank as she gave him my fake name. I feared that he had gone back on his word. Maybe my sister found out about it. She would have squashed it immediately if she did. I cursed myself in my mind as I shifted my feet in the heels that had been sending pain signals up my legs for countless hours. I would have cried on the spot like the woman I appeared to be if my self-inflicted torture had been all for nothing. The receptionist then gave another nod as Pablo confirmed that he had an appointment with me to my relief. I let out a little smile as the receptionist said, "You can take a seat. Pablo will be with you shortly." I nodded in appreciation before the girl said, "I love that jacket." "This old thing," I gushed as I pulled at it, careful to remember the recommendations of the staff to act like a woman. To me that meant taking a compliment and giving one. So, I added, "I love that blouse. The lace trim is so cute." It was good that my father was dead because he would have struck me down if he ever heard me say such a thing. The receptionist beamed before I took a seat and opened the jacket. I waited for a few minutes in silence before I picked up one of the magazines on the table. I went for a People magazine, feeling that it was the least offensive to hold and still show the staff that I was a girl. One hundred percent! Pablo came out a few minutes into my glossing over celebrity news that was mostly fixated at imagining the clothing was off the girls depicted in the magazine. I put the magazine down and smiled at him as I reminded myself to convey the feminine charms that Pablo so loved to talk about. I approached the man. Although we were the same height, in heels I appeared slightly taller than him. I bowed a little to shake his hand, letting him take a good hard look at my ample, false cleavage in the process. Just as I suspected, the dirty old man's eyes darted to my D-Cup bust line. I gave Pablo a smile and said, "Jason's told me a lot about you." "I bet he has," Pablo replied with a grin while he let me in. I turned towards Pablo and caught him staring at my rear and knew that my efforts were bearing fruit already. Pablo noticed that I caught him too. His eyes darted away while he hastily said, "Come into the conference room." I nodded and followed him in. He rushed to sit at the end of the table and I sat at the first seat to his right while he began to look over my resume. Pablo nodded at it as he said, "It's very impressive." "Thanks," I replied, knowing how expensive it was for the clinic to create a phony resume complete with fraudulent references. I crossed my nylon-covered legs. I knew how much Pablo loved pantyhose on a girl, and I was not leaving any stone untouched. Pablo paused to glimpse down at them. His head darted back up to my smiling face. I could see Pablo squirm in his seat to adjust his pants so that I would not catch a glimpse of his erection. I felt strangely powerful knowing I had that effect on him. Part of me was disturbed that I was turning on a man, but another part was excited about the feeling of power that was returning to me for the first time since I was dethroned. Pablo collected himself and said, "Miss Esquivias..." "Please, Beatriz," I countered with a grin while I leaned forward to give him another glimpse of the rack he was so enamored with. "Yes, Beatriz. What makes think you'd like to work here?" "I've known about the company for a long time. I've heard such good things," I answered as I worked my right foot out of my heels and let it dangle from my pantyhose covered toes. Pablo took a good look at it, clearly not paying attention to what I had to say. Pablo coughed and looked away before he said, "I love your personality." "Thanks. You seem very nice too, Sir," I replied, knowing that if he was not faithfully married, Pablo would not just be eye humping me. "Please call me Pablo." "Sure...Pablo," I replied, trying my best to be something out of central casting for a flirtatious secretary. Pablo straightened up in his chair before I re-crossed my legs. As I was mid cross, I caught his eyes looking. I would have Sharon Stoned him if it wasn't for the gusset of my pantyhose. Pablo's jaw went slack for a moment before he realized that he was not supposed to be giving into his baser instincts in an interview. Hell, I would have fired him on the spot if I could for having seen him do it. Pablo collected himself. I could see he was almost in fear of me telling someone what I had seen him do. I'm sure there were other girls that would back up my claims that he was a sexual harasser for the right price. I have no doubt he realized it too when he stammered, "We'd like to make you an offer." I would have accepted any offer he made. He offered me a three-month job with a possible chance to come on fulltime. I had no doubt that my heavy breasts and the feeling of pained feet would be memories to me in three months, but I could not let that on. I thanked Pablo profusely. Pablo went to shake my hand goodbye, but I stayed in character and placed a kiss on his bearded cheek while I told him he would not regret hiring me. The way his hand immediately dove into the pocket of his suit pants told me that he was not going to grow tired of looking at me for a long time either! Pablo showed me out before I said goodbye to the receptionist that 'Beatriz' had 'met' in passing that day. I walked out of the office, clutching my pocketbook and feeling like I was on top of the world again. I went back to my apartment and decompressed. I lounged around while I daydreamed about being able to walk back into the office and start getting to the bottom of things. The days before my first day dragged by. I did anything and everything to pass the time. I went shopping for food. Shopping for clothes. Watching daytime television, which seemed like a punishment from God. I even cleaned up around my apartment after finding the cleaning supplies. Jason Simon had never cleaned up after himself in his life, so I figured it was best that I take to it to make sure that I stayed in the right frame of mind. I kept reminding myself to act like a woman. I couldn't be Jason. The part of me that darted into his mindset hated what I had to pretend to be. It was sickening to think that I was pretending to be a woman like I was the biggest faggot in the world. I had kissed a man on the cheek and there would be more of that in my skirted future. I had done everything short of rolling up my skirt to let him fuck me to get the job. I wouldn't go that far. Not even for my company. I was sure of that, but then again, I had been sure that I would never spend a second of my life in a dress a year before. Jason still wouldn't do those things though. I only did them because I was Beatriz, now, and it what was expected of me. Jason and I shared the same goal, but I was Beatriz, nothing more than a common, high school educated temp, and I couldn't afford to let myself think otherwise. The first day of work was terrifying. I was so nervous that I would screw up and let out something that only Jason knew that I kept repeating to myself that I was Beatriz the whole train ride to work. I stepped off the train and made my way to the bus stop as I clutched my purse like I had seen a number of other women doing the first time around. Given that, I figured that the area was likely not the safest or best policed in the city. I boarded the bus with the others. A gentleman got up and let me have his seat. I never expected to be on the receiving end of such chivalry, but I was thankful to him for letting me get off my heeled feet. A woman next to me paid my pumps a compliment. I thanked her before I returned her compliment with one about the sleeveless shift dress she was wearing. By the time I exited the bus at my stop, I felt more comfortable in my female role. Jason had never experienced or done what I had done. I was Beatriz, and I could be Beatriz full time. I was sure of it. I walked into the office building and was taken for a Building Identification Card picture before they let me go on my way up to the office. I gave a smile, waive and a friendly hello to the receptionist as I walked in through the front door. We exchanged pleasantries before I walked past her and into the general office area. I stared through the open floor plan that housed a number of our lower ranking employees before I made my way to the central assistant's bullpen. As I put my bag down on my desk, I looked around. I smiled at the fact that I could see and hear just about everything in the office from my central location. All of the offices of the executives were in earshot of the bullpen, with the exception of Pablo, who was sequestered in the back of the office with the rest of the HR staff, and Constance, who was off in another corner with my old personal assistant. Before I could sit down, the office manager called me over. I greeted Pia with a smile and a hello before I sat down with her. She went through the company's protocols and procedures with me. I nodded along as if it was all new to me, even though I had a hand in setting many of the rules that she was reading to me as if I was the tits for brains simpleton she assumed I was given my revealing top. Pia was her typical friendly self. She was a genuinely nice girl. More than a little heavy, she was severely obese and predated Pablo's hiring. Everyone liked her, but she never had any of the guys from the office going after her, which was all for the best from management's perspective. With my 'introduction' to the company finished, I went back to my desk to begin my job as the lowest ranking employee in the office. I quickly surmised that no one expected much of me. I was given the mindless repetitive tasks that the more skilled assistants knew were beneath them. As simple as my tasks were, they were always accompanied with highly detailed instructions from my superiors, who clearly shared Pia's perception that I was some brainless dolt with big tits that Pablo hired purely for his visual pleasure. I was all for the impression honestly. It kept the heat off me. I was able to do my little tasks while I kept my ears and eyes open looking for something to help prove that Constance was the scoundrel I knew her to be. The guys talked to me like they liked me. I forced myself to giggle like a schoolgirl at their corny attempts at humor and flattery. As much as I knew that their advances should sicken me, I found that it was really amusing. These guys thought they were so smooth. I'm sure I wasn't that bad at the art of a pickup since my junior high school days. None of them asked me out though, thank God. It was just harmless office flirting to help the day go by. Jason didn't see it that way. I could hear him in my mind shouting that I should spurn their advances and stand up for myself. Under the circumstances, I had to grin that he sounded like a feminist trying to deny a woman's natural role. Although it made that part of me uncomfortable, I was courting it with my low cut blouses and dresses that my tits practically spilled out of each day. The girls liked me too. I kept myself up to date on their frequent topics of conversation. I bashed men with them, even while I kept my real thoughts that they were all crazy to myself. I was one of the girls when I was in the office, and I wanted to make sure that that was all I ever was seen as by anyone. I did my tasks with eagerness that made my bosses take notice. They enjoyed my presence which helped put them all at ease around me. I hoped that someone would spill something about Constance, but, despite occasional complaints about her domineering personality and management style that betrayed her gender, nothing damaging or revealing was ever said. I shrugged at it as I tried to understand how she was able to hide what was she was doing from everyone. I had checked the system, but all the files that the employees were allowed access to still showed not a trace of wrongdoing. I knew that the only way to get to the bottom of it was to access the drive that only Constance and IT had access too. IT had changed the password when she took over, and I no longer had clearance to access the most sensitive files the company had. Accordingly, I made it a point to start to butter up the IT dorks with flattery, knowing glances, revealing bends and "home made" baked specialties. It wasn't long before I heard two of the nerds actually talking about one of them working up the nerve to ask me out. Still, I knew I had a long way to go before they were comfortable enough to slipup and let me get a hold of the records. In the meantime, I had to put my head down and keep working. I spent countless hours working at the copy machine, churning out copy after copy for the executives and the junior employees that were above such things. It was strange having to answer to people younger than me that really had no hope of ever moving much further up the ladder than they were already. I had to pretend to show them respect though, and I made sure that I did. At times, it was strange to think I really was Jason Simon, since he never would have showed the loyal dregs any kind of deference. I had been working for a few weeks when one of the executives laid into me for the first time. I was standing there, shaking in my heeled boots while he berated me for a good ten minutes. I was actually scared while I kept apologizing to him. He basically ordered me out of his office before I went back to my desk. I clutched my elbows as I walked with my head down, struggling not to cry. It was so strange to be on the receiving end of a tantrum. I had dealt out more than a few in my days as the boss, and I felt justified at the time, but I felt like shit being under the heel of that dick's oxfords. The girls whispered about what he had yelled. I talked with them while they let me know just what a dick they thought he was too. I was relieved that I was not the only one who felt that way about the jackass. His furor passed by the next day, and I went back to my normal routine at work. Everything was the same. I did the copying, faxed documents, wrote some short, unimportant correspondence, put away supplies when they came in and filled in for the receptionist when she was out to lunch. It was all normal stuff. The only curveball that came my way was the first quarterly shareholders meeting. The build up to it was normal. We did not do anything that I did not expect in preparing for it, but the meeting was held in the office. Pia went into the meeting, and I was left on call outside the door. I had conducted the meetings many times, but, now, I found myself on the outside, literally listening through the door when I was not tasked with fetching a major shareholder or an executive this or that like an errand girl. Pia poked her head out the door a number of times to ask me to bring pitchers of water, cups of coffee and documents into the meeting. Every time I did so, I looked around the room, trying to see if someone recognized me. Just like all the others though, they did not show any clues that they did. While I had a rapport with my underlings turned coworkers, I felt that I was basically invisible to the familiar faces of the shareholders that did not work for the company while I made my way through the meeting room. I went home that day, really understanding how different my life was. It had all been by my design, but not even getting as much as acknowledged by people that once deferred to me was almost too much to handle. I could handle the pain in my feet, the wedgies and itching from my pantyhose, the lustful leers, but not even being worthy of acknowledgment by lesser beings was something else. Still, I knew that I had to persevere. My father and grandfather had too much of themselves wrapped up in the company for me to surrender this easily. As the first few two months went by, I had built up a reservoir of good will with my coworkers. I was chatting with one of the IT guys in their office for a few minutes. He was checking me out as he normally did. He really had a thing for me. I had overheard him tell one of the guys that he was, finally, going to ask me out. The poor deluded fool said that I was the type of girl he dreamed about marrying. I could see him trying to find the words to move beyond our friendly rapport, but the wallflower could not find the nerve. His halting cowardice would have been kind of cute if it wasn't so pathetic. The text message on his cell phone made him jump to his feet and curse. Before I could ask what was wrong, he told me he was told to drop everything. As he hurried towards the door to address the executive's concerns, my first opportunity was left at my fingertips. He rushed out the door to respond to one of the executive's computer crash, leaving me alone in the room. The sweet nerd was so trusting of me, the poor, horny fool. I'm sure he didn't think his crush would do anything that would jeopardize her job or his, but he did not know why I was really there that morning dressed in a form fitting dress with a plunging neckline and black, sheer pantyhose. The opportunity to get the password was right in front of me. I looked over my shoulder before I took hold of his post-its and a pen and began to frantically search the computer. I knew that it was a risk. There was no guarantee I'd find the password or that I would not get caught, but I had not spent weeks dealing with lower back pain and screaming feet and calves to just look cute. I had not endured all flirting and girl talk just to chicken out and not carryout with my plan. I almost squealed when I got the password. I wrote it down before I pulled the post it off the pad and stuffed it into the right cup of my black lace bra. I hurried towards the door and peered out of it before I strolled down the hallway back towards my desk, hoping that no one from building security would alert my boss about what I had been doing in the IT room. I knew that as long as nothing was a miss, no one would check the security tapes. It was three weeks before I got my chance to use the information from IT. I saw a clear opening to my old office. I hurried into the darkened office and logged on using Constance's password. My eyes widened as I went through the minutia of what I had only seen the broad strokes of. I read as fast as I could, cursing the fact that I did not have longer as I downloaded files onto a flash drive. I was sure that there was a smoking gun there if I looked hard enough. There just had to be. My eyes scanned the screen, oblivious to the figure entering my former office. "Ahem," I heard a female voice utter. My eyes darted from the screen to the face of my former secretary, the very one that Constance had stolen from me. The girl glared at me before she asked, "What are you doing here, Beatriz?" "Just checking something for the boss," I replied, unable to keep from thinking, 'The rightful boss.' "I don't remember Constance asking you for anything," Paris countered, knowing that a girl in my position was beneath Constance's contempt. Girls like me simply didn't exist to my sister anymore. I panicked as I retorted, "You didn't remember to clear the meeting with the Rosewoods." She gave me a confused look as she said, "That's was months ago. You weren't even here then. How do you know that?" I shook my head before I said, "It's nothing." Paris moved towards me and looked me in the eye before she said, "And how did you know where all files on the system where? You don't seem to ask a lot of questions about how things work around here for a temp." "I'm a fast learner," I lied, starting to shake that Paris's keen eye for perception had picked up what everyone else had not. She gave me an inquisitive look before she grabbed hold of one of my father's awards. "Be careful with that," I shouted as Paris held the crystal award that was one of my father's prized possession. "What's it to you?" "It's very pretty," I replied as she put it down, giving my best attempt to come up with a reason for concern. She smiled as she turned back to me and said, as she did to me a thousand times before, "Jason, I was thinking..." "No," I instinctively cut her off as I always playfully did. Paris's eyes widened as she put her hands over her mouth. She struggled not to laugh before she closed the door to the office and said, "I knew it." "Know what?" I played, trying desperately to cast away her certainty that she had uncovered the undisclosed whereabouts of Jason Simon. I could imagine the press. My reputation was already in the toilet in the industry. If they found out I was snooping around my own company in panties, I was as good as dead! "You're Jason Simon," Paris said as she put her finger in my face. "Are you crazy?" "Oh, no. I know I'm not crazy now. I saw it. From time to time, you slipped into his walk. You had his facial expressions. That cringe that no one else has." "Do I look some guy to you?" Paris paused as she looked me over, "No, except you share his height and his shoe size and his hand size." My eyes widened as Paris inquired, "Are those brown contacts concealing his lovely blue eyes?" I shook my head, "No, you're mistaken." "Oh, I'm not mistaken. My God, what did they do to you?" Paris asked as she stroked my laser and moisturizer smoothened chin. My dick stirred in its prosthetic prison from the sensations of her fingertips. Her touch turned me on more than I could have imagined. It had been so long since I had a release, since my fake pussy had made that an impossibility. Even if Jason could break free and want to fuck her, there wasn't anything he could do about it with the telltale smoothness between my legs. Paris could read the conflicted arousal on my face and started to laugh. I gave her a horrified look before she collected herself and said, "Are you insane?" "I think we're all a little crazy," I replied. "Not certifiably crazy!" "I'm not crazy!" "You gave up your position and manhood to be a female secretary. That's crazy. Wait...oh, my God!" "What?" "You're not crazy!" "I'm not?" "No. You're a transsexual. That's why you never....How did I not see it?" "What? No. I'm not a transsexual." "Then, what is all this about, Jason?" Paris replied as she glared at me. I was silent as she reached for the phone and said, "Start talking before I have the police remove you from the building for stealing company property." It was over. My whole plan was destroyed. Jason's life was gone with it too. He could never show my face in the company, or polite society for that matter, again if I was perp walked out in a skirt. I could see the scandal on the society pages reading, 'Jason Simon with his hands in cuffs and his feet in heels.' My sister was just cruel enough to make sure that I would be thrown in with men in prison too. My stomach wrenched at the thought, since I knew what they would to do me if they could get a prison wife with my tits and ass. I had no choice but to throw myself on the mercy of Paris. "I thought Constance was trying to destroy the company," I said in a cracking, weak voice. I felt truly powerless for the first time in my life as I waited on Paris to decide my fate. I was separated from all my privileges I had been gifted with. Paris was stronger than me at that moment. It had to be just as strange for the shoe to be on the other foot for her. Paris gave me a queer look at my explanation before she said, "Why would she destroy her own company? She's as wrapped up in it as you ever were." "I don't think it's intentional. She's just not that bright." Paris gave me a sympathetic, and almost patronizing, look before she said, "I know your father never figured it out, but she not just a daddy's girl with a pretty face." "Look. I love my sister. I do. I'm angry about her taking my job, that's true, but I love her." Paris nodded as she said, "But you think she's in over her head?" "I'm just trying to protect the company and her and..." "Everyone here." I nodded my head. Paris hugged me as she logged me off Constance's computer, removed the flash drive and said, "She'll be back any minute." I gave her a blank look before she winked and said, "You can live to search another day, but you're not going to find anything." I thanked Paris, relieved that we had never had an adversarial relationship. She always seemed to think of highly of me, and I respected her work for me. She was not my type though. I liked my girls thinner, prettier and with a better shape. Paris was average in all regards, not ugly, not by a long shot. She was just not in my league, and I think she knew it. She never pushed herself on me. She knew the girls I went for. They threw themselves at me too. It was pointless for her to make a move for me. She couldn't compete with the knockouts of the world and she knew it too well. We walked out of the office together and went back to her desk. Paris kept looking over to me and forcing small talk. I obliged her. I felt like I had to keep her happy. She grinned as she suggested that we hangout after work that night. "I never thought I'd get that invite," I replied. Another one of the secretary's gave her a glance as she walked by before she said, "We've hung out before." "I just never thought I'd hear it from Miss Worker Bee," I countered, concealing my true meaning. The other secretary shrugged, knowing that neither Paris nor I was the chattiest of the girls despite the forced, plastic chipper personality I adopted. With that out of the way, we got back to working. Pia soon called me over into one of the executive's offices to help plug in a cable. I walked into the office and peered down at the crack between the desk and the wall. It was really tight. I looked at Pia before she handed me the plug to get down there. I shook my head before Pia told me that she needed my skinny, long arm to get the plug into the socket since we couldn't move the heavy desk. I nodded as I took the plug and got my arm down the side before I plugged in the cable. I was happy I got it before I tried to pull my arm out. I flinched as I tried to move my arm, but found I was stuck. Pia looked at me in disbelief for a moment before she tried to budge the desk a little to get me enough room to free myself. The executive walked into the room and started laughing before he tried to help move the desk. Still, it would not budge. He shrugged and groaned before he stood behind and bent over me as he tried to help me yank my arm from behind the desk. I felt his crotch pressing into my plump ass, which made my head spin a bit while we struggled to free my arm. By the time, we freed it, Pia was laughing, as were a few of my coworkers. They started to tease us about what they had seen before I excused myself and went over to my desk. The executive and I heard it for the rest of the day before I went out with Paris that evening. She teased me about it too, saying that I was ensuring that I stayed on beyond my upcoming three-month review, but we were able to hangout as friends. It was strange being there beside her, she noted it too. I laughed when she said that she never pictured me making such a great woman. I told that her that I was full of surprises before we had another drink together. "Full of something," she countered with a grin before she made me explain exactly how I had been transformed into the woman sitting beside her. After finishing whispering the details of my transition to her, Paris asked, "So, why are you flirting with guys?" I gave her a stunned look. I knew she had to know the answer. She knew that I was attracted to girls. I shook my head and said, "It's all part of the act." "Is it?" I gave her a blank look before she added, "Jason would never flirt with a guy. I mean, ever..." "It makes him sick." "Him?" "I don't consider myself Jason," I whispered. Paris could only shake her head at me, not understanding how I could separate myself from the man I had been. It was our defense mechanism to get him through this, but that was beyond her ability to grasp. I was uncomfortable with the topic, so I turned it on the real focus of my obsession. "So, how is working for my sister?" "As opposed to you, or should I say, Jason?" Paris countered with a smirk. I gave her a nod before she said, "She's competent, but she's forceful and very demanding..." "That's not very lady like." "And you would know?" Paris asked with a laugh. "I'm a much better girl than my sister," I countered. "Why's that?" "Because I know a girl's place," I explained. Paris gave me a look to let me to let me know that she did not appreciate the comment. It wasn't long after that before we headed to the subway together. We said goodnight before we parted as we went to catch different trains. The next day, I settled at my desk and got to work. I ran off copies when I got into the office before Pia ordered me to stand in for Paris since she was off doing an errand for her at a local event. My sister greeted me with indifference as I sat in Paris's seat for the first time. I directed a few calls for her, the way Paris did for me for years. After a half an hour in the seat, Constance called out for me to get her a coffee. I asked my sister how she wanted her coffee. She gave me a disdainful look as if I should know such things. Maybe she thought that Paris should have told me before she left. After a sigh, she told me how to prepare it for her. I went to the kitchenette with her order and made the cup up for her before I walked it back over to Constance. She smiled as she thanked me for it. That was more than I ever got from her since my return to the office, so I was almost happy for the acknowledgement. As I started towards the door, Constance said, "It's time for my morning foot rub." "What?" I asked, sure I had misheard her. There was no way that she could expect a professional to rub her feet. Constance shook her head and said, "Paris does this for me two times a day. If you're not willing to do it when she needs someone to fill in for her, we will find a girl who is willing to dedicate herself to her job." Constance's threats shook me. I was stunned. She really expected her secretary to rub her feet like some servant girl. To think that some had said that Jason Simon was a demanding boss! I would have killed to work for a man like him at that moment. At least, Jason had boundaries. Whatever was left of Jason's pride was drained from me as I bent down. My butt hovered barely off the floor as Constance slipped her right foot out of her shoe. I stared rubbing her foot. The nylon that covered it was slightly damp and had a smell to it. My mind raced as I kept rubbing her foot, waiting for some response while she continued to work, never bothering to cast a glance down at me. Jason shouted at me to stop. He bemoaned that I would let her bully me into submission. This was his idea though. I had to see it through, no matter how humiliating it was to be literally at Constance's feet. "Onto the next one," she ordered, stunning me in the process with her abruptness. I only nodded in response as she removed her foot from her left shoe. I went to rub it before she barked for me to put her right shoe back on. My hands trembled as I reached for her shoe and placed it onto her foot like she was some Cinderella princess. My hands moved onto her left foot. I went through the same rubbing motion on her foot. As I kept at it, the cramping in my calves and the ache in my knees became more pronounced. My legs startled to wobble. I feared that I was going to fall over as I was finding difficult to maintain my bent position. "That's enough," Constance said to my relief as I continued to rub her left foot. I hurried to slip her pump onto her foot, wanting to change the position of my legs as quickly as possible. I then got to my feet and felt my back wrench as I did so. Constance paid my pains no attention as I limped out of her office. I settled back in at Paris's desk and fielded a few more calls. Each time I lifted the phone, I smelt the scent of my sister's foot on my hands. It wasn't a terrible smell, but it certainly wasn't an attractive one either. As the midday came, Constance went out of lunch. Not long after, Paris returned to the office and let me know that my sister had a series of doctor's appointments that afternoon. I was concerned by that, but Paris explained that it was nothing more than preventative care, which was a relief to me. After she finished telling me all about my sister, Paris told me she would serve as my lookout while I went into Constance's office to search the system for what I was sure had to be there. I'm sure the indignities Constance must have forced on her played as big a part in her decision as her loyalty to me. Despite no evidence whatsoever, I was convinced that I was right. I logged on and began accessing the files. I searched for the facts backing up each of my sister's claims for the company's record profitability. No matter what I looked for, it was there in black and white. All that the records showed was above board conduct that was backed up by a paper trail evidencing where all the money was coming from. There was no doubt it was actually coming in either. She was not cooking the books. I was in shock. I could not believe how wrong I had been. I grabbed my head as I reconciled myself with the inescapable and unthinkable. She was better than me! Constance was better than my father for Christ's sake! I was sick to my stomach. My father had bet on the wrong horse in a big way. He should have bet on his favorite. Even he would have admitted it if he saw what I was looking at. Being consumed by winning the way he was, he likely would have raised me in skirts instead of my sister if he knew that she was going to have brains likes this. I think I heard him say once that she should have been born a man, and I couldn't get the thought out of my mind. He was so right. My comment to Paris came back to haunt me too. I knew it was true. I really was a better girl than my sister, but she was better at being a man. Even though she's biologically a woman, my parents had raised her to be the greater son. I logged off and hung my head. I was ashamed of myself. Mother herself could not have cheered me up if she was there. I could not remember when Constance beat me at anything, other than a report card comparison test here and there. We both played sports, but I was better. We fought like siblings often do, but, aside from the few shots I took to my balls, I always won the fights without much pain or effort. As much as my father loved and favored my sister, he never let on that she was better at me than anything, except in attitude and looks. I stood up and headed out of the office, knowing I would never spend another day behind my grandfather's desk as the boss again. The chances of me doing so were as dead and buried as he was. Paris saw my look of defeat as I snuck out of Constance's office and asked, "What's wrong?" "Absolutely nothing," I replied in utter, despairing disbelief. Paris whispered, "So, everything was the way it should be?" I nodded, realizing that I would likely never run the company again. She was simply better at it, at least as far as our cautious investo