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Glass Ceilings Belladonna I threw the earnings report down on my desktop. I wasn't angry about a word of it. It showed yet another robust quarter for my company. The bottom line would make even the greediest and most miserly capitalist grin, but it felt like a hollow victory. It was all too easy now. I pushed my chair away from my desk and stood up. I walked towards the window to reflect on my life while I stared out the window of my top floor office. The city lights shinned down on the cars that drove by several dozen stories below my office. The people looked like ants at my feet. It had not been long ago that I was as anonymous and insignificant as they appeared from 50 stories up. Stepping away from the window, I sat behind my desk again. Looking around the office suite of the building I had recently bought from a failing company to house the one that I had been building since I graduated college eight years earlier, I could only nod to myself. I knew I had met every goal I ever set when I started out, but I was 30 years old and married only to my job. The challenges that I encountered building the company from the ground up into a regional powerhouse were in the past. The struggles to pay my way through college were something I looked back at with a sense of satisfaction. I had come so far so quickly that I almost could not believe it. I had always thought I would feel fulfilled when I reached the top, but I felt nothing but a persistent longing instead. With a swivel of my chair, I cast my eyes back out the windows again. As I looked out at the rolling hills beyond the city limits, I knew that I had no more mountains to climb in my work life. I had reached the summit when most of my peers were still trying to sure up their footing. There was nowhere else to take my company. My struggles were over. I had more than enough to show for it, but it was the opportunity to face a challenge that drove me to get up every morning. I loved the fight, but all I had been doing the last year was shadowboxing with myself. "Mr. Dillon, do you need anything before I go?" My secretary called into my office. Although she was several decades my senior, the old girl insisted on calling me by my last name. "No. I'm good. Thank you," I replied, not wanting to be disturbed. Once she said goodnight, I reached into my desk. I pulled out a locked box before I turned the key and removed the only documents that intrigued me in the office. I placed the file on my desktop and read over the personnel documents once more. My eyes scanned the forms for the sixteenth time of April "Luke" Brevard. It was the papers of a 24-year-old worker in one of my warehouses. It was not the sort of thing that I typically looked at. I couldn't say I did it for anyone other than my top executives, but Luke was special. The papers bore the employment history of a young man who was born April Brevard. I had been on the lookout for just this person. It was that special type of person who had felt something similar to me. While I had wanted to be a girl as long as I could remember, I chose to live as a man. I was under no illusions that I could transition and achieve my life goals. I knew that the stigma of being a trans-woman would keep me from reaching the levels of success I had sought and found. Those cruel people didn't matter to me now. I could turn my back on my life's work anytime I wanted to. I could sell off my company and live the rest of my life as a rich trans-woman. I could have the life of a rich, do nothing trophy wife without the bother of a husband to sponge off. I would owe my wealth only to the bitter memory of the man nature had made of me, but there would be nothing for me to chase with that life. Luke was my way to the life I wanted. If I could assume the legal identity of a woman, the chance of breaking the glass ceiling as a woman would be there for me to embrace. It was the challenge I had longed for since I was a teenager. Luke Brevard seemed the perfect match for me. We are of a similar height, off by only an inch, which could easily be dismissed as an error by the person taking the measurement. Our builds were similar, broad and thick, but not fat. Luke had yet to transition, which I could only conclude was likely because Luke was not able to afford it. The legal identity I stared at still had the telltale F next to the gender. I was sure it mocked him just as much as the M next to my gender on my license mocked me every time I saw the painful reminder of what I could never escape. I knew then that I had to do it. I had to end this wretched existence. I reached for the phone and stared at the dial pad for a few seconds. The dial tone ceased, and I hung it up for a moment. Despite being confident in every endeavor I had undertaken, I felt knots in my stomach while I looked at the phone in silence. This wasn't a fantasy. This was my life I was planning to discard. Everything I worked for would be gone if I could convince Luke to go along with my plan. My little empire would be someone else's. I would have to see to the assets being sold off. I couldn't leave it to a warehouse worker to run. Luke wouldn't have the mind to handle the task. The lie I had been forced to live spit back at me as I saw the hair on my knuckles. I had to go through with it. After a few deep breaths, I picked up the phone again and raced to dial the number that Luke had provided the company before I lost my nerve again. "Hello," Luke answered on the first ring, not giving me the chance to reconsider. "Is this Luke Brevard?" I inquired after a short pause. "Yes," Luke replied tepidly. Looking back on it, I'm sure that the call from the company's headquarters put a scare into him. "Luke, this is Aidan Dillon," I announced. "Okay," Luke responded. I could sense the man's confusion as to how I knew him before I added, "I'm the owner and president of the company you work for." "Uh...," Luke responded to my claim to be the president of the company that he had worked for four months. "I heard about your condition, and I wanted to let you know that I might be willing to help you transition." "Uh...thank you," Luke responded, unsurprisingly baffled by the offer from a complete stranger. I could tell that Luke's confusion was only deepened by my claim before I asked, "Is there anywhere that I could meet you to discuss your situation further?" Luke replied with an address of a local diner near his workplace. I smiled while I took down the address before we agreed to meet that night once Luke got off his shift. "Holy shit," I muttered as my hands began to shake while I hung up. I trembled while I stared silently at the phone I had just used to speak with the person whose life I was proposing to purchase with everything I had worked for up to the moment I called him. It would all be his soon enough. I wondered what Luke could possibly think of my plan. Even I thought it was crazy. It might sound even crazier to speak such a thing to someone else. I got to my feet. I gave my oxfords a shake of my head while familiar feelings of disgust overwhelmed me about how I had to present myself. The utilitarian shoes did help me make a quick exit while I rushed for the door. I left my office and headed to the underground parking garage. I approached the reserved spot for my car that was right beside the exit. I opened the door to the sports car and stepped inside. I approached the garage doors and waited for them to open as I wondered how crazy my drive to find a challenge had made me. I shook my head at the thought while I started to drive to the diner. I was not crazy. I was never surer that the moment was right to make the change. I needed to stop living the lie that I was a man and start living the lie that I had been born a girl, as I know I should have been. Old jealousies rose up within me as I made the drive in silence. All those conversations and giggling the girls did in school. I could never be a part of it no matter how much I wanted to be one of the girls. The stories of the girls having slumber parties and recitals and bitter memories of the girls always getting gushed over for being so pretty in their dresses went through my mind. I wondered if Luke had similar painful jealousies about what it must have been like to grow up a guy. He probably would have loved my sports camps, farting and belching contests and the occasional fistfight. That thought stayed with me while I parked outside of the diner. I stared into the glass windows as I waited for Luke to arrive at the place. "Nothing is going to be the same," I told myself. I knew that once I said the words, it would be out there. Someone else would know that Aidan Dillon wanted to be one of the girls. It was so at odds with the perception that others had of me. So many of my competitors and admirers referred to me as a shark. They thought that I saw blood and pounced. In their eyes, I was a ruthless savage. There was some truth to that. A lot of it was simple overcompensating for what was inside me. If I wanted to be a girl on the inside, I figured I had to be twice the guy on the outside to hide her from an unsympathetic world. What would my competitors and admirers think if they knew I would cast off my oxfords for cute ballet flats in an instant? In truth, I knew the answer. It was perfectly obvious. That answer kept repeating itself in my mind as I gazed vacantly at the diner. After a few minutes, I could not stomach being along with those thoughts anymore. I searched through my phone for emails to answer and sort through to focus my mind on something else. Once that was over with, I reached for my car door handle. My fingers wavered while I thought about what I was doing. Deciding I was only making it worse for myself, I closed my eyes and threw my car door open, nearly striking another car in the process. I flinched at what I had almost done. The reckless act seemed like a warning to me. I could not give away my life with my eyes closed, but I felt like they had never been more open. I walked into the diner, trying to keep my mind off what Luke's reaction would be. I took a seat at a table. I situated myself so that I could face the door. As each man walked through the front door of the diner, I examined his face to see if it was Luke. Finally, a few minutes after we agreed to meet, I saw the face that matched the picture in his personnel records. "Luke," I called out in a loud tone I instantly regretted. Luke's eyes darted towards me and grew large. I was certain he recognized my face, sure that he had found a picture of me online on the company website or in one of the many news articles that had been run about me in the local papers. Luke approached me with hesitant steps. I grinned at the man's nervousness. I was sure that Luke figured that he was on the receiving end of a cruel joke by a billionaire with idle hands while I told him to take a seat. We ordered a meal and a drink before I inquired about his job. Luke told me all about the work he did for my company. I could not care less about the details. They were tedious and the kind of manual labor that I had no interest in doing myself. Still, I nodded politely while I listened to the standard details of warehouse work before I described my job. I could see the amazement on Luke's face while I detailed the various details of my job, the meetings, soliciting, marketing and business discussions. Luke shook his head while he inquired, "Why are you telling me all this?" "Just sharing," I replied while I took a sip of my drink before our food was dropped off. I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him the truth. Once I did, this wouldn't be a game anymore. It wouldn't be a fantasy. The offer would be out there for him to accept. If he didn't, who'd believe him that the offer was made. If he did, God, what if he did? I could never go back out of it. I couldn't play so cavalierly with his life in the name of my fantasy. As we started to eat, I struggled to find the will to ask a simple question, "So, when did you know that you wanted to be a man?" "I think I was three." "Me too," I replied. Luke gave my response a curious look before he dryly noted, "It was probably a little easier for you..." "No. I meant be a girl," I replied, cutting Luke off. I felt like the weight of the world had come off my shoulders when I spoke those words for the first time to another person. I had suffered in silence, but, now, my secret wasn't a secret. For the first time, someone else knew. It was liberating to say it aloud. I wanted to shout "I'M A GIRL" to anyone who would listen, but it wasn't the right moment. That was a moment that would never come. Luke gave me a vacant look. He appeared stunned. "You want to be a girl?" Luke inquired with raised eyebrows ending the brief silence that had come between us. I nodded before adding, "But I never told anyone." "Smart move. I should have kept my mouth shut and just up and done it. I would have saved myself a lot of abuse." "What happened?" I asked, horrified by his response, even though I was anything but shocked by it. "My family completely disowned me." "I'm sorry..." "It is what is. Looking back on it, I should have just up and disappeared and not let them know." "Did they try..." "Oh, they tried to dissuade me. They sent me to counseling. The shrinks told me that I was crazy and that women can't become men, so I had to deal with my body. The priests told me that I was a sinner and was going to straight to hell. It was a whole lot of fun!" "That's sounds like hell..." "It wasn't quite that bad, but it drove me to want to check out." "Check out?" "Check out," Luke repeated as I began to understand his point. "You shouldn't have to feel that way," I replied. I had felt the same way, but I never had anyone calling me crazy to feel the way I did. I knew what I was. I didn't need someone else telling me that I'm not what I am. I know what's between my legs. I didn't ask for it. I would have chopped it off myself if I could have done it safely. "I feel the same way, but I think you know that that's the way it is as well as I do." I nodded in silence. I hung my head before I admitted the truth, "That's why I hid it at all costs." "You played the part," Luke replied with a nod. "I was an athlete. I did male things...." "Mom and Dad tried to get me to do girly things." "Like what?" I asked with a laugh. "Ballet, gymnastics, cheerleading, really anything that screamed you're a girl. This is what you're supposed to be doing." "Sounds like a dream...," I responded in a wistful tone. My jealousies of the girls at my school consumed me at night when I was going to bed growing up. I would pray to God to wake up and be cured of my masculinity. That somehow prayers could make me just like them. At other times, I settled for praying to at least have a dream where I could be like them. Prayers are like wishes though. "To you, maybe," Luke replied with a laugh at my statement. "You didn't like any of it?" "The competitive part of me like the gymnastics and, believe it or not, I was actually a really good dancer, but it was not who I was at all." "You weren't about the cheer hair?" "My mother blew up the photographs of me with big curls and big bows and hung them up around the house like I was her golden child," Luke replied with a laugh before the smile left his face while he added, "She was so deluded." "Doing girl things didn't cure you?" I replied with sarcasm. "Funny, how that didn't work out, right?" Luke responded, reciprocating my tone. I laughed before our meals were served. Once we started to eat, the reason we were there returned to me. I wasn't there to make small talk with him. I wasn't there to share war stories. I sure as hell wasn't there for the salad I ordered! I was there because this had to end. I stared at him intently. Luke eyes rose to meet mine. He looked so uncomfortable sitting across from the boss of every boss he had who was spilling his soul to him, whether he liked it or not. I put down my fork as I found the nerve to ask, "Have you ever thought about starting over?" "Everyday," Luke admitted before he went back to eating his burger. "Me too." "What did you do wrong?" Luke inquired while he pointed to the Cartier watch on my wrist. "I'm not the person I want to be." Luke nodded, seeming to understand my sentiment without a word of further explanation. I smiled at Luke as I asked, "Would you like my life?" "Come on, I'd kill for it." "Would you give up yours for it?" I asked, raising my eyes to meet Luke's. Luke gave me an inquisitive look before I clarified, "Would you become Aidan Dillon, if you had to give up your past?" "I can't just give up my past..." "I'll trade you for it," I countered, letting a smirk come across my face. Luke looked dumbstruck while I continued to eat before I explained, "I need a girl's past." "For what?" Luke inquired. "To start over as a real woman," I answered. "Why would you want to..." "I've accomplished everything I can as a man. I want to do it again in the body that I belong in." Luke leaned back as he put his right hand over his bound breasts for a moment. Luke stared around the diner for a moment before he asked, "Are you being serious?" I was silent for a moment that seemed like an eternity. Luke just stared at me in stunned silence before I nodded. I then leaned onto the table and made my best offer, "I'm offering to pay for your transition. As part of the deal, you're going to be made to look like me, and I'm going to be made to look like you did before you, you know..." "You're going to try to become the girl I was until I was 18?" Luke asked for clarification. "Exactly." "But I can't just take up your life and you can't..." "With enough money, anything is possible. I'm going to have a fortune when I sell my company. If you take my life, you'll have nothing binding you to my old life, except my legal identity. You can go start anew somewhere else. You can start your own company, go work for someone or just sit around as a retired young man." "And you..." "I'll be a typical 24 year old girl trying to make her way in the world." "With a license reading April Brevard...," Luke said. I nodded as I added, "With the F, not the M." "I'm going to have to think this over." "Take all the time you need." Luke nodded. I could sense his heart racing. He shook his head at his initial hesitation before he said, "I'll do it." "Well, that was fast!" "I don't want you to reconsider," Luke replied half jokingly. "There are no second thoughts here," I lied, almost distraught that he did not give me chance to remind myself of what a fool I was being. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- While Luke left the diner doubting I would follow through on my promise, my swift sale of my company to a major international company brought the reality home to him quickly. I was desperate to pickup the life that Luke had left behind for good. Luke resigned from his job soon after I made the first arrangements for our surgical transformations to begin. We were each excited about the prospects of becoming the people we wanted to finally be, but we were nervous about what it meant. We left our home country together, knowing that we would return as very different people than when we left. Luke struggled with the feminine makeover I forced on him to obtain a new passport photograph before the trip. The makeup seemed to make a mockery of what he had been fighting against being his whole life. Still, he forced himself to go along with it in light of the end game. He almost looked good with the bust filled blouse, extensions and makeup. I could see the potential for a pretty girl in him that his mother had seen. I could not help but feel jealous of what he had been. He was an absolute waste of femininity, but that part of him was mine for the taking now. Before we flew off, we made our way to a clinic to have his eggs and my sperm frozen in case either of us ever wanted a biological child. It seemed so odd to know that I would never be able to carry the baby that I created. I would be a father to a surrogate mother who would carry it for me to be the mother. I had trouble wrapping my head around the scenario to be truthful. I was certain that I would probably adopt if I did anything. I was sure I wouldn't want any reminders of what I had been like sperm once I was free from this errant guise. Still, I didn't want any regrets. I looked down at my dick and began to masturbate as I thought about being rid of it. It repulsed me every time I saw it. I had done my best to try to accept it. I had slept with women with it, but I spent every moment I was with them fantasizing that I was them instead. I wanted their dick inside of my pussy not the other way around. At the time, I wondered if I was gay, but I could only see myself with a man if I was a woman. As crazy as it sounds, it just didn't seem natural any other way. With the sperm in the cup, I was happy to cover my biological abortion up. I felt dirty when I handed the sperm away to be frozen. The worker was professionally polite in response before I slinked out of the clinic feeling like a pervert. It was not long after that Luke and I got on the plane together and flew first class to Thailand. We posed as a couple for my own sanity more than anything else. It's not exactly great to be a guy flying to Thailand alone. Everyone thinks they know exactly what detestable thing you're going there for. Once we were finished, however, I would never have to deal with those kinds of errant assumptions again. "April" looked more than presentable as "she" got on the plane wearing a rather plain outfit. Even though its femininity was modest at best, I could sense that Luke wanted to rip it off as soon as he could, just like the long hair he could not wait to be free from again. Once we landed, we made our way to the hospital I was paying far more than the average medical tourist that came in for a sex change was able to pay. It was all about getting us ready for the transition that was going to be expedited as much as possible. Luke's process was easier since he had already been on hormones for years. The first surgery he had removed his breasts, while I was given hormones to start with. The doctors would not let me get a surgery right away. They wanted to give me a little time to think it over as the testosterone blockers and estrogen slowly shriveled away my testicles that I could not wait to dispose of. The time we spent waiting for the surgeries was spent traveling around the country as two male tourists. Luke had ditched his long hair with his breasts. He was living as a man again and embraced it as there were few people who could sense that he had been born a woman. I envied him. I was still too far away from being a woman to pass while we traveled despite the laser hair removal that had eliminated all traces of my beard. I left the tourist scene to Luke to travel back to the hospital for my castration. The doctor told me that there was no going back. The loss of functionality of my penis in the interim, however, had disabused me of that possibility anyway. I was never going to be a man again, at least not the man I had been. That was a fate that I was more than happy to accept too. I had never been more at peace with my decision. The doctors half jokingly called it the "brain effect" from the estrogen rushing to my brain. Before they did the surgery, however, they discontinued my hormones. Thankfully, my decimated testicles weren't up to the task of producing much testosterone while I waited for the surgery. Still, doubts reemerged as the date drew nearer. The withered reminders of what I had already done told me that I had no choice now. I had to go through with it. God, I wanted to be able to watch the doctors cut them off, but they insisted on putting me out. I still wonder if they thought I would do a celebratory fist pump when they were finally removed. Once I was released, I walked out of the hospital wearing a dress for the first time. I was living as a woman even as I was stuck wearing falsies and a face that was much too masculine to pass off as truly female. Despite that, I noticed that there seemed to be fewer stigmas about what I was in Thailand than back home. I can only guess that it?s a cultural thing, but, my God, it is such a wonderful thing. The day of THE SURGERY came quickly enough, but it felt like a lifetime as I waited for it. I was wheeled into that cold operating room, feeling ready to start a new life. It wasn't long before I was put out. The doctors did what they had to do to me. It was just the opposite of what they had already done to Luke. With each peace of his womanhood he surrendered, the more free he seemed. I could only wish that I woke up feeling as free as Luke did. When I came to, it was all a blur. I could sense the absence of the thing that had been mocking me my whole life. I started to laugh while I looked around the room. I was finally me. There would be no more tucking and taping it away when I stole private moments to stroll around my home in skirts and heels. That was over. I WAS A GIRL, not just in mind, but in body too. For the first time in my life, I felt free. I wanted to show the world what I was for the first time in my life. The need for further surgeries, however, put that just out of my immediate reach. The plastic surgeries I underwent to feminize myself were extensive over the following months. Using old photographs of the girl Luke had been and the contours of his face, my own was nipped and restructured. My eyes and nose were reshaped, my brows raised and my chin reduced, while my hairline was moved and supplemented at the edges. A tracheal shaving and breast implants finished up my litany of surgeries before I was allowed to go back on my estrogen. The recovery was, relatively, short, but it was pretty painful and my body knew it had been through a serious trauma. I took it easy. Luke did so too as he dealt with the surgeries he had undergone. The only thing he had left to do was create a penis, but the doctors told him that they could not even attempt it until a year had passed from the surgeries they did to remove his female organs. I couldn't even think what had to be going through Luke's mind. He was a step away from the body he wanted, but it was the most important step. It had to be torture to be finally so close, but know that you couldn't have what you wanted for another year. While we finished our recoveries, we went back on vacation. We traveled around the country as a man and woman. People often mistook us for a couple again to our amusement; however, there was also a bit of discomfort between us. We were the spitting image of what each other had been, not quite exactly the same, but within a hair's breadth of it. I looked at Luke with some discomfort as I struggled to call him by my old name. For his part, Luke seemed to be even more uncomfortable calling me April, the name he had fought so hard to escape. I could see the sadness in his eyes when he looked at me, looking just like he had when he had been forced to keep his hair long, wear makeup and pretend to be the girl his family expected him to be. My presence brought up bad memories about what he was forced to do, just as his face reminded me of all those wasted years as a man that I could never forget nor get back. We were two people with an unusual view from the outside of the fa?ade of the prisons that we had longed to escape. When we were apart, however, we had to deal with the new realities of our bodies. For me, that meant that dilating myself. It was the closest thing I could do to masturbating at first. Three times a day, I had to stick a nine-inch dilator into my new pussy. I couldn't just leave it in there. I had to apply pressure to keep it from losing depth. It was unpleasant to say the least, but I was told that I would eventually be able to cut it down to a few times a week instead of three times a day. Once the doctor's cleared me after a follow up visit, I moved towards embracing my unexplored womanhood much more. I had long dreamed of masturbating like a woman when I was a man shamefully yanking on my dick, while hoping it would fall off. I hoped that the self-hatred I felt after every cum would be absent this time. It had to be. It was a clumsy affair while I reached between my legs and explored the vagina walls that had been created by my team of doctors. As I struggled with doubts that I was doing it right, I wondered if girls that were born in the right bodies had the same troubles or doubts. I tried different tactics to stimulate myself. I was self conscious wondering what someone would think if they burst through the hotel door to find a new girl going to town on herself. It was mortifying. It somehow seemed worse than being a man caught in the act. Maybe I just expect it more from men, but not from girls. The thoughts did nothing to aid me in my attempts to embrace what I was doing. I pushed my hand away from myself before I reached for a vibrator. It felt weird in my hands while it started to vibrate. I wondered how strange it would feel inside me. It was definitely strange as I inserted it into my dilated pussy. It felt good though. I tried to focus on the feeling and not the telltale sound that would give away what I was doing to anyone who stumbled upon me. Although it took some doing, I got lost in the moment. The fantasy of a man taking me for the first time was well sketched out in my mind while I worked the vibrator in and out of myself. I could finally be the girl beneath the boy that I had wanted to be when I had been looking down at the girls, desperately trying to convince myself that I could go on as a man. I felt it building. I hastened my efforts wanting to get that moment. To have reached that final step of having my sex aligned with my brain. I needed it. It came with bursts. I moaned and breathed hard as I felt it. It felt better than anything I had ever experienced in my life. It was longer than I imagined, but it was still fleeting, as all good things are. As the ecstasy of the moment dissipated, I fumbled with the vibrator while I struggled to turn it off. I could sense that I was blushing with embarrassment, even though I was the only person in the room and I had no idea if anyone could hear what I had done through the walls. The thought that they could was mortifying while I rolled over in the bed and started to cry. I thought of everything that had brought me to this moment. It was all over. I felt whole for the first time. With our transitions complete, we were each excited about the prospect of returning home. Luke was returning as the man he wanted to be, even if the name Aidan Dillon was not one he ever would have chosen for himself. The face he had matched the image on the license and passport to his name. The documents were his and provided every indication that he was the man he had longed to be. Luke told me he was unsure what he was going to do with his newfound wealth, but he was sure he was going to be far happier now that he was a man. I, conversely, knew exactly what I was going to do. My whole life I had been dreaming of this moment. I had inherited Luke's limited bank account, and one that was surely going to be taxed by a lifetime of hormone treatments, but I had amassed a new wardrobe during the parts of the trip when we were vacationing. Every skirt, dress, blouse, pair of shoes or bag I wanted, I purchased unthinkingly. The money I spent was nothing in comparison to the amount that the Luke was assuming, and he certainly was onboard with me embracing the life he wanted nothing more than to disown and forget. I was primed to return home a young lady ready to take on the world. I was going to assert myself as every inch the girl my paperwork and recent work history told everyone I was. I might have been back on the bottom, a place that Aidan Dillon had not seen in nearly a decade, but I was ready to fight again. I was ready to begin my life anew and see if I could make it back to the top in heels and panties. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Going back home still filled us both with fear. "Aidan" told me that he feared that entering our home country would be the most difficult aspect of our return to our new lives. We each handed over our identification afraid that the security staff would see something in our pictures that was not quite exact to the face they were matching it too. Going through the full body scanners scared the hell out of me. I was sure that something was going to give away that they were not the people I had spent a small fortune turning us into. Hell, replacement Aidan was literally dickless! The security staff, however, merely waved us through as if we were no different from any other foreigners. The flights were filled with a lot less tension than the ones we took to Thailand. We were much more at ease with ourselves. There was no point in there being anything else but at ease with it. It was done and there was no going back to the people we had been so eager to move on from. Soon enough, we were walking out of the airport. It wasn't magical. There was no body swap, but it was as close as humanly possible. To everyone we would ever meet again, my companion was Aidan Dillon and I was April Brevard. I kissed Aidan goodbye while he was picked up in a limo to take him to his life of newly acquired wealth before I hailed a cab to take me to my new apartment. I had rented it with the small stipend I had put away for myself to allow myself time to find a job with my new identity. I was optimistic about it, but I figured it would take some time. I was still eager to work and had a work history that showed steady employment from 16 to the months I had just spent abroad. Even then, I had managed to pay an employer in Thailand to list me as an active employee, working as an office girl. A smile came to my face when I came across an entry-level job listing at the company that I had founded and that the man who kept my new life warm for me had worked for when this whole thing started. I applied without a second thought, sending my updated resume out to the company. I got a call within two days for an interview with the company as a former employee in good standing. I was excited about the prospect of returning to my old company, even though I was aware that they were only going to see me as a former warehouse employee and not the Chief Executive that they all had feared when I was forced to wear oxfords by expectations and circumstances. As the day of my interview came, I put on the best suit I had purchased abroad. It was a simple skirt suit that I paired with a pair of black, sheer pantyhose. I completed the outfit with a pair of black heels and understated jewelry. I wanted to look good for the interview, but I did not want appear as if I was trying to make more of myself than I was. Reentering the corporate office building that I had selected to house the company's headquarters was strange. When I came home, I figured that I would find a job elsewhere and start fresh. The opportunity to return to my old stomping grounds and see if I could make my way up the new hierarchy, however, was too intriguing a challenge to pass up. I smiled at the familiar surroundings that I had to pretend were all new to me. I greeted the familiar security guard and signed in as a guest. The stout man, who had shown deference to me as Aidan Dillon, greeted me with polite indifference. After placing the pen down, I moved towards the elevator. I got onto it with a crowd of familiar faces that should no hint that they could recognize mine any longer. I exited the elevator and made my way to the door to the lowest offices of the three floors that the company took up. It was where human resources office was headquartered, as well as all the lowest ranking executives. The receptionist whose name I never bothered to learn looked up at me while I entered the office I had rarely found myself walking into as the boss. When I ruled the place, everyone came to me, and I had errand girls to fetch people from this floor. Those days were over now, at least for the time being. "Can I help you?" The middle-aged woman inquired. I nodded as I told the receptionist my name and that I had an appointment to meet with the company's Human Resources' director. The receptionist acknowledged me politely before she called the Human Resources' director and confirmed my appointment. The receptionist told me to take a seat to wait until the woman was ready to meet me. That was another reality check. The office did not revolve around my schedule anymore. My presence would only be addressed when they found the time to do so. I nodded to myself while I took a seat in the waiting area and reminded myself that I had chosen this. A smile came to my face as I thought about how quickly the Human Resources' director would have come to see me if I was still Aidan Dillon. The mere statement of my name would have made the girl jump to her to feet to greet me, but I wasn't him anymore. I never wanted to be him. I was what I wanted to be. The wait served as a reminder that the days of power were far removed from my painted fingertips. They were gone now, perhaps forever. That was the challenge, however, that I had been so eager to embrace. After 20 minutes, the Human Resources director opened the door and greeted me. I shook her hand before I was led inside to her office. The girl sat down behind her desk while I took a seat on the lightly cushioned guest chair that was unlike anything I had sat on in an office in many years. The girl smiled as she looked over my resume and said with raised eyebrows, "I was very surprised to see that you were an applicant to be an administrative assistant." "A girl's got to make a living," I replied with a smile. "It's just strange. You worked here before, but not in our corporate office." "That was a different time." "You don't really look like a warehouse worker." "I was heavier then," I replied truthfully. "I wouldn't think that you would be right for that job." "I was at the time, but I'm a different place now," I replied in my practiced calm, but perky tone. "We got great reviews from your former supervisors, but they were shocked that you wanted this job. You almost don't match their descriptions, but your face matches your old corporate ID, but not the hair," the girl remarked with a laugh. "I was a little more than tomboyish back then." "You don't look it now." "I'm happier with myself now," I admitted. "Now, it says that you've been working as an administrative assistant for a few months in Thailand. That sound's interesting...," the girl replied with wide eyes and a smile. "Yes, that's correct. I was there for a few months. It was really life changing." "How did you ever end up over there?" "I had a friend that got a job there. He knew that I wanted to change career paths, so he put in a good word for me and I, kind of, followed him over there with him." "Oh, he was a male friend?" The secretary said with raised eyebrows and a smirk. "He was just a friend," I replied with a smile and a tilt of my head before I laughed a little. "I see. Your old boss gave you a great review too. He said that you were an excellent typist." "140 words a minute," I responded with confidence. "That's good to know. I wouldn't have guessed from your earlier work." "Well, he was surprised too." "Can you give me a demonstration?" The girl asked. "Absolutely," I answered while I got up and sat down at the seat the Human Resources' director vacated. After quickly demonstrating my typing skills, the Human Resources' director made me an offer given my positive work experience for the company and recommendation. I accepted without any reservations, even though I knew that the money that they were going to pay me was meager by comparison to what I had been accustomed to as Aidan Dillon. It was even less than Luke had been making in the warehouse. The Human Resources' director then shook my hand before she saw me out. I walked out of the building, signing out before I did so. I then went to the bus stop and waited for the bus to come. I had never left the building in anything other than my sports car or a limo. Now, I was leaving in as the least ceremonious method of transportation known to mankind. There were other people waiting when I got to the bus stop. Some were cleaners; others looked homeless, while a few professionally attired young men and women were on the bus when I got on. It had been so long since I had been in such close proximity with a vast array of so many different people. The familiar odors I recalled from my younger days made my nose turn more than I remembered. They were all silent just as I was while I sat down. I wondered if they all felt as humble as I did about having to ride the bus. I got off at a stop and made a transfer to another bus that took me to the stop near my apartment. The walk back towards the apartment was unremarkable. Walking up the steps to my apartment building, I was thinking about what was in store for me at work. I was going to being doing things that were far below my abilities, but that was something that only I thought was true. As far as everyone else was concerned, I had reached my potential. After stepping into my small studio apartment, I went over to the kitchenette and ate a yogurt for lunch. It was hardly a filling lunch, but I was conscious of the need to keep my figure slim as my tight, new clothing showed a little weight gain far more than my old suits ever did. Other than my eating habits, my home life was not much different than it had been when I was just starting out as a man. I cleaned up after myself, I made a few meals, I spent hours scouring the internet and reading and occasionally watched the television and, all too familiarly, I was utterly alone. If it was not for the different feeling of my clothing, sensations of my tied back hair, change in my center of gravity and bathroom habits, it would have been like going back in time. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The night before my first day at work was restless. I was eager to get to back to work and show them what I could do. I knew that it was going to be a long hard climb back up the ladder, but I had done it once before. I knew that I could do it again. I had new ideas. I just needed the money and chance to get them off the ground. Once I got up, I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I made sure every trace of body hair was gone from my body before I toweled off and started to dress. I had been training for this moment for months. I had been fantasizing about it for decades. I was going to be heading to work as a girl. That is what everyone saw when I walked down the street and what everyone thought I was at the office. It was freeing to know that I was finally what I felt that I always should have been. That feeling was hard to shake while I pulled on my panties. The allure that they held for me was still strong. I loved the sensations climbing my legs before I worked my feet into a pair of pantyhose. Despite my daily practice of dry runs to make sure that I was ready for the moment, I still enjoyed the feeling that had become a daily sensation. I wondered if I could ever get used to it and stop loving it, but it was a hard to think that I could at that moment. It was simply too wondrous and luxurious a feeling to become ho-hum. The dry runs, however, had gotten me into the habit of fighting past lingering on the enjoyment of the sensations. So, once they were up my legs, I reached for my bra. After I slipped my arms through the straps, I clasped the closures in front of my breasts and went into my bedroom. I loved walking through my apartment in my bra and panties. Every inch of me looked right in them. It looked like I had dreamed it all could when I used to close my eyes and fantasize about what I should have been looking down at each day. I went and took hold of a knee length, black pencil skirt for my first day. It was something that I had always wanted to wear to work. I stepped into my skirt and brought it up to my waist before I reached for an aqua blue, cable knit sweater. I knew that my building was usually a little cold, no matter the time of year. Once my top was on, I went into the bathroom to fix up my hair. I had not washed it that morning, having washed it the night before. I counted my blessings that I was lucky to have straight hair while I brushed it out before I turned to doing my makeup. I did it with ease and in the period of time I allotted for myself to accomplish the task. With the hair and makeup done, I went to get my coat, shoes and purse. Once I put my black pumps and a black wool coat on, I slung my bag onto my shoulder and started out the door. Walking down the stairs in heels was still a challenge, but I was already pulling it off without incident. After stepping out the front door of my building, I felt a blast of cold wind upon my face. I cringed at the feeling. My teeth chattered from it while I made my way to the bus stop. I could see a small group of other people waiting for the bus. Most were clearly immigrants. Once I got on the bus, I noticed that there were few professionally dressed people again. Although I immediately stuck out from most of the riders, I was not the only one. I smiled at another professionally dressed young girl who gave me a compliment about my outfit. I reciprocated in kind before I found a seat. As I sat in the bus, I noticed that the girl was not wearing heels. I wondered why. She was wearing plain black flats instead. It would take me no more than a day in heels before I had a pair just like them. Taking a different route than the day before, I got off the bus and went into a train station and waited for my train to come. I had planned the whole thing out in my head and the train was only ten minutes late, which was better than I anticipated. The ride to my stop was largely unexceptional. I tried to relax and think about what was in store for me for my first day at work. Most other people were reading papers or e-books or listening to music. Nobody was bothering with anyone else. Once the train reached my stop, I started walking to my office. I had never walked there in my life. I had driven there to my reserved spot. I could not afford a car yet, so that option was foreclosed at the moment. Given other expenditures I was going to need to move back up the ladder, a cheap Japanese car was probably years off, let alone a luxury sports car. It took a bit of time to make the walk there. I looked around noticed that I was in a distinct minority of women wearing heels that morning. It was clear that most all knew something I did not. I arrived at the office early for my first day by design. Since I did not have a security pass yet, I had to sign in as a visitor again. The guard took down my information from my license. The guard was a man I had seen many times in the building. He looked at my license and my face and did not see any trace of the man he once deferred to. I was happy enough with that accomplishment as I went to wait for the elevator. I forced my way onto one with a group of others before we rode it up together. I found that I was the first assistant in the office that day not long after I walked through reception. A few of the other workers were in the office however. I went around introducing myself to my new coworkers. They were people I never paid any attention to during my time running the company. They were essentially new faces because they were so far beneath me and had come on years after I had become removed from the day-to-day reality of their tasks. I did not go down to the lower floors for any reason. I had people for that. I smiled at the thought that I now was one of those people. The staff showed no hints of knowing who I was or who I had been. I was truly passing myself off as April. I was legally her. Now, I was professionally her. It was only at a genetic level that I was not fully April. The office manager was the first of the other assistants to show up. Courtney lumbered towards me. She was at eye level with me, but mine were drawn to her E Cup breasts that were difficult to conceal beneath the top that stretched over her heavy frame. Courtney greeted me with a warm smile. She was an outgoing, social butterfly who would not stop talking. The people working in the offices that surrounded us all seemed to love her though. I was hoping that all the girls would be like her, but as they filed in and I got to meet my fellow office staff, I realized that Courtney was the exception. Zanna, Gwen, Raquel and Mary were not nearly as personable as Courtney. They each greeted me with a smile, but they are not as genuine her. Zanna works as the receptionist on the floor. She is all of 4'8" with a slightly distended stomach. Her voice bears the slightest hint of the accent of her home country that she had left as a child. The girl is a few years older than me and a single mother. She dates a rather unexceptional looking man that I heard nearly as much about as her cute daughter with her ex-husband. Gwen is a few years older than Zanna and about the same height as Courtney and I. She's nearly as loquacious as Courtney is, but she lacks her general good nature. While Gwen can be funny, she snaps with the slightest provocation. She never stops being loud whether she's being funny or mean-spirited. It took me only a week to start to fear interacting with the girl who was sitting only ten feet from me. Mary is short and round. Severely obese, the girl struggles to move around and get up. The girl is nearly 40 and a single mother of a young son that she lacks the energy to follow after when she picks him up each the evening. Hers is the face of constant exhaustion. While she is moody, she's not nearly as bipolar as Gwen. She also lacks the layer of malice that Gwen demonstrates. Raquel was the other assistant I was seated by in the office. She is the same age as the one shown on my license. She is a constant bitch, although, amongst us girls, she is the treat for the male eyes in the office. She has a thin body and large, perky breasts that Gwen let spill were purchased about year after Raquel started working for the company. The augmented rack seemed to give the girl confidence. She never stopped bragging about her banker boyfriend she started dating after the cosmetic surgery. It was as if she was throwing him in the faces of the rest of us. Zanna's boyfriend was a warehouse worker, while Gwen's husband was a Super Market manager. Mary, Courtney and I did not have a steady boyfriend, although it was not for lack of trying on Mary's part. The girls all tolerated Raquel though. She was one of them, even though she tried to hold herself out as if she was a step above the rest of us girls. Courtney, however, is not one of the girls. Gwen and her are often at loggerheads, and Gwen is the chief spreader of gossip about Courtney. The other girls eat it up. Gwen is their ringleader, while Courtney is simply too tight with the bosses for them to consider one of them. I could see that Courtney chaffed at being somewhat ostracized from the other assistants. I tried my best to fit in amongst the girls, but even from the start, I knew it was going to be an uphill challenge. I did not have the same frames of reference that the girls had simply because I had not grown up a girl. I could never understand what it was like to have my breasts not develop at the same pace. I did not go to girls' only classes or summer camps. I could only imagine what girls talked about in the bathroom or locker room when they were growing up. As I settled in at my first day that all became clear to me as I heard the girls sharing their gripes about their kids and boyfriends. I could not share them. I had never had either. It had never even been a true goal of mine for that matter, despite my sexual fantasies. Working in such a small place, however, made their conversations inescapable. We all heard whatever each other were saying. I watched how the other girls worked off each other and tried to mimic it. They had a familiarity with each other that let them know when they need to step in to help one of the other girls with various stresses and demands they were dealing with at any given moment. I had difficulty with choosing the right moment to step in. The girls sometimes saw something that let me know that I had to step in and get involved. Often it was the name on the caller identification of someone that had been rude to one of the girls. The calls were frequently unpleasant, with one man thinking it was appropriate to make pornography and sex jokes on nearly every call. I was horrified to find out he was married to some poor woman who he probably made cringe every time he opened his guttural mouth. The work was non-stop and reminded me of my younger days when the company was still at the ground floor and I was Mr. Everything. I learned that there was no such thing as an ordinary day as an assistant. Everyday was a little different. It was tough to fall into a routine. I tried to plot things out as I always did. I loved order. I would set an agenda and make sure that it was done, but, now, I was at everyone else's whims. If one of the people higher on the food chain told me that they needed something, I had to drop everything. No matter what I was doing, what I was asked to do became my top priority. The low-level managers were not all created equal, however. Some were better at asking us to do things than others. The ones that left everything to last minute made me and the other girls crazy. We were always snipping about them behind their backs for their lack of planning, which became our crises to solve. Fortunately, the highest-ranking boss on the floor was good with us. I did not get much time to talk with him, but he came across as having a congenial personality despite his directness. He was fair minded and worked with Courtney to make sure that our loads were fairly even and manageable. Most of his feedback filtered through Courtney. I was happy that she never let on if he had an unkind word for me. He never held it against any of the girls when they took a day off to care for a sick child. It was hard to say a bad word about him, but Gwen still managed to do so. I was sure that she was trying to bait me into seconding it, so that she could tell him what I said. That was just her angle. I was not one of her girls because I did not join in on the man bashing and kid whining. I tried the former, but it was hard to lie about relationships from a point of view I had never experienced. I am sure Aidan Dillon's conquests would have more than a few bad words about the man, but I could only imagine what they were. I knew that I had not always been the perfect gentleman. Aidan Dillon's sex drive and stamina were nothing to write home about either. Still, I didn't want to make such complaints as if I could speak to them firsthand. As the lowest ranking assistant, most of the drop everything tasks fell to me. Sometimes, what they were asking for was par for the course, like paperwork, faxing, scanning or organizing papers and files. Other times, it was being sent out to the pharmacy to pickup this or that drug because what we had in the pantry was not good enough to stop somebody's runs, mitigate another person's heartburn or shut off a boss's runny nose. That was the type of order that was fun in the spring or fall, but a bitch in the heat and cold. The hot heat or cold wind coming up my skirt is not one of my favorite things. There are times that I certainly wish that I picked a more temperate climate in which to start over again. Part of me chaffed at what I was doing. I knew I was being underutilized, but nothing in my official background would tell that to my bosses. That was all my doing and my intention from the start too. I was the one that wanted to re-earn everything. Still, it was a challenge to have answer to low-level managers, let alone senior administrative assistants. They were all people that I did not have the time of day to know their names before. Now, I existed to make their lives easier. In the few moments I caught myself with time to think back to what I had been, it was a challenge. Fortunately, the ever-changing duties of my job left me little time to dwell too long on such things. In fact, I was surprised by some of the things I had to do. It was amazing how much people spill to each other about their lives. It was way more information than I ever wanted to know, but I had to put it up and try to be a friend and counselor. I was a sounding board on personal issues a lot more than I was on business ideas. It was the complete opposite of when I had been Aidan Dillon. Other things were not as much as a surprise to me. While I had not figured that I would be hostessing and waiting tables as a secretary, when the situation called for it, that's what I did. As the low girl on the totem pole, once Zanna took lunch, I was working as the receptionist. The phones never stopped ringing all day. The sound of ringing was constantly in my ears. It was background noise to me. I had to field calls at my desk, as backup to Zanna, but when I was the receptionist, it was nearly all of what I did. It was constantly asking someone to wait so I could pickup another call. I dreaded Zanna's lunch everyday. I don't know how she puts up with it. It's gotten to the point where I hate talking on the phone when I'm not at work. The moments of talking to guests in person were an actual treat by comparison to the phone calls. People were much less rude in person, especially when they wanted a cup of coffee, tea or water. I would set up the conference room for my bosses by bringing in whatever they needed. I would set a pitcher of water and plastic cups out for the meetings before I would settle back in at reception. Once one of my bosses was ready to meet with this or that guest, I got to my heeled feet and showed them into the conference room. I would wait until they settled in before I asked what they wanted to drink, if anything. Most of the times, they said they would take a cup of this or that. If it was coffee or tea, I would make the cup in the kitchenette before I minced back into the conference room with my skirt-constricted stride. The guests were nice for the most part. Every once and a while, you would get someone with a bad attitude, but I had to eat it and just bitch behind their backs with the girls. When the job got less hectic, I turned my attention to the filing, scanning and paperwork that had built up while I was consumed by something more important. The stacks never seemed to get shorter. With everything we pushed out, more got pushed onto us. I liked that though. I never liked to be idle. So, the constant work and variety of ever changing tasks suited me. Getting the tools to get everything done, however, was often a sore subject amongst the girls. Courtney did all the ordering of office supplies. Whatever she did with the orders was closely scrutinized upstairs since they only cared about the bottom line. Nothing could go to waste. Every ounce of ink had to be drained from the pens before we could discard them. Every page of paper we copied was counted and indexed by the computer system the copier was tied into. The girls griped that it was something that happened after the merger. I could see that the merger still had the girls feeling anxious. Nobody likes change like that. They probably feared that they would be let go as redundant. They let on that my hiring actually put them a little at ease since it meant that their department was not contracting, at least in the near future. Putting away the supply orders fell on my lap as well as the new girl. It was not the hardest thing. I was lucky that our supplier's hand trucked all the boxes to near where they needed to go. Still, I had to put things away. The loss of testosterone and increased estrogen that had been paired with my weight loss had certainly done a number on my strength. The boxes of supplies felt far heavier to me than ever. I had to clutch the boxes of paper to my stomach to carry them to the shelves they were stacked upon. Even then my arms were trembling from the weight by the end. My shoulders ached as I put away the last of the paper and began to put away the rest of the supply order. I felt weak while I put away the far less heavy boxes of clips, binders and pens. I felt my loss of strength for the first time. I knew that it had happened. I went into the whole thing knowing that there was no real possibility of me maintaining my old strength. Part of me was curious to go to a gym and find out just how much I had lost. My better judgment, however, forced me to put aside the thought since it was not as if it was going to make any difference. Retreating to my desk, I always found myself rubbing my arms and calves after I finished putting away the supplies. The girls noticed, but I was only lightly teased about it. They were just happy that it was my task now and not theirs. Sorting the mail was my job too. It was a pain since the company mandated that we had to scan in each page of mail into the electronic filing system before we could distribute it to the people on the floor. I had never considered a mailroom, thinking it was outdated. I found myself unhappy that my successors had not decided to change direction in that regard. Once I finished handing out the mail to each employee, I could get back to my desk and slip off my heels for a few moments. I would log back into my computer to name each piece of mail that had come into the floor as I sorted it on the electronic system. Sometimes, more complex tasks made their way onto my desk though. I would get to put together a report or presentation for one of the low- level managers. It was fun to get to exercise a little discretion and creativity while I took to putting it together to my boss's specifications. Mostly, however, I was preoccupied by mindless tasks. It was what my experience dictated. I knew that I would not be there forever. I was going to get an education under my new name and move up the ladder. Without that, I was going to be an office manager like Courtney, at best. It was not a bad life, but it was not what I had given up all the trappings of Aidan Dillon's life for. I did not go from earned opulence to struggling to live paycheck to paycheck to end up being satisfied to work as an assistant at any level. The morning routine to get ready became mundane as I became engrained in my new life. The daily inspection of my body for hair removal was time consuming. I built up an inventory of bleaches, razors, wax, tweezers and shaving cream. Each day I had to shave myself to make sure that there was no hint of hair. I could not wait for the winter months when I could get back