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Michelle Morgan Chapter 1 - New Job As far back as I can remember, I've always been a cross dresser. I'm male, and I've never considered myself to be transsexual, but I've always been attracted to femininity; not just as an admirer, but also as a participant. Yes, I do find females to be sexually and romantically attractive, but I also appreciate (and study) women in the way women appreciate other women. Your mileage might vary, but to me, there's a clear distinction between the biology of being female or male, versus the outward expression of femininity or masculinity, as well as the social and cultural expectations of women and men. As I grew up, I observed that the sex/gender roles, general behaviors, mannerisms, body language, facial expressions, speech patterns, and most obviously, the dress codes are so different between women and men, yet many of these differences seem to have little to do with biology, at least on the surface. Understanding how sex hormones function does explain much of the biology that influences the behaviors of the two sexes; but from my perspective, cultural conditioning always seemed to be largely responsible for our expectations of sex-specific behaviors. If hormones alone dictate our behaviors, then why do I, a male, enjoy wearing high heels and lipstick? This fascination of mine with femininity led me to start building my own feminine wardrobe, once I graduated high school and moved out of my parents' home. My parents could afford to support me while I attended a university, but I insisted on having my own place, and I got a job to pay for it. They already had arranged to pay for my tuition, and after seeing how determined I was to pay my own way for my living arrangement, they decided to help with my rent, as well. Of course, I still worked around my school schedule, but with my parents helping out, I had much more disposable income for buying women's clothing, shoes, cosmetics, and accessories. By the time I earned my first degree, I was quite adept at applying makeup and coordinating my feminine attire. I probably owned ten times more women's clothing than men's. I also regularly ventured out into the world as a woman. I was terrified the first time that I presented myself as a woman in public, but to both my surprise and delight, I passed as female to most observers. On that point, distinguishing between being a woman and being female is not a matter of simple semantics; it's a distinction with a clear, and very important difference. To be accepted as a woman by the general public without any issues, I figured that I had to convince everyone that I'm also female, which is a higher standard than being a male woman, as I define the terms. My voice was the main problem, but over the years, I studied feminine deportment and speech patterns, and I trained my voice to sound as much like a female's as possible. While earning my degrees, I had no time for a social life, and I never dated or hung out with friends of either sex. I continued straight through school to earn my master's degree, simultaneously studying fashion at home and practicing my "craft," as I had come to think of it. It had become more than just a cross dressing hobby; temporarily transforming myself into a woman during my free time was my life's passion. It felt so wonderful to go out shopping as a woman in the daylight. By far, that was my favorite activity, and I became recognized as a regular customer at several shops. I also dined out at restaurants, attended concerts, plays, and films, and I took regular, relaxing strolls through the park as a woman. Of course, the one unfortunate constant is that I always was alone. It would be so nice to have a girlfriend who understood, which I assumed was a universal fantasy for cross dressers. While having a romantic girlfriend who accepted my cross dressing would be ideal, even having a platonic female friend who accepted me, and went shopping with me, would be great. Maybe once I settled on a career, I would finally have time to socialize. Master's degree obtained, I, Michael Tyler Morgan, landed my first career-oriented job early in the summer. I had submitted applications all over town, and even in a few in other cities. Most of my interviews seemed to go well, but having no experience, I expected to hear back from one of the smaller, start-up companies instead of the large, firmly-established corporation that offered me a position only one day after my interview. The company actually wasn't that old, founded only a bit over a decade ago, but it had grown up fast and already had a recognized name. It was a great opportunity that I couldn't pass up, but there were some slight negatives to entering the full-time workforce. My hair had grown very long while in school, which wasn't an issue for most part-time jobs; but, as a man, I had to cut it reasonably short for my serious job interviews. The United States of the twenty-first century had become more socially tolerant; but I'm not a transitioning transsexual, and I still was presenting myself as a reasonably masculine man at school, work, and when visiting my parents. I was neither brave enough nor psychologically prepared to present myself as a cross dresser to anyone. I reasoned that, once I demonstrated my value on the job, I might be able to get away with growing my hair long again. For now, income was the priority, so my craft would have to down-shift a few gears, as I went back to wearing wigs and keeping my fingernails short enough to avoid suspicion. I also had to avoid going out as a woman anywhere near the area where I now worked, just in case. In fact, I went out very little while I was getting acclimated to my new employment routine. The first few months on the job went very well for me, and Halloween was coming up. This was a company that, while fully modernized from a tech perspective, still believed in the formal office environment. All employees, from the President to the newest secretary, worked in the office building five days a week, and the dress code was "business formal," every day. While many other companies, in nearly all industries, were allowing, or even requiring, employees to work from home much of the time, my company still operated with a twentieth century mentality, before the "business casual" concept took over western business culture in the 1990s. The company even had a "Personnel Department" instead of the more modern sounding "Human Resources Department," to which most companies had switched. Secretaries and clerks still were called secretaries and clerks, as opposed to the various types of executive and/or administrative assistant titles found in other companies. Still adhering to that old office concept, there was a distinct feeling of camaraderie among the staff, and everyone actually got to know each other at work, like my parents had experienced in the old days. Largely because of that corporate family atmosphere, our staff celebrated nearly every holiday together in the office, to one degree or another. I was told by my new coworkers that the company paid for extravagant lunches on Independence Day, Thanksgiving, and Christmas (actually, the last work days just before those holidays). Sometimes, the company had caterers take over the conference rooms on every floor, and at other times, the company execs for each department would takes us out to expensive restaurants. For most other holidays, employees got together and brought in food that they bought or prepared themselves, and had extra long lunches together in the conference rooms. The managers (and their secretaries) usually were the ones organizing things, but anyone could step up with ideas. Halloween was no exception, and by mid-October, every office in the building was covered with all sorts of festive, spooky decorations. The staff members were encouraged to wear "tasteful" costumes for the annual Halloween parties (which typically lasted all day, during work hours). About a third of the male staff wore some type of costume, but it seemed that well over half of the female staff dressed up. As expected, there were plenty of witches, vampires, and zombies, among other traditional costumes. Some were very simplistic and playful, while other costumes were very elaborate and intricate. I figured that most of the employees who wore elaborate costumes would be attending other parties after work, or perhaps planned to escort their children around their neighborhoods for "Trick-or-Treat," if that was even a thing anymore. As a child, I never had the opportunity. Naturally, I wanted to cross dress for my first Halloween at the company; but I thought that might be too much, too soon. I decided to ease into things; so for my first year, I dressed as a medieval European knight, complete with a gambeson, chain mail, a shield, and a dull sword (which I had to get pre-approved with the Security staff). I already had plenty of spirit gum and wig glue that I sometimes used for cross dressing, which I used to glue on a false mustache and goatee. While the costume was rather heavy and complicated, it was a big hit; partly because of its detailed historical accuracy, but mainly because I refused to break character all day long (except on the phone with outsiders). I spoke with an accent, addressing my coworkers as "My Lady" and "My Lord," referring to the company's President as the King, calling the building a castle, etc. I received compliments all day from both women and men. Even management seemed impressed that I was fitting in as a new employee, both in my work performance and my social attitude. As time went on, I even started making casual friends at work, but still no close relationships. Of course, the knight costume was just the ground work for the next Halloween, assuming that I was still employed there. Every employee had a probationary period, but I really enjoyed both the work itself and the working environment, so I did everything I could to make myself a valuable asset. Fortunately, this was the type of company where competence, hard work, and a positive attitude got noticed by management (which probably explains why the company grew so fast and is a leader in its industry). Granted, being a good social fit was important, but kissing ass wasn't the way to get ahead here, and management led by example, not by tyranny. I couldn't believe how fortunate I had been in finding such a great place to work right out of school. Over the course of the next year, I kept my proverbial nose to the grindstone at work, and sparingly cross dressed at home on weeknights, going out only on occasional weekends. As with school and my part-time job before, it was frustrating having to live a double life, pretending to be a typical, masculine male at work, but at least now I had most weekends to myself. To reduce the risk of accidental encounters with coworkers, I typically drove to the outer suburbs, or even a neighboring city, for my outings as a woman. While I did make several friends of both sexes at work, they were strictly office friendships. On some weeknights, a few of us would meet at a bar or restaurant to unwind or talk shop, but I hadn't yet made any friendships strong enough to extend beyond the context of my job. I also developed a good reputation among the management staff for being thorough and reliable, accepting every task that came my way, be it interesting or mundane. That was the norm at this company, though, and the few new hires who failed to quickly prove their value were dismissed. Making it past the probationary period also earned me the respect of my coworkers, who had even less tolerance than management for dead weight. They all worked "both hard and smart," as one of the secretaries put it, and while they willingly helped each other, they weren't about to carry anyone who was lazy or clueless. The environment wasn't mean-spirited or overly internally competitive, though. Everyone cared about getting things done quickly and correctly, regardless of who did what. It really was a "team," although that word never was used in any meetings or company memos. Cheesy corporate lingo was frowned upon here, and although it was only my first real job, I somehow found that to be a refreshing attitude. Chapter 2 - Show Prep Almost a year later, as the next Halloween approached, I found myself engaging in more introspection than usual. I kept asking myself why it was so important that I cross dress at work this year. I concluded that I needed to be seen by others the same way that I see myself, or at least to let others see a glimpse of that feminine aspect of me, even if they think it's only a costume. The feminine side of me hated being a secret, and "she" rightfully wanted credit for being the real me. The masculine persona that I presented to my parents, at school, and at work was just a front for me to get by in life. If society would allow it, I would dress as a woman every day for the rest of my life, even though I still had no desire to be biologically female. I love expressing my femininity, and I enjoy being treated as a woman by others. It just feels... "right." It's a clich? perhaps, but true. I decided that I couldn't go to work on Halloween dressed simply as a female version of myself, in typical business formal attire for a woman. Although that would've felt wonderful for me internally, it could be construed as an insult to biological females and/or male-to- female transsexuals, by unintentionally giving the impression that I consider all women to be "characters." Perhaps I was over-thinking the issue, but being feminine myself, I didn't want to mock femininity. Last year, I didn't dress as a man, per se. I dressed as a knight, who happened to be a man, as were most historical knights. This year, I needed to dress in a specific role that just happened to be female. Wearing a maid's uniform was my first instinct, and what I eventually decided to do. While I considered other traditionally female costumes, such as a nurse, a witch, a succubus (maybe not safe for work, but I let myself have fun with the notion for a while), a princess, and a few other things, I kept coming back to the maid concept. Maid costumes could be as dignified or as slutty as one desired, so I had plenty of leeway for tasteful, office-appropriate options that would still allow me to have fun and show off my cross dressing skills. Also, wearing a maid costume would allow me to assume a feminine role in which I could remain all day, just as I did with the knight costume. I took inventory of my own wardrobe to determine whether I would need to buy anything. Laughing at myself for being a stereotypical cross dresser, I already owned quite a bit of maid attire. I had several headpieces, collar and cuff sets, various styles of stockings, and more aprons than I could count. I picked out a pair of flat black, T- strap Mary Janes with four inch [10cm], tapered chunk heels that were perfect. Three inch heels would've made more sense, but for my own personal gratification, I wanted all of the other women in the office to see that I could spend all day at work in high heels without the slightest problem or complaint. Who knows, some might even respect me for it. The dress was the problem. I wanted this uniform to be black and white for the office, and all of the black dresses that I used for maid uniforms were too short or too long, too frilly or not frilly enough, too Victorian or too French. I had never dressed as a maid in front of anyone else, so I never had to concern myself about how my uniform would be perceived and received by others, until now. I went online and found a costume shop in town that could make a custom dress to my specifications. Fortunately, the shop was open on Saturdays, so I made an appointment. It was only late August, so time would not be a factor. Dressed as a woman, I drove out to the shop to discuss the concept for the dress and to have my measurements taken. The shop was operated by a relatively young married couple, and together, we decided on two separate styles, because I couldn't make up my mind. Two weeks later, I returned to try on the dresses, and they were perfect. One dress had a skirt with a plain hem that was knee-length, and just loose enough to allow for a slip or a thin petticoat, but not so loose that it would appear awkward without one. I wanted to keep my options open with this dress. The full-length sleeves ended in white cuffs that buttoned closed and partially covered my hands. The top of the dress buttoned up the front from the waist, and it had its own white V-neck collar. The collar and cuffs had modest lace trim, just enough to add a feminine touch while still looking modern and professional. The dress was made to be worn with a waist apron only. The skirt of the second dress was was designed to be worn with a thick petticoat, and the hem was slightly above the knee, and still suitable for the office. The hem was trimmed with an intricate and overtly feminine broderie anglaise. The top of the dress zipped up from the back and had a gathered neckline, allowing for a separate choker collar to be worn. The sleeves were mid-length, and both the sleeves and the collar were trimmed with the same white design as the hem of the skirt. The dress could accommodate either a waist apron or a full bib apron. The fit and quality of the dresses were so impressive, that I ordered three more of each (two in black, and one in pink), to the delight of the proprietors. I rushed home to try on each dress with a variety of aprons and accessories, finding the perfect combinations for both styles. While the Mary Janes, combined with sheer, black stockings, were perfect for the more professional dress, I decided that a black patent pair of five and a half inch [14cm], stiletto-heeled, ankle- strap sandals that I had recently bought, along with black fishnet stockings, looked much cuter (and sexier) with the frilly dress. Even with a few weeks remaining before Halloween, it was going to be tough to decide between the two styles. Given that I intended to role play again, the type of personality that I would create for my maid character would heavily influence my dress choice. During the weekends leading up to Halloween, I spent quite a bit of time doing actual housework in both dresses, because I intended to take over all of the serving and cleaning duties during the party, in keeping with the role that I would assume all day. I kept changing my mind about which dress I would choose, depending on which I was wearing at the moment. The professional dress was more comfortable and slightly more appropriate for the office, but I knew that the frilly dress would get more attention. After working in each pair of shoes for hours at a time, the taller sandals actually turned out to be more comfortable than the Mary Janes. The fact that the sandals had open toes and heels made up for the fact that the heels were much higher, so my feet weren't as cramped. However, it took more practice to perfect my curtsy wearing the stilettos. As the event drew closer, I had talked myself into using the sexier, frilly dress, and I would wear a full bib apron with it. I had a couple of solid white aprons with ruffles and lace trim that worked very well with the dress. To perfect the look, I was wearing my makeup much darker and more defined than I normally did, giving my face a dramatic look that would make a sexier impression, but without being overly suggestive at the office. I also concentrated on my overall demeanor, developing the maid's personality as I cooked and cleaned. I decided that she would be something of a "Jekyll-and-Hyde" character; very formal and subservient most of the time, but with a fiery, sassy streak that would catch people off guard in a funny, charming way. I kept the accent American; specifically, my own. I would be busy enough trying to maintain my barely passable female voice all day without having to focus on a consistent foreign accent in the process. Because my own hair still was too short, I picked out a long, blonde wig from my collection, but I couldn't make it work. Instead, I used some hair extensions of a similar style that blended with my natural hair, so that I could fix it into a bun in the back. With a little experimentation, I found just the right look, with a few strands of hair hanging down from the bun in the back, and a few across my forehead. The bun made me look like a real maid trying to adhere to a dress code, yet the few loose, untamed strands gave me just enough of a mischievous look to raise eyebrows... as though I had been making out with the butler a few minutes ago, and hadn't had a chance to completely redo my bun. I picked out a dark red nail polish for my manicure and pedicure, but as with my hair, I was dissatisfied with the length of my fingernails. Normally, I preferred painting my natural nails, and I used to let them grow just long enough to look good with polish; but with the new job, I didn't want to take any chances, so I kept them short. I wasn't a fan of acrylic nails, but they were useful in fashion emergencies. The actual holiday fell on a Saturday this year, so the office would be celebrating on Friday. I decided to schedule an appointment at a nail salon for the Thursday evening before, and get acrylics. I would have the whole weekend to undo my nails (which I had done before, so I knew what I was getting into). For accessories, I picked out my sexiest "girly-girl" perfume, a pair of large, golden hoop earrings, a frilly, white headband, and a lacy, black-and-white choker collar. As a working maid, I wouldn't be wearing any jewelry on my wrists or fingers. I debated whether to add some wrist cuffs, but the elbow-length sleeves already had white trim, so I decided that wearing cuffs would look like I was trying too hard. Sometimes, less is more; and besides, my manicure would provide enough decoration for my hands. I did opt for a ladies' wristwatch with a slim, black band, but I could keep that in my apron pocket, if necessary. My undergarments included lacy white panties over a tight gaff, and a matching white C-cup bra. I had bras and breast forms in a variety of cup sizes, and given the office environment and my physical build, I went for proportional realism. I had been engaged in nearly constant corset training for years, so my waist was nice and thin, and I always wore relatively loose-fitting suits at work to hide my feminine figure. I wouldn't need a corset for the costume, but I wore a comfortable, elastic waist cincher, just to be safe. Between the gaff and the cincher, tights or pantyhose wouldn't be necessary to secure my manhood, so I was free to use a garter belt and separate stockings. I would be wearing a petticoat, too, so that no one would see the tops of my stockings (unless I showed them). I also wore a camisole, to smoothen out the lines from the cincher and bra. It wasn't really necessary for the look, but the dress felt more comfortable with the camisole than without. When testing the other, more professional dress, a full slip replaced both the camisole and the petticoat, but impracticality was a major part of the fun of wearing the frilly dress. My purse was a small, black, quilted, flap bag by Chanel, with a classic interlocking leather and gold chain shoulder strap. It was quite a bit above my station as a maid, but my new job paid well, and I couldn't resist showing it off at work. Granted, observant women at the office might wonder why I would spend so much money for a purse that wasn't even part of the costume, but I could just lie and claim that I borrowed it from a friend. Besides, I did have a reputation at the office for being thorough in everything I did, so that would satisfy most inquiries. This is where the groundwork laid on the previous Halloween would pay off. Because I went all-out to be a convincing knight last year, going all out again this year wouldn't seem out of character for me... or so I had hoped. Chapter 3 - The Reveal The day finally arrived, and I felt like a young child on Christmas morning. I woke up early and got myself all "maided-up." It had been a while since my nails were long, but I quickly got used to them again. The night before, I satisfied my typical paranoia by over-preparing. I had packed a large suitcase and two large, women's tote bags. One tote contained a men's business suit, dress shirt, tie, male underwear, black socks, men's shoes, a pair of men's leather gloves, and a wallet, just in case. I used the other tote to carry a fancy black and gold serving tray, as well as all of the feminine things I would need that I couldn't fit into my purse, such as a small makeup kit for touch-ups, extra stockings, a pair of emergency black flats that would work with the maid's uniform, makeup remover, extra nail polish, nail polish remover, a bottle of the fragrance I was wearing, a hair brush, eyelash curlers, wet wipes, cotton balls, etc. The suitcase contained an identical backup maid's dress, petticoat, and apron, more extra stockings, an extra bra and several panties, the Mary Janes, facial soap, shampoo and hair conditioner, body lotion and facial moisturizer, a full makeup travel kit, shaving gel and two razors, a large hand mirror, a hair dryer, a manicure/pedicure travel kit, a business dress suitable for the office, two full slips, a floral print casual dress, a pair of women's jeans, a pink casual top, a pair of black pumps with three-inch heels, a gold pair of flat thong sandals, a pair of casual boots with two-inch heels, a bag full of pantyhose, two wigs, a gold ladies watch, and a small bag of miscellaneous costume jewelry. Like I said, I'm thorough. I imagined everything that could go wrong (within reason), and prepared accordingly. The odds were, I'd drive to work as a maid without incident, have a good time being a maid all day at work without incident, then drive home as a maid without incident; but Murphy's Law ("if something can go wrong, it will") was something I didn't want to deal with while dressed as a maid, even on Halloween. Also, in the unlikely event that there would be a get-together somewhere after work, I wanted the option of being able to attend, in one form or another. It would be easy to quickly swap my maid's uniform for a typical women's outfit, which would take only a few minutes. I could explain to coworkers that I brought other women's clothes (loaned to me by a girlfriend) with me just in case, and considering that my nails and hair were done, and my face was heavily made-up, it would sound logical. Of course, that wouldn't be necessary; it was Halloween, so I could go anywhere dressed as a maid and be the life of the party. It's just that I prefer having options, and chance favors the prepared mind. To be able to present myself as a man on short notice, I could cover my hands with gloves in a pinch, but to remove the acrylic nails and the nail polish, I would need at least an hour. Either way, I would need a shower to completely wash my face, fix my hair, and remove the smell of perfume from my body. Unless I wound up spending the night at a co-worker's house, none of that would be feasible or necessary; but the point is that I had with me everything that I would need, if the situation presented itself. Just knowing that I had those options in the trunk of my car gave me peace of mind. I always prepared that way whenever I went out dressed as a woman. Psychologically, it's comparable to carrying an umbrella, just to ensure that it doesn't rain. It was Halloween, though, so while I was prepared for anything, there was no reason to be worried. This was going to be fun! In addition to wearing costumes, many of us volunteered to bring food and drinks, so I had stopped by the store the night before to buy a Halloween-themed cake. I enjoyed cooking and baking, and had done so for other holiday celebrations at the office, but with all of my costume preparations, I was too busy (and too nervous) to focus on baking a cake from scratch. I arrived at the office earlier than usual, so that I could get situated before everyone else arrived. That was difficult to do at this company, because so many of my co-workers were go-getters who routinely arrived well ahead of time. The first to compliment me were the two security guards, a man and a woman, at the front desk. They stated that they always looked forward to working Halloween at this building, because so many employees got into the holiday spirit. I arrived on my floor, and the lights were already on. I could smell coffee brewing from the breakroom. Once in my office, I closed the door, checked my hair and makeup, then tucked my purse and tote bag into a file drawer. I booted up my computer and logged in to check my email, just to make sure there wasn't anything that needed my immediate attention. Satisfied that my little corner of the business world was in order, I carried the cake into the building's main conference room, which typically served as headquarters for holiday celebrations. Two of the female secretaries were there. They already had rearranged the room, covered the tables with plastic Halloween tablecloths, and placed black and orange decorations all over. One of the two women was dressed as a devil, or was she a succubus? Her short dress was dark red, and the neckline displayed just enough of her ample cleavage to be mischievous without crossing the line (barely). She wore matching red knee-high boots with tall, spiked heels and thick platforms, and they looked like something from a dominatrix catalog. Her heavy, dramatic makeup was sexier than it was scary. Her eyes were dark and smoky, with heavy liner and highly arched, sinister eyebrows. Her lips were painted blood red with a thin black liner, and they were heavily glossed. Her long nails were painted a glossy black, and she wore a long, red wig with two intimidating (because they were so realistic looking) horns protruding from her skull. Attached to her back were two sinister-looking black wings with red shading. The thing that struck me the most was the blatantly BDSM-styled red leather collar that she was wearing. It absolutely made the costume, but she was right on the borderline, if not slightly over, for being "office appropriate." I didn't recall anyone being that daring last year. The other woman wore an angel costume, with flowing white robes and a golden halo. A pair of white feathered wings with golden trim hung on her back. All of her accessories were either white or gold, and she wore golden gladiator sandals that strapped all the way up to her knees. They were the sexiest flats I'd ever seen. Her fingernails and toenails were painted with a metallic gold polish, her lipstick was gold, and her eye makeup was minimal. Her sweet, angelic face glowed, and there was a touch of golden glitter on her face that caused the light to dance on her cheeks as she moved about. She was displaying her fair share of cleavage too, but not as much as the devil. The most amusing thing about the pair is that the costumes were in direct contrast to the two women's normal personalities; not in a good-versus-evil way, but in a tame-versus-wild way. The devil is rather calm and reserved, like a stereotypical librarian. She rarely speaks unless directly spoken to first, she always (holidays aside) wears dresses and blouses with high necklines, and her skirts (she never wears pants) always hang below the knee. She's not unfriendly, but she keeps to herself, and despite the fact that she's been with the company for years, very few of her co-workers know her well. Some employees joke that they suspect she is an android because of her emotionless demeanor... well, that, and the fact that she has a spooky reputation for often completing jobs before they are assigned to her. By contrast, the angel is a very outgoing extrovert. She's fun to be around, friendly to everyone, usually starts conversations, and has something of a reputation for being a little wild outside of the office. By no means is she a troublemaker or a busy-body; she's simply one of those types who plays as hard as she works. While she doesn't technically break rules, she routinely bends them to get the job done. I imagined her, in her teens, as that babysitter who was a favorite with the children, because she'd let them stay up past their bedtimes and watch the scary movies that they normally weren't allowed to watch. Aside from assuming roles exactly the opposites of their personalities, the two women also are best friends, both at work and at home, which made their costumes even more impressive to those of us who know them. Years ago, Katherine "Katie" Svetlana Yahontov (the quiet devil), had recommended Janice Maria Chang (the racy angel) for a position here, and they've worked side-by-side ever since. As the story was told to me, management, while extremely impressed with Katie's job performance, had wondered whether she was fitting in with her fellow employees. She came across as being a bit frosty and intimidating to others, even though that wasn't her intention. Management was concerned that Katie might be dampening the office's mood, especially considering that she worked as the President's secretary. After Janice was hired, everyone else warmed up to Katie, or at least accepted her, simply based on her close friendship with Janice, who possessed all of the warmth, cheerful charisma, and social enthusiasm that Katie lacked. For a moment, I had forgotten that I was dressed as a maid... or, for that matter, who and where I was. I stood frozen, still holding the cake, gawking at these two incredibly sexy females, my mind racing through one inappropriate sexual fantasy after another. These were mortal women whom I saw every day. They were regular working persons, like myself, with whom I had I healthy working relationships, and whom I greatly respected for their competence. But for a moment, they had become sex goddesses... angel and devil, yin and yang, with a combined aura surrounding them. I might have stood there all day, drooling on the cake, had Katie not spoken. "Impressive," announced the devil, in her monotone voice, as though she were analyzing soil samples for an agricultural survey. Katie NEVER compliments (or criticizes) anyone. Janice, who was busy opening a package of paper plates, looked up at Katie, then followed her eyes to me. I'm not sure which opened wider, her eyes or her mouth. "Holy fuckin' shit! Michael?!" Janice dropped everything and rushed over to give me a closer inspection. The devil immediately, but calmly, followed. The angel and devil began circling me from opposite sides, like two sharks trying to determine whether there's a meal in the water. "Thank you, Michael... or should I call you Michelle? You just won me a free lunch on Monday. The desserts go on that table." Katie pointed with a limp wrist, then returned to her preparations, as though I had vanished. Apparently, the angel and devil had made a bet as to whether my costume would surpass the one I wore last year. Janice continued her examination, as I walked over and placed the cake on the table that Katie had designated. "Wow, Micha... uh, Michelle, she's right! You're the perfect maid! I'd never guess you were a man if I didn't already know! Did you get a fuckin' sex change last night?" Janice teased. From across the room, Katie offered a friendly reminder... friendly for Katie, anyway. "Jan. Office. Language." No one else, not even her family, addressed Janice as anything but "Janice." While Katie referred to her as "Janice" in third person, she always called her "Jan" to her face. It was strictly a Katie thing, and no one asked questions. Janice winced and waved off the comment. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, honey, you look amazing! Based on last year's performance, I take it that you'll be our office maid for the entire day?" I stood up straight, then formally curtsied, holding out my wrists on either side. "Yes, Mistress Janice. I'll be serving all day," I announced, in my best feminine voice. I then stood up straight, with my shoes touching each other at both the heels and toes, folded my hands in front of my apron at the waist, looked her in the eyes, and batted my eyelashes. The angel clapped her hands together and loudly squealed with delight. Her mouth opened widely, exposing her perfect teeth, and the expression in her eyes was anything but angelic. "Oh, we're going to have fun today, aren't we Katie?!" "Indeed." Katie stoically replied, too focused on her preparations to bother looking up. "Nevermind her." Janice continued. "Computers don't understand fun." "It's not my intention to contradict you, ma'am, but Mistress Katie seems to be having plenty of fun with her own costume," I countered. "Had you told me what they were in advance, ma'am, I would've expected your costumes to be reversed." "Actually, sweetie, that's exactly what I had planned," explained Janice. "But when we went to have our measurements taken for the costumes, Katie told the couple at the shop to measure her for the succubus dress." The couple? Did she mean the same place where I went? A deadpan voice interrupted my thoughts. "Of course I did. Extreme role reversal carries more shock value. I present Michelle as Exhibit B." "Oh, it's EXTREME, is it?" Janice protested. "You're sinful. I'm pure. It's understood." Janice laughed and leaned toward my ear. "And this is coming from my best friend. Imagine what my enemies must be saying about me!" I had expected to have fun today, but I didn't expect such entertainment right off the bat. Listening to their banter was as much fun as staring at their sexy costumes. "Katie's right though, Michelle. You did pull a complete one-eighty from last year's manly getup. It's such an extreme change from your normal appearance, too. I can't get over how much you look and move like a real girl. And you've absolutely nailed that subservient maid persona. Once word gets out, you'll have office groupies flocking to you all day, even more than last year! They won't even believe it's you. I hope you didn't plan on getting any normal work done today." Janice's fawning over me was music to my ears. If her reaction was any indication of what I could expect throughout the day, then I knew my frilly dress was the right choice. "You flatter me, Mistress Janice." Again, I curtsied. "But I'll be sure that you two get credit for being my first official groupies, ma'am." "Damn straight!" chuckled Janice, as she left to get some ice from the breakroom freezer. As soon as the hydraulic door closed behind her, the devil unexpectedly rattled my cage. "Don't worry, Michelle. I suspect that most people will buy last year's smoke screen. If not, I'll run interference for you. Hand me that white serving tray." I was too stunned to verbally reply, automatically handing the tray to her. "We'll have two large punch bowls here, and I need you to place several stacks of these cups on either side, so that everyone can easily access the punch from either side of the table. At lunch, Janice will start spiking the punch, so if you don't want to get tipsy in your high heels, don't drink any punch after eleven." "Yes, Mistress Katie" was all I could muster. I was still shocked, and I avoided eye contact with her. Just as I finished arranging the cups, Katie gave me additional orders, and she continued directing me as though I really were a hired maid. Was she keeping me busy as a favor, because she sensed the awkwardness I was feeling, or was she facilitating my role playing, or both? Regardless, I had to remind myself that, despite her innate creepiness, this was Katie's way of being nice to me. At this moment, I fully understood everything that everyone had told me about her. Never before had I met anyone so intuitive and observant... or so psychologically disturbing. It's as though she were psychic. She immediately saw right through months of my careful planning; and as soon as we were alone, she exposed my soul, just long enough to let me know that she's an ally. I could only hope that she's as discreet as she is blunt. The door opened, and the company President, James Rinehart, held it for Janice, who was carrying two bags of ice. In his other hand, James was carrying two bags, filled with Halloween cookies and cupcakes. He was too preoccupied with helping Janice through the door to notice anyone else in the room, so I turned to face Katie before he could see my face. Katie winked at me without the slightest emotion, her robotic eye moving like a slow camera shutter. Janice and James sat everything down on the tables, and then Janice made the introductions while Katie scooped ice into the punch bowls. "James, this is the surprise I was telling you about. We splurged and hired a full-service maid for the party. Please meet Michelle Morgan. Michelle, this is our President, James Rinehart." I was still a bit spooked by Katie, but I gathered myself and curtsied, getting back to my role playing. "Pleasure to meet you, Master James." James turned to Janice, then back to me. "Michael?!" He looked me up and down, then tilted his head to look over my shoulder. "Katie, since when does our benefits package cover sex changes?" Janice laughed, and I couldn't help but giggle. "I said the same thing! Can you believe this isn't a woman?" Janice asked James. "Forgive my manners, Michelle. The pleasure is all mine." He took my hand and kissed it, making Janice laugh again. James shook his head in amazement. "You had the best costume last year, no contest. But you've outdone yourself. I don't see the slightest trace of a man in front of me... and the details in your uniform are perfect! You thought of everything." "Thank you, sir." I curtsied again. "Last Halloween, you had the whole company convinced that you were a real knight who traveled through time, and now I'm already convinced that you're real maid... not to mention female. Were you in the drama club in high school or college?" James asked. "No Master James, but I do enjoy embracing my role to the fullest, whatever that might entail. Today, I'll be doing most of the serving and cleaning, so that everyone else can enjoy the festivities. Mistress Katie and Mistress Janice have been kind enough to instruct me and help me get started. By the way, would you like me to fetch you a cup of coffee, sir?" "Well, you don't need to do... I mean, you've got you hands full here with..." "No cream, lots of sugar. Is that right, Master James? I'll bring it to your office, right away, sir." I passively smiled and batted my eyes. "Uhhh... well, fine then. Thank you, Michelle." James blushed, smiled at Janice, and walked out, a bit flustered, but pleased. "Oh my God! You got James all flustered! I wish I had my phone out to record that!" Janice was amazed. James was easy going, and a difficult person to phase, but I knew that he was a man who loved his coffee, and I hit him at his weak point. I curtsied and excused myself. "Mistresses, if you'll excuse me, I have to fetch the President's morning coffee, but I'll immediately report back here for duty." Janice grinned, the way angels aren't supposed to, and I felt her eyes following me on the way out. More employees were arriving, and I passed several on the way to my office, each one reacting just as as Janice and James had. I had some gourmet coffee stashed in my office (which was much better than what the coffee club normally kept on hand), so I fetched some coffee and the serving tray, which I knew it would come in handy. I then hurried to the breakroom, where I encountered more coworkers. Some were in costume, but so far, none compared to the devil or angel. While brewing James' coffee, I remained in character, to the delight of my coworkers, but I had to quickly excuse myself again. I knocked on James' open door. He was on the phone, but he motioned me in, and I sat the tray on a table by his desk. He quickly finished his call. "Master James, I brought the whole pot, so that the coffee would still be hot. Did you want me to pour some into a mug, or should I just use a styrofoam cup?" I had brought a few cups from the breakroom, just in case. "I'm sorry, I should've had my mug ready, but I got distracted by an early call." James got up and pulled a clean mug out of a cabinet, and I gracefully reached for it, with my well-manicured hands. I carefully poured his coffee and added the perfect amount of sugar (having seen James make his own coffee in the breakroom a few times), stirring it with a plastic spoon. I removed the spoon and placed it on the tray, pulled a company coaster from my apron pocket, placed the coaster on his desk, gently sat the mug on the coaster with both hands, and turned the mug around so that the handle was at the perfect angle for his right hand. "Will there be anything else, sir?" "No, Michelle, but thank you. You've spoiled me enough. I dare say the entire office will be spoiled before the day's over," he laughed. "That's exactly why I'm here. Please buzz me if you need anything else. Have a wonderful day, sir." I smiled, curtsied, picked up the tray, and returned the coffee pot to the breakroom, then went back to my office to drop off the tray and get my purse. I had to stop by the restroom before heading back to the conference room. Over the course of my journey, I lost count of how many curtsies I had performed along the way, how many times I had said "sir" and "ma'am," and how many employees' jaws had dropped to the floor upon seeing me. I was so unrecognizable, that many of my coworkers had to be told who I was. Their facial expressions were flattering enough, without them having to say anything. I allowed myself to be swept up in the moment. I already was having the time of my life, and the workday wouldn't officially start for five more minutes. I had forgotten about Katie's earlier disturbing comments until I ran into her on my way to the restroom. In addition to the large restrooms with multiple stalls and sinks, there were also single men's and women's restrooms. They were officially designated for additional handicap access; but unofficially, they were suggested by the legal staff, just in case any unforeseen LGBT issues arose. At any rate, everyone used them if they wanted more privacy, and considering the nature of my costume, I had planned to use the single rooms all day today, to avoid any awkwardness in the community restrooms. I was about to enter one of the men's single restrooms, when the devil emerged from the single women's restroom adjacent to it and snapped her fingers at me. "Can't you read, Michelle?" ...cold, menacing, unflinching Katie stare... "That sign clearly reads 'Men,' Michelle." ...cold, menacing, unflinching Katie stare... "You're not a man, Michelle." ...cold, menacing, unflinching Katie stare... "Look at the two pictures on the doors, Michelle." ...cold, menacing, unflinching Katie stare... "Which picture looks like you, Michelle; the one wearing pants or the one wearing a skirt, Michelle?" "The picture of a person wearing a skirt looks like me, Mistress Katie." "Then that's where you belong, Michelle. And if this one is ever occupied over the course of the day, then you'll have to use the main women's restroom down the hall, Michelle. Pay attention to where you're going, Michelle. Don't let me catch you being that scatterbrained again, Michelle." I didn't know what was happening. Katie had already said more to me today than she had during the rest of my time at this company. We both were wearing very high heels, but with her platforms, she was still taller than I, so she was looking slightly down at me. As usual, her face was totally expressionless, and her voice was monotone, but she clearly was talking down to me... scolding me... toying with me, in character. Normally, that would've been attractive enough, but in her devil costume, and with such dramatic makeup, it was simultaneously erotic and terrifying. Katie simply didn't play games, and she didn't flirt. But this was Halloween, and people tend to come out of their shells when they're dressed in costumes. Was this Katie's way of hitting on me, or was it totally innocent fun? My bladder reminded me of the task at hand, so I curtsied and apologized. "Thank you, Mistress Katie. I'm sorry, I just wasn't paying attention." As I walked by her to enter the correct restroom, she grabbed my arm at the elbow and whispered in my ear. "If anyone questions you, Michelle, tell them that 'Mistress Katie' ordered you to use the women's restrooms." "Yes, ma'am," I whimpered. "Nice purse." She let go of my arm and walked away. I entered the single women's restroom and carefully rearranged my attire so that I could comfortably sit and urinate. I knew it would be a bit of a chore, so I had planned to avoid drinking as much as possible. What I hadn't planned on was Katie making me so nervous. I was shaking, but I also had an erection, both of which made urinating more difficult. Eventually, I gathered myself, conducted my business, tucked, and touched up my makeup. I couldn't help but wonder what reactions I would get by dropping Katie's name if anyone questioned my use of the women's restrooms. I was tempted to use the main women's restroom next time just so I'd have an opportunity to mention her, and see whether it scared anyone. I also wondered exactly what she intended to do if I was again caught being "scatterbrained." She always had seemed distant, but I had no idea she could be so intimidating. Was everyone scared of her, or was I special? Maybe she's just messing with me, and I'm overreacting. But, in a very odd, kinky way, I find her flat tone and cold, blank stare to be very attractive, especially when directed at me. I finally made my way back to the conference room, where Janice and Katie already had finished setting up everything. I planned to be the designated servant, cutting the cakes and pouring the punch, at least for the initial servings. From ten o'clock, when the party officially started, until the close of business, practically no work got done by most of the staff. Everyone knew better than to schedule meetings on days that holiday parties were held. Employees floated in and out of the main conference room, and sat around laughing and chatting as they ate and drank. The mood was just as festive as last year, and as I was warned, Janice heavily spiked the punch at eleven o'clock. There was music playing in the background, I was was enjoying myself more than I ever had in my life. I received twice as much attention as a maid than I did as a knight, and I was eating it up. I spent the entire workday being as feminine and subservient as I possibly could. I wiped up every little spill on the tables and picked up every crumb off the floor. I threw away any paper plates, napkins, or plastic cups left behind. I offered to serve refills to all of the staff, and replaced the garbage bags as they filled. I had my broom and dustpan handy, as well as the obligatory feather duster. I brought everything from the breakroom refrigerator to the conference room and back, as needed. I wouldn't let any of the other employees help clean or serve, and I followed every order given to me (although most "orders" were just polite requests). As I was walking by to get my broom to sweep up some cookie crumbs, one of the high-ranking executives, Alisha Madison, snapped her fingers at me twice and beckoned me over. She was dressed as a vampire, and sitting with a group of three other women, all of whom had sampled the punch one too many times. It was clear that Alisha was testing my resolve to remain in character, and the other women found it quite entertaining. "Maid!" "Yes, Mistress Alisha?" I humbly replied and curtsied, eliciting giggles. "Maid, it appears that I've managed to scuff the toe of one of my shoes while sucking my last victim dry, and this is my favorite pair of pumps. Be a good girl and buff that out for me, will you?" The other women started snickering, but Alisha played it straight. She crossed her legs, aiming one of her pumps at me. She pointed down to it and glanced at me with an air of superiority. "Yes, Mistress, right away!" I replied, getting down on my hands and knees at her feet. Party or not, we still were in an office environment, so there was a limit to how far she could test me. In fact, I took it as a challenge to take the scene past her comfort level, to the extent that I could. I pulled a cloth from a pocket in my apron, and began to buff the toe of her black patent leather, high heeled pumps. Of course, they were in perfect condition, without a mark on them, but I role played it hard. "Oh, dear, Mistress!" Still on my knees at her feet, I looked up at her with the most servile expression and voice that I could muster. "It doesn't seem to be buffing out. If it pleases you, I'll go fetch some mink oil, a horsehair brush, and a proper buff cloth. I can have both of your pumps shining like new within a few minutes, Mistress Alisha." I kept a shoe shine kit in a drawer in my office, for emergencies. Alisha accepted my challenge, and waived me away with the back of her hand. "Yes, yes, girl. Get to it and be quick about it. I have victims waiting, and their blood won't suck itself!" The other women were delighted with our little scene. I scurried out and returned as quickly as I could. All of them, including Alisha, were surprised that I actually brought all of the items that I mentioned, and that I intended to shine Alisha's shoes, on my knees, right there in the middle of the party. As I curtsied and knelt again, I saw Katie and Janice out of the corner of my eye. They were at the other end of the room, whispering to each other and smiling while watching me... well, Janice was smiling. "Mistress, with your permission, I'll remove your shoes, so as to avoid getting mink oil on your undead feet." The three other women were howling with drunken laughter, but to her credit, Alisha kept pace with me. "Permission granted, maid. But don't dally!" I gently removed both of her pumps, and proceeded to shine them as though I were her paid servant. I even buffed both of the four inch [10cm] stiletto heels in a blatantly suggestive manner, to the delight of our audience. The other women were on my side now, teasing Alisha and whispering naughty suggestions to her. By this time, we had a much larger audience, so I poured it on. "Mistress Alisha, please forgive me, I don't mean to sound impertinent, but after wearing such high heels all day, your feet must be very tired. Before I replace your gorgeous pumps, would you care for a foot massage? I'm told I'm quite talented." Most employees in the room heard me, and many of them burst out laughing, while a few others were daring Alisha to take me up on it. I noticed that she was blushing, and it didn't help that her boss, James Rinehart, was watching her with his eyebrows raised. Alisha conceded defeat. "No, that will be all, maid; but you did an excellent job. You're dismissed." The crowd playfully teased Alisha for wimping out, but after I replaced her shoes, stood, and curtsied, she respectfully bowed to my ability to stay in character. She was a good sport, and wasn't trying to be mean. I minced my way over to Janice and Katie, who were impressed with my performance. Janice handed me some punch, and the three of us touched our cups together before downing the contents in one collective gulp. That scene had been the peak of the party, which continued on for a bit, but started to die down over the next hour or two. It was a huge success, and for the second year in a row, I, still the relatively new employee, was the star attraction. Even though I was exhausted, I hated to see it end. With help from a few other employees who refused to let me go at it alone, I began the cleanup, with this year's two organizers, Katie and Janice, directing traffic. We tucked away all of extra tables and the decorations that belonged to the company into the storage room, but Janice had some of her own things to load into her car, and she recruited Katie and me to help her. Janice had moved her car near the building's side door, and the three of us loaded everything into her trunk and back seat. The angel gave both of us hugs and sped off, because she had a date. Katie and I had all of our things with us, and she offered to help me carry my bags and walk me to my car "for protection." We still were dressed as a devil and a maid, and I'm sure we were quite the sight. It was the most fun I've had ever had in my life, and I felt that Janice and Katie might be the two closest friends that I had... although Katie still was a bit hard to read. We arrived at my car and got everything tucked away. "Thank you so much, Katie. I appreciate your help. Not just here, but all day. You and Janice did a great job organizing everything, and you two made things a lot easier and more fun for me." I was about to hug her and say goodnight, but she spoke, in her usual monotone voice. "Michelle, we're officially off the clock and out of the office building. May I have your permission to say something personal to you that would be completely inappropriate if said in our professional environment?" "Yes, sure Katie," I answered, being wholly unprepared for that question and even less prepared for the invitation that followed. "I don't often date. I rarely think about men, or women, romantically. I usually keep to myself, despite Janice's attempts to get me to be more social." "Ah, she's going to hit on me!" I thought to myself. "Masturbation usually keeps me sexually satisfied, so that I don't need to make a fool of myself socially, as most people do during sexual courtships. But, seeing you dressed as a maid today triggered my normally suppressed fetish for trannies. As a man, you bore me, as do most persons; but as a passive woman with a cock, I find you to be extremely fuckable. With your permission, I'd like to take to into my home tonight and rape you for several hours. I won't offer you coffee or small talk, just one-sided rape." I had no clue how to respond. I just stood still... dressed as a maid... in a dark parking lot... with a sexy monster. "Fair warning, I'll be rather selfish and brutal in bed, and it might be a bit painful, but I promise that I won't seriously injure you. Maybe by tomorrow morning, after I'm all raped-out, I'll be relaxed enough to talk to you and explain myself. I know how you sensitive types like conversation. It's the least I can do after taking your virginity." I thought I knew what the word "scary" meant when I woke up this morning, but I was wrong. How did she know so much about me... about everyone? It seems that Janice really was the angel of the two. "Look, I know what you're thinking." continued Katie. "Technically, it's not rape if I acquire your consent beforehand, but the law requires that I ask you first." That wasn't at all what I was thinking, but point taken. I thought that I had prepared for anything and everything by packing two totes and a suitcase, not to mention stashing a .45 in the glove compartment. Yet, here I was, completely lost. Sensing my confusion, she sweetened the pot. "What if I promise to keep my boots and succubus wings on?" "Deal!" I agreed, without hesitation, hoping to catch her off guard for a change, and make her laugh. I didn't, but I think she gained a sliver of respect for me. Actually, I was hoping that a little humor would calm my own fear, but I still was nervous. She winked, and then she actually smiled at me. Somehow, that didn't help, but I was committed to seeing this through. How could I say "no" to a Russian succubus-devil-secretary woman-thing who talked to me like that? "Follow me in your vehicle. We both know that you've had plenty of practice driving in high heels, but I'll drive slowly anyway. I don't want you to lose your way and get kidnapped by an angel. Janice really wants to fuck you." Chapter 4 - Night of the Succubus I awoke late the next morning feeling like I had been mugged in a thunderstorm and left for dead in a ditch. While Katie has a very dry and dark sense of humor, she wasn't exaggerating about raping me. Both I and the bedsheets were drenched in a combination of sweat and various other bodily fluids, most of which I assumed were Katie's. That included a fair amount of blood, as she was on her period. True to her word, the high heeled boots and succubus wings stayed on all night, as did her horns. I sensed Katie walking by. How long had she been up? "Put these on before you leave the bed, and walk straight to the shower. I don't want you tracking my menstrual blood all over the carpet, unless you need another excuse to play the maid again. Leave the dirty paper towels on the bed." Katie place some plastic booties, the type surgeons wear, on a side table, next to a roll of paper towels, so that I could wipe my hands a feet. This, from a woman who claims she doesn't date often? I rolled over, toward the table, but the soreness was unbearable. I still needed a few months of rest before attempting something as ambitious as a shower. The sun was in my face, pestering me to get up, but that was asking a lot right now. I thought about what I had just been through. I remember Katie leading me inside what appeared to be the basement of her house after we parked our cars around the back. It was dark outside, but her house appeared to be much larger than I expected for a secretary's salary. The only lights that were on inside were ultraviolet, and even they were turned down low. She led me straight to this bedroom and started undressing me. The bed appeared to have been built for raucous activity rather than sleeping. There was no conversation, no hugging, no kissing... it really was more like rape than consensual sex, although I had consented. Katie did just about everything I could imagine to me, without killing me. Physically, she's much stronger and more athletic than she looks. She twisted and folded my body into positions that I thought were impossible, and she wasn't gentle during any of it. She made me give her head while she bled and came all over my face. She made me lick her ass, not just her rim, but deeply inside. She gave me a blowjob using her teeth. She forced me to deep throat her strap-on dildo, then she flipped me over and pegged me for what seemed like hours on end, with strap-ons as well as hand-held dildos and vibrators. She urinated on me, and in my mouth. At various times, she smacked me, slapped me, gagged me, collared me, spanked me, blindfolded me, suffocated me, tied me up, and strangled me. A couple of times, she mounted my cock, both vaginally and anally, and attempted to grind my skeleton through the mattress, the bed's steel frame, the floor, and the concrete foundation of the house. She force- fed me my own cum, as well as her own various bodily fluids, both with her hands and with something that looked like a turkey baster. Throughout the night, she shocked me with a stun gun or whipped me with a flogger if I put up even the slightest resistance to anything that she wanted to do to me. And those are just the things I can remember, because there were a few patches where I blacked out for a moment. Now that I think about it, I also remember sobbing. Yeah, I did a lot of that. Between the office parking lot and my waking up this morning, Katie never said a single word. Eventually, I managed to gather enough strength to reach for the paper towels and booties, and I somehow dragged myself to the adjoining bathroom to shower off. I stayed in the shower for over an hour, scrubbing off the sin and shame, and trying to figure out why I would let someone do those things to me... and why I liked it. I must have the lowest self-esteem a human being is capable of having. I've been so lonely for so long, that I was willing to let the first woman who propositioned me have her way with me... what a way to lose my virginity. And how did she know that I was a virgin? I finally got out and dried off, still feeling sore, bruised, confused, and physically spent. On the bathroom counter was my makeup kit, one of my wigs, and various toiletries from my car. On a bench was my purse, my casual dress, a clean bra and panties, my jewelry, and the gold flat sandals that I had packed in my suitcase. I hadn't noticed those things on my way in, nor did I hear anyone enter the bathroom while I was showering, but there they were. Clearly, Katie had been all through my car and decided how she wanted me to appear this morning. When did she have the time, and how did she have the energy after last night? Putting on my makeup, and jewelry, I realized that my face was the only part of me with no visible bruises. I had no idea where my maid uniform or hair extensions were, but the wig Katie chose was a good match for the casual floral print dress and flats. I sprayed on some perfume, rubbed some lotion on my hands, slung my purse over my shoulder, and ventured out to face Katie. I heard talking coming from the basement den, and I assumed that Katie was watching television. Not remembering my way, I followed the sound, and there was Katie on the sofa, with Janice, eating breakfast and watching some pornographic video. Janice saw me first. "Hey, Michelle! Good morning! Well, it's actually good afternoon, now," she smiled, full of energy. "Katie was just showing me your rape from last night." Katie elbowed Janice. "Hey, watch, this is my favorite part." "What?!" I shouted, as I ran to stand behind the sofa, overlooking the whole scene. "That's... you recorded us? And you two are watching that over breakfast?!" Katie finally spoke to me, in her usual, matter-of-fact voice, while still focusing on the 80 inch [203cm] screen. "You're very good at being fucked." "Oh, um, thank you," I hoped that my sarcastic tone had registered. "If you want more rape, you have an open invitation; but you'll have to dress and act like the bitch you really are whenever you come over. We both know you're not a real man; and now that I've had you as a bitch, that's the only way I'll tolerate you. Whatever lie you have to live at work to pay the bills is your problem; keep it at the office. Outside of Jan, with whom I share everything, I don't rape and tell, so you can count on my discretion in professional environments. I'm counting on your discretion, as well. Don't disappoint me." "Thanks again. I'll... I'll keep your offer in mind. And, yes, I'll... I'll also be discreet." I quickly toned down my attitude, being surprised by her words. "Call first. Don't just show up." "Oh, yes, of course. What's your number?" "It's already in your contacts." I reached into my purse and looked it up on my phone. Sure enough, there it was... her name, creepy photo, street address, email address, and phone number. But my cell phone was locked the whole time. "Hey, how did you...?" "I'm Katie." I nervously laughed. "Oh, yes. Silly me." Of all the spooky things she'd done in the past twenty-four hours, that one sent the most chills up my spine. "This concludes our initial sexual encounter. I have other things to do today, so goodbye for now. Besides, you have plenty of jerking off to do when you get home, so I won't delay you any further." "Ah. You're too kind. Later, then." I started to leave. Janice blew her stack. "Katie, you beast! Michelle, don't you dare go anywhere! You come with me and we'll get you some breakfast. From what I've watched, you must be famished!" I looked at Katie, to gauge her reaction. She finally made eye contact with me, and her toned softened. "I had assumed you'd rather go, but if you actually want to stay and spend time with us today, you're welcome in my home anytime you're dressed as Michelle. Just follow Jan to the kitchen." "Thank you," I awkwardly replied. "If you want, we can even have a conversation later." "Actually, I'd like that." "Aw, you two are so dysfunctionally cute together!" Janice laughed. "C'mon honey, let's get you some food." There was a small kitchen around the corner from the den. For a basement, it was quite elaborate. Janice fixed me a plate of pancakes and sausages, with a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. We brought it all to the den, and the three of us snuggled on the sofa together for breakfast porn. Epilogue The video had ended, and Katie switched to a news channel and muted the television. While I found it bizarre and uncomfortable watching a video of myself being manhandled by Katie wearing a succubus costume while sitting with her and Janice, that breakfast hit the spot, and I started to feel alive again, though still tired and sore. "That was great... the breakfast, I mean. Which of you do I thank?" "Katie, mostly. She made the pancake batter, squeezed the juice, and brewed the coffee, while I cooked the bacon. We have a little more of everything, if you're still hungry." "I'm fine, but all of it was delicious. Thank you both." I still had no idea how Katie had time to do so much. I assumed she still hadn't slept at all. Janice leaned over and hugged me. "You're welcome honey. You sound like you're feeling better. Don't forget to stay hydrated," she said with a wink. "By the way, how did your date go last night," I asked. "Great, actually. We went to two parties, danced a lot, then went back to his place and fucked ourselves to sleep. Well, I slept for only about an hour, then I ducked out and came home. It was our third date, so he knows that I prefer to hit and run." "Oh, so you live here with Katie?" "Yep." "How did you two meet? Despite the fact that you two seem so different, you're always on the same wavelength, if you don't mind me saying so." Janice sighed. "That's an unusual story, which I'd rather not tell unless Katie signs off on it. It's going to be painful to hear." Katie gave Janice a single nod. "It was a freak tragedy." Again, Janice sighed. "Long story short, there was a high speed police car chase, and the criminal being chased ran over Katie's mom and killed her, right in front of Katie and her father. It came out of nowhere, and happened so fast, that..." Katie interrupted. "The car dragged her for a bit, and when her body dislodged, the rear wheel crushed her skull. I'll never forget that sound... or the sound of my father screaming and crying." Janice looked down, then back at me. "I was there, too, with my parents, and we saw it all. Katie and I were seven years old." Blindsided by the violent story, I was already crying, and Katie handed me a box of tissues. Janice continued. "I didn't know Katie at the time, but she was in my class at school, and I recognized her. As you can imagine, there was total chaos, with everyone screaming and running around. The car crashed down the street, the driver ran, and the police shot him dead (which we found out later). My parents were pulling me away, but I saw Katie's father bent over his wife's body, losing his mind. Then I saw Katie, still standing further back, where she was when it all started, just staring at her father. She wasn't moving or crying or anything." Katie broke in again. "My father's soul also died that day, it just took his body a few months to catch up. He already had a heart condition, and died of a heart attack within a year. Don't judge him for leaving me back there. His mind was fried after what he saw. He wasn't capable of being a functional parent after that. I couldn't process it either. After that, I wasn't capable of feeling much of anything." After a pause, Janice continued. "I don't know what I was thinking, but I pulled away from my parents and ran to Katie in the chaos. She looked like a zombie, completely expressionless, obviously in shock. I felt so sad for her... all I could think to do was hug her. I held onto her as tightly as I could and cried for her, because she wasn't able to. My parents caught up to us. I remember my father telling my mother to take us girls somewhere safe indoors, then my father ran to Katie's father, and managed to pull him away from the scene, with the help of a police officer. My father told him that Katie was safe, and that he'd take him to her. By that time, there were more sirens and police cars all over the place. The police were trying to control the scene and all of that. The rest of that day is pretty much a blur to me." Strangely enough, Katie was consoling me. I couldn't stop crying, and she put her arm around me. "Katie's only other relatives were overseas. My parents let Katie stay with us while her father was in and out of the hospital. After he died, they officially adopted Katie, and we became sisters. We've been inseparable ever since." I had gone through several tissues. "I'm so sorry, Katie. I never should've pried." I felt terrible for making them tell me that. Katie attempted to make me feel better. "It wasn't an inappropriate question. There's no way you could've known. I'm glad you know, though. You're the only person whom we've ever told." Janice put an arm around me, too. "Honey, it's O.K. Consider it an initiation ritual for being our new friend. It would've come up sooner or later, so you might as well know now." "Thanks. I also was wondering how you two came to work for our company, but I'm almost afraid to ask." Katie took over. "Fortunately, that's a more pleasant story to tell. My parents were wealthy... as in hundreds of millions. When my father died, his fortune was held in a trust until I was old enough to inherit everything. Jan and I went to high school and college together knowing that neither of us would ever have to work, so we studied whatever we wanted. I focused on information technology and psychology, whereas Jan studied sociology and philosophy. Jan's parents are financially well-off too, just not as much as mine were." "So, with all of that money and education, why are you two secretaries?" "I guess I'm just a people person," quipped Katie, with a straight face. "Yeah, that's it!" laughed Janice. "Katie, the socialite!" "To tell the truth, I was bored with life," continued Katie. "I never was suicidal, just jaded. I like BDSM, so I was a professional dominatrix for a little while. Unfortunately, the reality of a BDSM career wasn't as satisfying as the fantasy, at least not for me. I didn't know what else I wanted to do, but I knew other people who did know what they wanted to do. So, I started using some of my money, which was in the billions by then, to help get their ideas off the ground. I discovered that there was already an established thing called 'venture capitalism,' so that's what I did. Unlike whipping people for money, helping 'idea people' get their businesses going felt satisfying." "So, did you help fund our company?" "Yes. In fact I currently own fifty-five percent of it. James Rinehart and Adanya Okoturo, both of whom you know, and Bill Chase (who has since retired, but still owns ten percent), founded the company, but they struggled early on, and needed more capital than they could pool together among themselves. They didn't want to go public with an I.P.O., so they made it clear that they were looking for a silent partner. I found out about it and stepped in, through a holding company that I own, and funded half of their expansion... well, a little over half. I covertly inserted myself as a secretary so that I could keep an eye on my investment without getting in their way. They impressed me so much, that I wanted to be around people like them. Besides, I really like what the company is doing, and I think it has a chance to completely dominate the industry within a few years. So, I'm still working there, at least for now." Again, I was amazed. "That explains so much. No wonder you two always know what's going on. Do Adanya and James even know who you are?" "Not as far as I can tell, but they aren't fools. They know that I had references on my resume who were associated with the majority shareholder, so they probably suspect that I'm a plant, reporting to the holding company. With my off-putting personality, they wouldn't have hired me without such impressive connections." "Wow... so Janice, why are you there?" Katie spoke first. "I was lonely, so I talked Jan into working there too, at least until she figures out what she wants to do when she grows up." Janice stuck out her tongue at Katie. "Yeah, I was done with school, but like Katie, I really didn't know what I wanted to do, if anything. Mostly, I just shopped, fucked, and lounged by the pool out back. I have to admit, it's a cool place to work, and I actually feel productive. I wouldn't do it without Katie being there, though. She makes it fun. Plus, Adanya's a cool boss." There was a silence for half a minute or so, then Katie spoke up. "Michelle, I lied to you earlier. I didn't actually think you wanted to leave, although you probably will want to masturbate later." Janice was caught off guard, and almost spit out her juice laughing. That got me laughing, too. "I wanted you to leave because you've stirred feelings in me that I find confusing and unfamiliar. I don't know how to process them, so I tried to shoo you away so that I could think things through. That was rude of me, and I apologize. It's just that I'm not used to being confused, and it bothers me," confessed Katie. "You're not alone. I've been confused since you outed me in the conference room yesterday morning." Janice looked miffed. "Katie, what did you do to her?" Katie looked to me, allowing me to explain. "Katie figured out that the only reason I dressed as a knight last year was so that I could dress as a female this year without having everyone suspect that I'm a closet cross dresser. It just happened to be a maid costume, but it could've been anything feminine." Janice raised her eyebrows and flashed me a sympathetic smile. "Wow. And knowing Katie, I'm sure she hit you right between the eyes with it. No foreplay." "Exactly. It put me off balance all day, because she also seemed to be protective of me at the same time." "Ah. That explains why Katie was on the verge of pulling you away from Alisha. But I convinced her to let you handle it, which you did very well." I looked over at Katie. "You were going to rescue me?" "Something like that," Katie mumbled. "That confused me, too. You just seemed so..." "Vulnerable?" I offered. "Yes. And I couldn't stop looking at you all day. Granted, nor could anyone else, but I doubt they were thinking what I was thinking... or feeling. I figured that after I had my way with you last night, that my attraction to you would be purged out of my system, but I'm still drawn to you... even more now, actually. I hit you with everything I had, but you stayed there and took it all. You squirmed and sobbed a lot, which was to be expected; but you never begged me to stop, or tried to run away. Now, I realize that at some point, you'll have to go home, and I'll be sad that you're not here." Janice had to tease her. "It's what we humans call 'love,' Katie. I suppose there really is a first time for everything." Blushing, I silently hugged Katie's arm. After a few seconds, she stood, pulling me up with her, and kissed me on my forehead. "I'm finally sleepy," Katie announced. "Michelle, my actual sleeping bed is upstairs in the master bedroom. Assuming that you could use some sleep yourself, would you do me the honor of going to sleep next to me in my bed? Unlike me, it's warm and soft." "You two confused lovebirds go ahead," said Janice. "I'll clean up down here, then I'll turn in myself." I smiled at Katie and nodded my head. She took my hand and led me up the stairs.