Restroom Accommodations

Michelle's Story

Book One: Falling, Smooth and Pink

By Cindi J., Dallas Texas

Part 1 Typical of lunch hour, the restaurant was crowded and noisy. Three young ladies sat in a booth in the back or the dining area, sipping coffee. They talked in hushed, earnest voices, as if the subject were of a serious nature.

"Yes, it's true. And I've got the proof right here," said the young lady as she set various documents on the table. Lisa was strikingly pretty, with fair skin and jet black hair cut in a fashion made popular by the film Pulp Fiction. She wore a business woman's suit colored soft green, with a white blouse.

"Look, here they are. Four travel vouchers, all filed for the same month, all using photocopies of the same receipts, all with our signatures forged by Mike," said Lisa. "I tell you, the stupid guy tried to rip off the company. He figured that by putting our SSNs on the vouchers that nobody would ever know. And by putting his address on the vouchers, the checks went right to him. Then he would forge our signatures again on the checks, and deposit the endorsed checks into his bank account. Since we never travel, there wouldn't be any duplicate vouchers filed. And he would have gotten away with it, if I hadn't happened to notice my name showing up on the Accounts Payable listing."

"Unbelievable," exclaimed Josie, a young hispanic woman. Like Lisa, Josie was in her mid-twenties; she had a dark complexion and shoulder length hair so dark that it glistened under the restaurant's lighting. Not as professionally dressed as Lisa, Josie wore a pink dress with matching shoes.

"So, what are you gonna do," asked Mary. Mary was the tallest of the girls, almost 5 foot 9. She had long blond hair with a red ribbon tied in back; She wore a sexy, low-cut pink blouse and a short blue skirt. Mary was definitely able to turn any mans' head.

"Well, I was going to turn him in, but then I got to thinking. Mike has been such a jerk since he came to our unit. Always strutting around like a rooster in a hen house; always stealing the best assignments; always, well, you know, just acting like he deserves better treatment just because he's a guy," said Lisa.

"Don't we all know it," exclaimed Josie. "But he is the only guy working in the Payables Department, so I imagine he does consider himself as the number one rooster in our little henhouse."

"Until he came around, our department was just a great place to work," Mary added. "We had twelve women and no men. We girls weren't out trying to compete with each other. Then he came, and started acting as if he was god's gift to all of us. Always going around with his macho superior attitude. The pig!"

"Don't you know it," laughed Lisa. "Well, I think it's time that we cut off Mike's macho attitude."

"But how," Mary inquired.

"Listen, girls. I've got a plan," said Lisa.

Part 2 Sunday morning, while watching Meet The Press, I heard the phone ring. I had been up for an hour or two, had read most of the Sunday newspaper, and had settled back to enjoy a bit of political jostling on television.

"Yea, this is Mike. What's up," I said into the phone.

"Mike. This is Lisa. Say, my car won't start. Will you please come over and give my battery a jump."

"Lisa," I said. "What a surprise. But why are you calling me. You've always ignored me when I asked you out."

"Oh, come on, Mike. My house is only a few blocks away. Surely you can do me a favor, can't you."

"Well maybe, but I may require a little payment, if you know what I mean," I laughed.

Part 3 I was surprised to see three cars in Lisa's driveway as I approached. What the hell, I thought, why couldn't she get a jump from one of those cars? Lisa opened the door as I walked up to the house, and invited me in. I noticed she wore tight blue jeans which showed off her feminine figure. Inside, I was surprised to see two coworkers, Mary and Josie.

"Hey," I said to the three girls, "maybe I can jump start all three of you!"

"Shut up, bozo," replied Lisa, "and sit down. We've got something to talk about."

Part 4 "You're crazy! No way! I'm outa here!" My face was flushed from tension as I began to get up from the table.

"Fine," Lisa said. It's your choice; you can live with the consequences."

Damn, I thought, what will I do now? Surely the company will file charges against me, and I may even end up in jail. At the minimum I'll be fired and my career will cease to exist. All my studies, my years in college, all my work trying to get established, all for naught, just because I got greedy for a few extra bucks. I hesitated, then sat back down.

"OK, OK, you win. I'll do what you want," I said with a sigh of resignation.

"Smart decision, Jim. But just remember, you will do as we say, or else. Now, Jim, since you've become so adept at using a feminine persona when preparing travel reports, we've decided to give you a real, full fledged female persona. Jim, you're going to be a girl for awhile, just like us. You'll dress like us, act like us, and who knows, maybe even think like us. That would definitely be a worthwhile change, considering your innate macho arrogance."

"But wait," I stuttered, "you can't..."

"Shut up," Mary yelled. "Shut up and listen, or off to jail you go!"

"That's right," Lisa added. "Now do as I say. Go to the upstairs bathroom. You have a half hour to shower and shave. Not just your face, but everywhere. Legs. Arms, Underarms, Rear, Everywhere. Now go to it, girl."

Wide eyed but speechless, I rose from the chair and started walking up the stairs. This was all so crazy. Maybe the girls weren't serious. Maybe once I shaved they would make a little fun of me and then send me home. I could handle that. After all, anything was better than getting fired and going to jail.

Lisa's bathroom was large and decorated in a very feminine fashion, with flowered wall paper, thick pink throw rugs, and jars and bottles of women's toiletries all over. I stripped, then looked at myself in the mirror: I saw a man, average height (I was 5'9"), with a thin build. I tried to imagine what I would look like without body hair, but the idea was too strange to even imagine. I located an electric razor and a regular razor, and shaving lotion, and then I set to work on the task facing me.

Part 5 "Well, Lisa, it looks like you were right. He is going to do it after all," said Josie.

"I knew he would. Generally, guys that act tough are insecure inside. Jim's just scared shitless of his whole world crashing down on him if we turn him in. What he doesn't realize is that it's gonna crash anyhow. We'll see to that, won't we," Lisa said.

Part 6 Having removed all my body hair, I sat under the shower and watch the remaining loose hairs wash from me and flow down into the drain. I heard the bathroom door open.

"I've left your panties and your bra next to the sink. Put them on and come out so that we can see you. And Hurry," Lisa said.

I quickly got out of the shower and dried myself. Just as Lisa had said, my lingerie was on the counter. Picking up the panties, I noticed that they were soft pink in color, and had a triangle of lace in front. The panties were of a tight lycra material and fitted me very tight. Once I got the panties on I fumbled with the bra for a few minutes before giving up and leaving the bathroom with the pink bra still in my hand.

Blushing under the gaze of my coworkers as I stepped into the living room, I said to Lisa, "This thing is crazy. I have no idea how to put a bra on."

"Well, girl, you had better learn," exclaimed Lisa. "And you also had better adopt a better attitude, one more in keeping with your new role in life. So, from now on you will be shy and passive; you will always show deference to all women. That means you will ALWAYS address us by our title. If you speak to me, you address me as Miss Lisa. And if you don't like it, leave right now. Either face the consequences of your actions like a man, or get used to acting like a shy little girl.

"Yes, Miss Lisa," I replied after a long silence. So, I thought to myself, this is it. No turning back. I got myself into this, and now I must pay the consequences.

"So, what do you think? Is the new girl smooth enough? Or should we spread Nair all over her," Lisa said, addressing the others.

"Oh, yes," Josie said, "I'd say Mike is very smooth indeed. Such soft skin!" I felt a shiver through my body as Josie walked around me, inspecting me from head to foot.

"But Mike is no longer a fitting name for our little girl, is it," asked Mary. "How about Michelle. That's a very feminine name, don't you think. Well, what do you say, Michelle," she asked, looking at me, with a broad smile on her face.

"Yes, Miss Mary. That's fine," I said, not sure what kind of response Mary wanted from me.

"Good! Now, introduce yourself to us, girl," Mary commanded.

I swallowed hard, then forced out the words, "Hi. My name is Michelle."

"Michelle! Oh, what a pretty name," laughed Mary. "Tell us, Michelle, are you a boy or a girl?"

Anger seethed within me; I wanted to take Mary and..., teach her a lesson! But I couldn't. These women had me trapped. After a few moments I calmed down and responded, "I'm not a man. I'm a girl."

"And a sweet young thing at that, Michelle," Lisa chimed in. Now, girl, let's put your bra on. A girl shouldn't go around with her titties showing, you know." With that. Josie and Mary took the bra from me, had me hold my arms out, put the bra on me and fastened it securely in back. Obviously I lacked anything to fill it, which made me look even more ridiculous.

I felt foolish standing there in the middle of the room, hairless, in women's lingerie. What was next, I wondered.

"OK, Michelle," Lisa said, as if to answer my thought, "we're off to get you prettied up. We'll take my car. Let's go!"

"But, Miss Lisa," I replied, astonished, "I can't leave here. Not like this. Please, Miss Lisa!"

"Shut up, Michelle, and do as I say," Lisa commanded.

Luckily Josie came to my rescue. "Maybe Michelle is right. A girl shouldn't go outside dressed only in her lingerie. Lisa, do you have anything Michelle could slip on for the trip?"

I had hoped that Josie would talk the others out of this foolishness, but instead, the girls just agreed to let me wear one of Lisa's raincoats for the trip. The coat was colored a pale rose hue. I quickly donned it (anything was better than standing around like I was) and buttoned it up. My bare legs still showed, and considering the fact that it wasn't cold or raining outside, I still looked odd, to say the least, but overall it was better than crossing town wearing only lingerie.

Part 7 Quickly I shut the car door, then crouched low in the seat. I wanted no one to see me; after all, with my fairly short hair and lack of makeup and breasts, it was clear to anyone that I was a male; a man with bare, hairless legs wearing a girl's coat. Luckily no neighbors had been outside to see my exit from Lisa's house. Josie sat with me in the back seat; Mary sat in front while Lisa drove.

During the trip the girls talked about work, movies, and fashions, all the while ignoring my presence completely. Meanwhile, I became increasingly fearful of what was in store for me. Finally, after fifteen minutes of being ignored, I gathered the courage to ask about my fate.

"Miss Josie," I said, "where are we going? What is going to happen to me? Please help me, Miss Josie. You know, I was never mean to you at work, was I?"

Josie paused for several moments before responding. "Well Michelle, you were never very nice to me at work either, were you? But that's OK, I'll tell you what you want to know, although it doesn't matter. What's gonna happen is gonna happen. Neither you nor I can really change that now. You shouldn't have tried to steal from the company, and you sure shouldn't have done it using our names!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Josie," I pleaded.

"OK. Like I said, it's too late now. But don't worry, your so-called punishment will actually be kinda fun. You are going to Loretta's, a women's specialty shop down in the Turtle Creek area. It's a really nice place; they do everything from makeovers to selling lingerie and nice clothes. It's rather expensive, but that's OK, you'll be paying with your credit card. I tell you, any of us girls would simply love spending an afternoon at Loretta's, getting pampered and buying nice fashionable clothes. Indeed, Michelle, if this is punishment, I only wish that I could be punished in such a manner!"

"You mean I'll be treated..."

"Michelle," Josie interrupted sharply, "have you forgotten how to address me already?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Josie," I replied, biting my tongue in frustration. "Miss Josie, what will happen to me at Loretta's?"

"Oh, don't worry, they will treat you well, just like they treat all the young ladies that shop there," she replied. "Look, Michelle, we're here!"

Sure enough, Lisa had pulled into a parking lot across the street from a shopping center. Loretta's was in the middle of the center. Before I knew it the girls had gotten out of the car and were starting across the street. I had no choice but to follow.

Feeling foolish, I got out of the car and walked swiftly to catch up with the girls. We had to wait a moment for the light to change before crossing the street. Dressed as I was, I couldn't help but imagine that every occupant of every car was staring at me with bewilderment.

Part 8 Loretta's was a fancy clothes shop. Racks of expensive clothes were everywhere. Full length mirrors were scattered throughout the store. Far in the back was a small salon and an adjoining tea room. A clerk was standing behind a cosmetics counter near the door; she was young, probably still a teenager, had long blond hair, deep blue eyes, and wore a red blouse, short black skirt, a gold necklace and bracelets. Her name tag read "Amanda".

Amanda was staring at me when we reached her counter. "Hi," Lisa said, "my friend here, Michelle (she nodded towards me) would like to get a full makeover, if you have an opening. She also would like assistance in selected several nice outfits, as well as accessories, jewelry, makeup, and lingerie. Heck, Michelle needs the works, if you know what I mean. Don't you, Michelle?"

"Yes," I said quietly, "I do."

"Yes..., Amanda said after thinking for a few moments. "Sunday is not our busiest day. We'll be able to get started right away, if you prefer."

"Great! Michelle will really like this," exclaimed Mary with a giggle.

"Here is Michelle's credit card. She prefers to charge everything," Lisa said as she handed my Mastercard to Amanda.

Amanda looked at card, then at me. "Mike Jackson. This is your card?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied with my eyes cast down.

"Mike..., I guess you prefer to go by the name Michelle," Amanda asked with a smile.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied sheepishly.

"Well, Mike, Michelle is a very pretty name. And we'll have you looking very pretty too, before long. Yes, we'll get you looking like the girl of your dreams, Michelle," Amanda exclaimed.

At that point the girls had me go to the salon and have a seat. "Bye, Michelle," Josie said after I had sat down. "We are going out to lunch and a movie. We'll pick you up afterwards. Enjoy your makeover, girl!"

The girls and Amanda left me sitting alone; I couldn't hear what they were saying, but apparently my coworkers were giving Amanda instructions on what to do with me. Still shellshocked by all that had happened, I sat alone, shivering and frightened, wearing only Lisa's coat and lingerie, awaiting my makeover. I considered just leaving and taking the rap, but how could I? The girls had left me stranded here, miles from home; and besides, the threat of jail and unemployment was still all too real.

Part 9 After about ten minutes Amanda approached me, accompanied by a fashionably dressed middle-aged woman. "Hi, Michelle, Amanda said, "this is Jeanette. Together, we will try to make you into a beauty."

"Hello, Jeanette," I said, casting my eyes downward in embarrassment over my situation.

"Hello Michelle," Jeanette said cheerfully. "Your friends say that you'd like to cross the bridge, so to speak, and become a woman. I must admit that your request is a bit odd. We don't get many males coming in here, you know. But we will do our best to help you realize your dream. By the time you leave here you will be a smartly dressed young lady," she said as she took my hand and helped me remove Lisa's coat. I stood there, hairless and naked save for Lisa's bra and panties, as the two women looked me over. Both appeared momentarily shocked and embarrassed at the sight of me, but they soon regained their composure.

"Luckily for you, Michelle, you are not large. I know many women who are taller than you. And you are not at all muscular, I see. Yes," Jeanette continued, talking to herself more than to me, "your body has feminine possibilities, to be sure. Tall and thin, just like a model, you are. You will need to wear a bit of hip padding..., it'll give you girlish curves; and of course you'll need breasts. But we have that right here. Silicon to replace what God forgot. Yes, Michelle, you'll make a fine girl. Now here, put on this smock for us. We can't have you standing around in your lingerie all day, now can we."

Gratefully I took the pink smock from Jeanette and put it on. Although it was clearly a feminine garment, with a bit of lace trim about the hem, it nonetheless hid my gender-blurred body from view.

"Michelle," Amanda asked as Jeanette led me to a salon chair, "I was just wondering. Do you have, you know...., well,...., what real men have between their legs?"

"Ah..., yes, Miss Amanda, I suppose I do..." I replied, blushing a bit.

"You do," she replied in a voice expressing surprise. "I didn't know. I thought maybe you had it removed or something. Well, Michelle, when are you going to have it removed?"

"Good question," added Jeanette. "With a name like Michelle, you'd surely be much happier with a vagina, wouldn't you?"

Clearly put on the spot by their pointed questions, I hesitated before responding. "Well, I suppose you are right, Miss Jeanette. But that's a big change that I'm not, well, really ready for that yet, don't you think?"

"No, I don't agree at all," Jeanette said. "I say go for it. Believe me, you'll feel much more comfortable once you have real breasts, and once you replace your thing with a vagina."

"Oh, yes," Amanda quickly added. "You'll get used to it. I mean, the only big difference is that you'll have to sit down to pee," she laughed.

"After all, Michelle," Jeanette continued, "if you were a real man, you wouldn't be here right now getting your nails done, would you?" She had already begun to work on my fingernails, shaping them, gluing, and I don't know what else.

"I suppose not," I replied somewhat gloomily. "I suppose that if I were a real man, I wouldn't be here at all, would I?"

I sure can't imagine my boyfriend sitting in here like you are, Michelle," Amanda said. "No, you're not a real man, that's for sure. But we'll make you into a nice looking girl before long. Tell us, Michelle, if you don't mind me being nosy, do you have a boyfriend of your own?"

"No, Miss Amanda, no," I replied, somewhat upset about the implications of her question. But then, what was she to think? No, her question wasn't out of line; it was I who was raising their questions just by being here.

"Don't worry, Michelle," Jeanette said. "When you leave here today, you'll be so cute that men will be on you like bees on honey. It would help, though, if you would get your own vagina. When it comes to a long term relationship with a man, that thing between your legs could definitely botch up your chances. Really, Michelle, you had better start thinking seriously about it."

"Yes, Miss Jeanette," I replied. Then, hoping to change the topic of conversation, I asked her what all was on today's agenda.

"Michelle, your friends have asked that you be given our princess treatment. I hope you realize how lucky you are to have such caring friends. It won't be easy for you to become a woman. They'll be able to help you in a lot of ways. But, to get back to your question, this is what we have planned. After your manicure and pedicure, we'll fit you with a pretty wig. Then we'll work on your breasts, and size you up with nice silicone inserts. You'll have to use those until you get your own titties, girl," she laughed.

"And while you're there in our lingerie department," Amanda said, interrupting Jeanette, "it'll be time to select your unmentionables. We girls love nice, feminine lingerie, don't we? We'll fit you with several bras and let you select your favorite styles of panties; judging from what you were wearing when you came, you obviously love pink, and lots of frilly lace!"

I sat in disbelief as the two women continued. I saw myself slipping into a new reality from which I would not be able to extricate myself. This was all going so far! I knew Lisa intended to punish me, but to what lengths would she go? I accepted that the three girls would humiliate me, but I had hoped it was for just today. After all, we all had to get back to normal tomorrow for work. So why all this? What was Lisa thinking?

"And we'll also give you some nice hip padding, just to enhance your feminine shape a bit," Amanda continued.

"Yes, Michelle," said Jeanette, "you'll need all your padding properly in place, because after that we'll be helping you select several nice outfits. Your friends gave us a pretty good idea on what you'll need, starting with several dresses, several skirts, white and pink blouses, all office-appropriate, of course."

"What do you mean, office appropriate," I asked.

"Oh, you know, something you can wear to work, of course. Obviously a girl can't wear a halter top to work, can she? Just nice, conservative clothing, rather like Amanda and I are wearing," Jeanette said.

"And don't worry, Michelle, you'll also get to select a few casual outfits, too. But your friend Mary says no slacks or jeans. She says you don't like those. I guess you like the feel of skirts, don't you," Amanda said, giggling a bit as she watched me, seated at the salon chair, wearing my pink smock, while Jeanette finished up with my nails.

"And, of course, you'll go to our shoe department to pick out several pairs of nice high heels, and to the accessories department to pick out a purse, maybe two, and finally to cosmetics for mascara, lipstick, foundation, as well as a quick course on how you'll apply your makeup. And perfume. You'll want to both look like a girl and smell like a girl, won't you?"

"And all these were Lisa's ideas," I asked, dumbstruck by what she was forcing upon me.

"No, not really," Amanda said, grinning like a cat. "Your friends said that this was all your idea, but that you were a little too embarrassed to come here by yourself. You know, Michelle, you don't really need to be ashamed. Men are not really superior to us, are they? You should be proud of the fact that you want to be, and will be, a girl. You don't need to be so shy about your dreams!"

I couldn't tell whether Amanda meant to belittle me with her lecture. Soon she returned to the front of the store, as Jeanette worked on my pedicure, then on my face. I felt her plucking my eyebrows and started to protest, but didn't. It was too late now. I didn't want Lisa to turn me in tomorrow.

Jeanette gave me a women's magazine, "Glamour", to read while she worked on me. Several times I noticed Amanda walk by the salon with other ladies; from the way they talked in hushed tones and took hurried glimpses of me, it was clear to me that Amanda was showing me of to other customers, as if I were just a pet. I was actually a bit relieved when, at last, Jeanette fitted me with a wig; at least with the wig on my head I wouldn't be instantly recognized as a male. Jeanette tried several wigs on me, then had me use the mirrors to look myself over. To be honest, I was amazed how feminine I looked. She had applied makeup to my face, arched and shaped my eyebrows, and applied bright red lipstick. My hands now had long, shaped nails, also painted bright red.

"I must say, dear, that you look just beautiful," Jeanette said as she stepped back to inspect her creation. She had placed an auburn wig on me, one softly shaped in a feminine manner, with the hair coming down to about an inch above my shoulders. "What do you think, Melissa, do you like it?"

"Yes, this one is very nice," I replied truthfully.

"Indeed it is, girl. Well, you've got a good start on realizing your dream, princess. Next stop is the lingerie department. I just know you'll like it there. Come on, girl, let's go!"

Part 10 I stood up and followed Jeanette. The lingerie department was near the other back corner. We passed through the Tea Shop, where two women about my age were having coffee and cheese cake. They quit speaking when they saw us pass; from the way I walked, as well as my flat chest, they were easily able to recognize my true gender.

Jeanette reached the lingerie department with me, still dressed in the pink smock, closely in tow. Another woman was waiting there; she was about 30 years old, hispanic, petite, and like all the employee's at Loretta's, very finely dressed. Wearing a simply styled black dress highlighted by a thick gold necklace, she welcomed Jeanette by warmly grasping her hand and kissing her on her cheek. I noticed the wedding ring on her finger had a very large diamond inset.

"Hi, Maria," Jeanette said warmly. "Let me introduce Michelle. She's here getting our full princess treatment. I just finished with her nails and makeup, and now Michelle would like you to help her select some pretty lingerie, isn't that right, Michelle?"

"Yes, Miss Jeanette, that's right," I replied, trying to look as casual as possible, as if my situation was not at all out of the norm.

"Well, Michelle....," Maria said as she closely looked me over from head to toe, "I see...., and how exactly can I help you first?"

My air of self-assurance quickly disappeared under the gaze of Jeanette and Maria. "I don't know," I stuttered, "I suppose that first I'll need, ah..., well I'll need...breasts..., female breasts...you know."

"Whoa! Michelle needs female breasts," Maria said in mock seriousness. "You are lacking a bit in your feminine development, I see. Not a lot of cleavage on you, girl. But OK. Jeanette, you've brought me a real challenge this time, but I'll do my best to make Michelle here into a true princess. Michelle, take off your smock and let's get started."

"Right here, out in the open? Can't we go into the fitting room for this," I pleaded.

"Oh, no. It's too cramped in a fitting room, and besides, girl, you'll have to get used to this, you know. I assume you are planning to become a full-time woman," she asked as she lifted my pink smock over my head, leaving me standing there in the middle of the lingerie department, hairless, wearing only panties and a bra with empty cups, although now with makeup and wig. Embarrassed to be exposed in such a manner, I wanted to run for cover and leave, but I knew I had no place to go, no clothes to wear.

"Well, I suppose so, Miss Maria," I replied, "but still, this is embarrassing to be out where everyone can see me."

"Michelle, if you are so concerned about being embarrassed, why are you wearing a bra and panties", she asked. "Are you a man or are you a woman, Michelle?"

Good question, I thought. Even I wasn't sure what I was anymore. "I'm a....., woman. I'm a woman," I replied, not wanting to admit I was a man in girl's clothes, even though such was obvious to Maria.

"So, Michelle is a woman? Good! Then you needn't feel funny about being fitted for your new bras, should you? Now I could see why a man would be very embarrassed to be wearing a bra and panties in public. I know my husband would never be seen in such a situation. But then, he is a real man. He doesn't shave his legs and wear mascara like women do. He has thick hair on his chest and underarms. Us girls don't have hair like that, do we? For example, Michelle, your chest is as smooth and soft as a peach, and you haven't a trace of underarm hair. But then, Michelle, that's because you are a woman, isn't that so?" As she talked, she used a tape measure to determine the size of my hips, waist, and chest; meanwhile, Jeanette left us to return to her own department.

"Yes, ma'am. I am a woman," I replied; after all, how could I claim a place in manhood looking as I now did?

"OK, young lady, then let's get you some breasts! Here," she said as she handed me a lacy bra, "put this on while I go in back to get them." With that, Maria disappeared through a door to the storeroom. I stood there for a moment, uncertain of what to do, then started struggling to remove Lisa's bra. Just as I got the bra off, Amanda came by together with the two women that I had passed in the tea room.

"Hey, Michelle, she said loudly, "you're looking nice, girl! A bit flat chested, though," she joked.

"Yes, Amanda," I replied, trying to portray a calm demeanor as I worked on getting the new bra onto my chest, "but Maria's promised to fix that."

"I'm sure you'll look stunning, Michelle," she said, giggling, as she and the two customers walked away.

Maria came out from the storeroom carrying two white boxes. "Oh, you've got your bra on already, I see. You must wear bras often, don't you? Well, here are your new charms," she said as she opened the boxes to reveal two soft, skin colored objects, each the size and shape of a woman's breast. I couldn't help but blush bright red as Maria inserted the one, followed by the other, into the bra's cups. Just like that I was as full breasted as most any girl. "Go ahead, Michelle, move around a bit, feel them, see how you like being blessed with a female body," Maria commanded.

Still blushing, I walked about a bit, wiggled my chest, and even felt my new breasts with my hands. As I looked into the full length mirror I could tell that now I did appear, at first glance at least, to be a woman. Rather than feeling humiliated by this, I actually felt a bit better; being perceived by others as just another woman was far better than being perceived by them as a man dressed like a girl. Next she led me to a dressing room where I donned some type of girdle; it was long, extending from my waist to a couple of inches onto my thighs, made of sturdy lycra, and padded in the hip and buttocks area. This garment was white and covered with white lace. Once on, it was so tight that my maleness was squeezed out of sight. After donning this garment I returned to Maria, who waited for me in the lingerie department.

"Well look at you now," she exclaimed as I approached, "such a feminine figure you have, Michelle!"

"Thank you, Maria," I said with sincerity. "This is much better. Maybe people won't stare so much now."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Michelle," Maria said. "You'll still get stares, at least from men," she laughed. "But, now that we've got you shaped right,

let's set you up with some cute and lovely unmentionables. I just know that a girl like you loves shopping for lingerie, don't you?"

"Well, I really haven't done this before," I responded.

"Sure you haven't, Michelle. Somehow I can't help but question that. I bet you've worn panties since you were a little girl, or should I say boy?"

"No, Miss Maria," I said, reverting back into the submissive mode as her questions shredded my masculinity.

"Oh, Michelle, how can you say that. Here, look at these," she said, holding up a pair of lacy pink panties, "they are so frilly, so pretty, so girlish! You must love to wear nice feminine items like these, otherwise you wouldn't be here. But don't worry, Michelle, being a woman is a blessing from God. Being female is much better than being male. I tell you, Michelle, I never once wished that I were a man! But now, let's get busy, girl, or you'll be here all day!" With that, we began to select numerous items, including bras, panties, slips, half-slips, and even a frilly pink nightgown; often I would have to slip on an article to allow Maria to fit it properly. All the while Maria kept chattering, explaining, for example, that my bras must fit properly so that my breasts wouldn't sag like "an old woman's"; that I must always remember to move with controlled, feminine movements; and always interjecting embarrassing comments about how I would be so happy as a female.

Part 11 Once finished in the lingerie department, we moved on to the Misses Department, where both Maria and Amanda took turns in selecting a number of outfits for me. Initially I tried to influence things, thinking that perhaps I could negotiate into buying clothes of a more or less unisex nature. Amanda first took me into the "working women" area and showed me what was available; as a man whose dress was limited to, basically, gray suits or blue suits with white shirts, I was surprised and confused by the variety of office wear available to women, something I had never realized before today.

"Oh, Michelle, isn't this all just so exciting," Amanda gushed after the tour. "It's hard for a girl to know where to start. But you're the customer, and around here, the customer is the queen! What strikes your fancy, girl?"

Damn, I thought to myself, I wish they would stop calling me girl all the time! They knew full well I wasn't a girl. But I said nothing; dressed as I was now in lacy white lingerie, including a slip and sheer pantyhose, I probably couldn't expect to be called sir.

"Well, Amanda," I stammered, averse to selecting Misses outfits for me to wear, "how about this suit over here?" I selected a nice, gray women's suit, with double breasted jacket and tailored slacks, and held it up for Amanda to see.

"Are you kidding, Michelle," Amanda said with exasperation. "Here we are busting our fannys to make you into a sexy lady, and you want to wear that! No way, girl. Come over here!" Amanda grasped my hand and led me across the aisle, and within a minute she too had selected a women's business suit, only this was was a soft rose color, and had a short, pleated skirt instead of the slacks of the previous one. "Now when you wear this, Michelle, you'll present the image of a professional woman who is secure in her femininity. Other women will look at you and think "educated professional" while men will look at you and think "cute and sexy"! You can have it both ways, girl!"

After selecting a lacy white blouse, Amanda accompanied me to the dressing area and helped me put on my new outfit. I thought how, before today, undressing in front of a girl would be for both me and the girl a very sexually charged action, but here I was, changing clothes in front of this very cute young lady, and she was not in the least bothered. In fact, it was obvious that Amanda saw my predicament as amusing. Clearly I was no longer, in her eyes, a male; while she may not have considered me a true female, neither did she think of me as a man dressed as a woman. Maybe she thought of me as a type of eunuch, I don't know. But the tension that normally seperates male from female had vanished; Amanda no longer considered me as the opposite sex.

When I looked into the full length mirror, I saw what appeared to be a rather normal looking woman. Seeing my legs exposed beneath the short skirt (which came to at most four inches above my knees) was embarrassing; the short skirt, with its pleats, looked like something a high school cheerleader would wear.

"Miss Amanda," I said, "maybe this suit is just a bit too..., a...., you know, too feminine. Especially with this short skirt. I just feel uncomfortable in it."

"Oh, don't worry, Michelle, you'll get used to it very soon. Believe me, you look really sexy! You know, your friend Lisa warned me that you might resist the best fashions, but she wisely says that we must get you dressed properly. If you buy clothes that you'll consider stale after you wear them once, then you'll be wasting a lot of money. Now this suit looks so nice on you, you'll always enjoy wearing it. OK, Michelle, we have a lot to do, so quit fighting me like a little girl."

"Yes, Miss Amanda," I said unenthusiastically, "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am, Michelle. But before we can continue, you've got to get shoes on. It's too hard to make a proper judgement on clothes unless you are wearing your high heels. Come with me."

Amanda led me across the store to the `shoes and accessories' department, where a young man was stocking a shipment that had just arrived.

"Michelle, this is John," Amanda said, introducing me to the young man, "he's the manager of the shoe department, although I work here myself occasionally, so I'll be able to assist you here." John looked to be about 25, was of medium build and height, and conservatively dressed in white shirt and tie.

"John, this is Michelle," Amanda continued, smiling. "She's getting our princess treatment today. She needs several pairs of shoes."

"Pleased to meet you, Michelle," John said to me. "I'm sure you'll find many styles you'll like here. Amanda and I will show you all you need. Besides", he glanced at Amanda with a grin, "I'm rather partial to Amanda, so I'll really enjoy working with both of you."

"Quit flirting with me on the job, John, cause you'll never get anywhere," she said with a coy grin. Apparently John and Amanda liked each other a bit.

"Michelle, that's a very nice looking suit you've selected. I would suggest these beige pumps would go well with that suit," John said as he showed me a shoe that was on display. It was an open toed shoe with a 2 or 3 inch high heel, and a tiny bow on top the toe section.

I sat down as John measured my foot and went to get a pair in my size. "See, Michelle, John just thinks you're a regular girl. Aren't you proud of how cute a girl you've become today," Amanda asked.

"Yes, I suppose so," I replied, a bit embarrassed to be accepted as a woman, "but I think he's all eyes for you, Miss Amanda."

"Don't I know it! He's always after me. But he is kinda cute, don't you think?"

"Yes he is, Miss Amanda," I replied, regretting that I steered the conversation in this direction.

"Don't worry, Michelle, I won't tell him what you just said," she giggled as John returned with my shoes.

John slipped the heels onto my feet and had me stand up and walk around a bit. Wobbling, and able to take only very short steps, it was obvious to anyone watching that I had never worn high heels before.

"Be careful, Michelle! You walk like a little girl who's slipped on her mother's shoes for the first time," Amanda joked. "Did you know, John, that this is Michelle's first time out as a woman. She was Mike until about an hour or two ago, and now look, she's blossomed like a rose in sunshine! What do you think, John, haven't we done a good job of making her pretty?"

John grimaced, but held his tongue. After that he treated me coldly, while Amanda, having a great time, fitted me into five other pairs of shoes, including a pair of navy blue pumps with three inch heels, and a pair of pink shoes with a lower, one and a half inch heel. I tried to convince Amanda that I should get flats, like penny loafers, but she stonewalled my suggestions. "High heels will force you to walk with nice, feminine steps, and will also make your legs look long and sexy," Amanda said. "Believe me, Michelle, you'll grow to love them. I bet that before long you'll have a closet full of the prettiest shoes in town!"

Since the Accessories Department was adjacent to the Shoe Department, Amanda took me directly over there after we had selected my shoes. She wasted no time in selecting three purses for me: two were of average size and had long straps, apparently meant to hang onto my shoulder; one was beige and the other blue. The third was a small pink clutch purse.

"But why do I need three purses, Amanda," I asked incredulously. "I mean, all guys get by with just one small wallet. Why would I possibly need three purses?"

"Michelle! Calm down! Remember, you're a woman now, so try to think like one. First, girls like us love to carry purses, and second, we girls need to carry purses. After all, guys don't carry around lipstick, mascara, face powder, perfume, tampons, and the like, do they? I mean, like, when Mike went off to work in the morning, he probably didn't take spare tampons with him, but when Amanda and Michelle go out, we better carry some with us, just in case! And lipstick: I bet Mike seldom had to touch up his lipstick after lunch, did he? But I promise you Michelle will! And really, Michelle, would you want to carry a blue purse while wearing a pretty pink outfit? Of course you wouldn't, girl! Let me suggest, Michelle, that you look in a mirror every so often, just to remind you of who you are. Then maybe you won't ask such foolish questions."

"Yes, Miss Amanda, you're right," I replied, intimidated by her lecture.

Part 12 And so the afternoon continued. After selecting my purses and belts, we went back and selected another half dozen outfits. After that I was handed back over to Maria's care, who proceeded to help me select earrings and other jewelry, as well as makeup. Maria was especially animated as we methodically chose item after item of makeup. For each, she instructed me how I should apply it, all the while talking to me as if I were a little girl being allowed for the first time in her life to use real makeup. After that, since Lisa and the girls had still not returned, Maria led me back to the lingerie department where together we selected another more items, including two slips, pantyhose of various hues, several pairs of panties, another lacy nightgown, a robe "for cool evenings", and two more bras.

Maria was packing up all these purchases when the girls returned. I noticed them walking through the store looking for me; they walked right past Maria and I without recognizing me. Apparently my transformation had been considerably more successful than any of them had anticipated. Amanda intercepted them and led them to me.

"Well," Amanda gushed, "what do you think? Isn't she something!"

All three stared at me for a moment, wide-eyed. "Damn," Lisa exclaimed, "you really did a job on our friend, Amanda. I would never have recognized you, Mike," she added as she studied my outfit.

"Hey," Maria said, "there's no Mike around here. This is Michelle. And we are very proud of her. She's been a very nice and cooperative young lady all afternoon, and very helpful, too. Michelle will definitely make a nice woman!"

"So I see," Josie said with a nervous grin. "I had no idea a man could be made to look so..., feminine."

"You said it! I tell you, Michelle, looking at you a lot of real girls could get jealous," Mary added.

Embarrassed by my situation, I just followed along as Lisa, Josie, and Mary met with Maria and Amanda to review my purchases and finalize the bill. Lisa had Amanda add a $200 tip to the total, then told me to sign the credit card bill. I saw the figure as if it was unreal: $2,962.11. What did it matter, I thought as I signed the bill. This life of mine had ended anyway.

The girls animatedly discussed my new wardrobe as Lisa drove home. They helped transport all my acquisitions into my car, and when finished, Lisa said "OK, Michelle, go home now and rest. We will see you at work tomorrow. Choose a pretty outfit, Michelle. Oh, and by the way: don't be late, or else."

Michelle's Story

Book Two: Workplace Blues in New Shoes

Part 13 Sunday's strange events had so drained me that I quickly went into a deep sleep, broken only by the buzzing of my alarm clock. It took me a few minutes to orientate myself; something felt odd....; then I remembered! No, it wasn't all just a dream.

I lay in bed for ten minutes, just thinking. What should I do? Although I still hoped that the girls would call and tell me their joke was over, that looked less and less likely to happen. It now appeared Lisa really expected me to go through with this, and if I didn't, she would turn me in. No doubt about that! And I would be fired. And my career would be over. And most likely I would be prosecuted and perhaps jailed.

But if I really succumbed to Lisa's punishment, what then? I would face great ridicule. Maybe I would be let go, but gently: I doubted that the company would want to make a big show of it. In fact, I could probably get them to agree not to mention my "situation" to any others, so that I would still have a good reference when I sought a new job in a new city. And maybe that would be best; to get clear of this cloud and then leave town. I wasn't from Dallas, after all. I had no family here. I could just quietly move to another state and start over again, if only I had no criminal record and if I could use the company as a reference.

So it was that I convinced myself to do it; besides, I kept thinking that maybe Lisa would call off this nonsense at the last minute.

I showered and shaved my face, legs, and arms, just as Lisa had commanded me to do yesterday evening. A sense of shame swept through my being when, while drying myself with a towel, I glimpsed the sight of my new, feminine looking body in the mirror. I quickly sat down and began to apply my makeup; I followed the written instructions Amanda had given me: start with mascara, then apply blusher, foundation, lipstick, powder, etc., and lastly my wig and earrings. All this took so long I soon found myself falling behind; how do girls do it, I wondered. I then began to dress: putting on the shaped panties and the white pantyhose wasn't too bad; men wore underwear, which really weren't that different from panties. Only when I grasped the lacy bra did the magnitude of my situation fully hit me: men don't wear bras; men don't have breasts. Once I donned my bra, and inserted my silicone breasts, I realized I had crossed that line which so completely separates the sexes. Now, to the eyes of others, and even to an extent in my own mind, I was no longer male: I was female!

But I had no time for such musing, or I would be late to work, Lisa would turn me in, and all would be lost. Hurriedly I donned my slip and then went to the closet to select my outfit. Panic! What should I wear? As a man it never mattered, gray suit, blue suit, no one cared. But now.....

First I took a pastel green dress that Amanda had forced me to model for her, but then, embarrassed at the thought of wearing an actual woman's dress, I put it back and took the rose colored suit with the short pleated skirt; Amanda had also sold me a white silk blouse with lace cuffs and collar. It took some time, but soon I was again wearing the outfit that I had become almost accustomed to yesterday. Thankfully it hadn't wrinkled much!

I glanced at the clock; it was already after 8, and work started at 8:30. I had to hurry! Not even time for any breakfast. Shoes were not a problem: I chose pink pumps with a two inch heel, quickly checked my purse to make sure I had my lipstick and compact, and then, after taking a furtive glance through my window (luckily I saw nobody around), I walked outside and hurried to my car. Still stunned by all that had happened, I drove away in an apprehensive mood.

Part 14 It was 25 minutes after eight when I pulled into the parking lot. The accounting office was located in a converted department store, a stand alone structure, one story tall, with its own parking lot. Only a few bookkeeping and accounting departments were located at this site, the head office being in a large complex ten miles west of here. All together, only about 100 employees worked at this site.

I pulled into an empty space and just sat, frozen with fear and anxiety. Could I go through with this? What choice did I have? I looked at my hands, smooth hairless hands with long red nails, and noticed they were trembling. With a sigh, I took my purse and got out. I had to walk across the parking lot to reach the door. Wearing high heels made the walk slow, as I was forced to take only short steps and had to carefully watch where I stepped. I hoped with all my heart that Lisa would come out and, with a laugh, let me off the hook and send me home. But she didn't.

Part 15 I grasped the door and pulled it open; it seemed somehow heavier to me, as if I was becoming physically weaker, like a female. Inside was a receptionist's desk. The receptionist, Candy, was a young girl just out of high school, pretty, maybe 5'6", with a very sweet, sexy voice. I had hoped she would be away from her desk so that I might just slip by, but luck was not on my side today.

"Yes, ma'am, may I help you," Candy asked, looking up from the magazine she had been reading. I felt a cold sweat and considered just turning around and leaving.

"Well..., I work here.." I replied in a feminine pitch, thinking maybe she would just let me enter.

"Oh. I'm sorry, I don't recognize you. What's your name so that I may check our roster?"

"My name?" I replied, hesitating. "Why, I'm Jackson. Mike. You remember me, Candy. I work in Payables."

She stared at me for a long moment as if I were crazy, then a large smile crossed her face. "Mike? Is that really you? I can't believe this! It really is you, isn't it? My God, what happened to you over the weekend?"

"Yes, Candy, it's me," I said, blushing. "Please don't make fun of me. I've got to get going or I'll be late to work."

"Sure, Mike, whatever you say. By the way, that's a very pretty skirt you're wearing, MIKE," she said, emphasizing my masculine name.

"Thank you, Candy," I replied as I hurried past her, sitting at her desk, staring wide-eyed at me. The payables department was located towards the back of the building; it wasn't really in a separate room, although dividers were set up along its perimeter. As I walked through the building a few women glanced at me, but none seemed to recognize me or my true gender. The sound of my heels clicking as I walked further unnerved me.

Part 16 Entering the Payables department, I noticed several of my coworkers sitting in the break area, which was located adjacent to the entrance, getting coffee and gossiping before starting the day's work. Lisa and Mary were there. All heads turned towards me; I saw Lisa and Mary smiling, while the other women just stared, apparently not sure just who I was.

"May I help you, Miss," Lisa said aloud as I tried to walk by.

"Hello Lisa, it's me..., Mike," I replied. I had no choice but to act as if Lisa and Mary knew nothing about what happened yesterday.

"Mike? Mike, is that really you," Lisa exclaimed. "Why Mike, you look so...so pretty! Come here and let us all admire your new...your new look!" Lisa grasped my hand and led me over to the breakroom; I couldn't help but blush as the young women all stared at me.

"What's going on? Why are you dressed like a girl, Mike," asked Angie. Angie was a single mother of two; she sat adjacent to my work area and had always treated me well, although I had more or less ignored her existence. Though she was pretty, I was never a man who would date a woman with kids. I had always thought that beneath me.

"Well, Angie," I replied, actually speaking to the eight women that had crowded around me, "it's kinda hard to explain. You know, a, me being the only man here, it seemed like, sometimes, I didn't fit in so well. So, I thought that, maybe, if I became...a..., more like the rest of you..., then we all would..., a..., work better together. You know, as a team..." I blushed and stuttered; I knew my line was unconvincing, but what could I say in this situation?

Angie stared at me, dumbfounded. "What? You want to be more like us? You mean, you want to be more like a woman?"

"Well Mike," Mary said, "I'd say you sure succeeded. You are a very cute girl!" She and Lisa both started giggling uncontrollably.

"Yes Angie," I said softly. "I want to be more like you all are. I hope you all don't mind. I hope you don't mind..."

"Well...I don't know...this is odd, Mike," Angie said, "but no, I guess I don't mind if you, well, wear skirts and all. What do you all think, girls?"

Most of the others were still too surprised to say anything. Anna, a married woman about my age, said, "Whatever you want, Mike. I suppose I can live with another girl in the department."

"Oh, and by the way," I said sheepishly, "I'm using a different name now. Michelle. If you all don't mind..., you know....you can call me....Michelle...instead of.... Mike..., you know."

"MICHELLE," exclaimed Susan, another co-worker. "Damn! This is all a real surprise, Mike....I mean Michelle. You never seemed to be...that way...you know, effeminate. I know I never suspected that you wanted to be a girl! Why didn't you tell us earlier, Michelle?"

"I was just a..., a little embarrassed," I replied, meekly.

"Yea, I suppose so," Susan said. "But anyway, Michelle, you make a nice looking young lady. Your taste is impeccable, and a bit rich, too. You didn't buy that pretty outfit at K-Mart, I bet."

"No..., but I better get to work now. Thanks for not making this all too hard on me," I said to the women with sincerity.

"That's OK, Michelle. It'll take us a while to get used to your new.., ah..., look, but it'll be all right," said Angie.

I walked over to my workspace and, feeling completely drained, sat down at my desk. Since my cubical was mostly surrounded by space dividers, I had a semblance of solitude there. My desk was empty except for my beige purse; I thought to myself how lucky I was not to have one those big ugly purses that so many women carry. From where I sat I could hear the girls talking excitedly, but could not make out what they were saying. Most likely they were talking about me. Eventually I pulled myself together a bit, opened my desk and took out a couple case files, turned on my computer, and began to work. All was strangely quiet for the first hour. No one came in to my cubical, though I heard more people walking by then was usual. I guessed that Candy had begun to spread word of me around, but I purposely did not look up from my work as I did not want to get into any conversations.

Repeatedly I caught myself staring at my short skirt and at my legs, now clad in white pantyhose. The sight was strange, so sexy as to be erotic had another woman wearing it.

It was after ten before I had my first unwanted visitors.

"Hi, Michelle," I heard Angie say. Looking up, I saw Angie and Lisa.

"Michelle, Lisa and I just wanted to welcome you. We really don't mind that you are like you are. I know it must be tough, your first day out and all, but anyway...welcome, Michelle!"

"Thank you, Angie, I really appreciate that," I said.

"And just to show you how much we like you as Michelle, Lisa has some flowers she would like to share," continued Angie with sincerity.

"Yes, Michelle," Lisa added with a devious grin, "a very pretty bouquet to match your new, very feminine persona! Oh, you just look so cute, Michelle! I already like you much more than that surly predecessor of yours, what was his name, now? Oh yes, Mike. Anyway, I'm glad Mike is gone and Michelle is here. Now, just to make you fit in with us girls a bit more, let's set this nice vase on your desk." Lisa put a vase with a dozen red roses on my desk. "Now, girl, it's break time. Come with us to the cafeteria!"

Knowing that Lisa's request was really a command, I had no choice but to accompany them to the cafeteria. I got up and started to leave, when Angie said, "Michelle, take your purse! My, you'll have a lot to learn, Michelle. But we'll help you, so don't worry."

"Thank you, Angie," I replied as I placed the strap of my purse onto my shoulder and followed the two young women to the cafeteria. I tried to smile as we walked, but my quesiness made it difficult. I noticed now that people were staring at me as I passed; no doubt, word of my transformation had spread throughout the building already. After buying coffee and donuts, the three of us sat at a corner table; I was able to sit with my back towards the cafeteria, so that I wouldn't be watching others stare at me.

"How was your weekend, Angie," Lisa asked.

"Oh,it was OK. Always running here to there. With kids, you know, a mother never has any peace!"

"I can imagine," Lisa said. "Heck, even single girls like Michelle and I have an impossible time just keeping up with shopping and all, don't we, Michelle?"

"Oh, I suppose so," I replied.

"So, Michelle, tell us, have you always wanted to be a girl," asked Angie. "I've read that some boys are like that, wear their sisters clothes and all, but I never thought much about it, to be honest. I suppose it's been hard for you to really be yourself all through your life."

"No, it's not so much that I want to be a girl," I replied, not knowing quite how to rationalize my "change". I couldn't tell the truth, after all. "I just think that since I've been the only male in our department, I've been treated differently than the rest of you. Now that won't happen anymore. I'll be one of the team."

"Oh come off it, Michelle. Your being the only male in our department worked to your benefit. While I admit you make a good looking woman, there's no way you're gonna get ahead around here by wearing short skirts. But that's OK, Michelle. You don't have to tell us whether or not you wore your sister's dresses or anything, though I don't see anything that terrible about it. But tell us, are you going to be a girl from now on around here? I certainly hope so!"

I glanced at Lisa; she was watching me closely. "Yes, I suppose so. From now on I'll be just another girl around the office," I said to Angie.

Part 17 "Speaking of the office, our fifteen minutes is almost up. Let's go to the little girl's room and freshen up a bit," Lisa said.

"OK. Come on, Michelle, I suppose you'll now be using the little girl's room too, won't you? Come on with us, we'll show you how the other side pees," Angie said, laughing at her joke.

"Oh, no..., I don't know that I should...," I replied, caught off guard by this dilemma that I hadn't recognized until now. I would eventually have to use the restroom. But which one?? Deeply embarrassed by this new crisis, I blushed as the girls taunted.

"What do you mean, Michelle? You can't go into the men's room dressed like that, can you," asked Angie.

"No..., you know, I never thought about this before...., I don't know what to do..." I said as I followed the girls.

"You don't know? Well, it's time we decide, cause we don't want you to wet your panties, Michelle," Lisa scolded. "Come on, we'll work this out right now." I followed her back to the payables department; Lisa quickly walked around and gathered all the girls together. Only the department supervisor was absent, as she had taken the morning off.

Once all of us were gathered together near Lisa's desk, she walked over to my side and put her right arm around my shoulders. We stood there like that in front of ten women, I dressed in a rose colored woman's suit with short pleated skirt, high heels and white panty hose, Lisa wearing a simple blouse (white with no lace, such that it could have been worn by any man without raising any eyebrows), slacks and loafers.

"Girls," Lisa said in an authoritative voice, "most of you have met our new girl, Michelle. Well, Michelle has a problem that she needs our help with. Go ahead, Michelle, tell us what it is."

Lisa had put me on the spot, apparently keen to humiliate me. But I knew I had to answer something. I blushed.

"Yes..., I have to know.., which, ah, restroom to use..." Once they knew what was up, most of the women couldn't help but smile. Josie began to giggle uncontrollably.

"Well, Michelle, that's one problem that the rest of us have never had," Susan said in a joking manner.

"Which restroom do you want to use, Michelle," asked Debbie. "Wouldn't you feel kinda strange with the men, looking like you do? You will sure get some stares in there, especially when you touch up your makeup."

"Yes.., I know...., so I would like, I guess, to be able to use the, ah, the little girl's room...., if you all don't mind, that is...," I replied.

"Well, what do you all think," Lisa asked. Little Michelle would like to pee-pee with us girls. Would anybody here feel at all uncomfortable with her using the little girls room?"

"Not me," said Susan, "but you know, Michelle, there's no urinal in the ladies room. You'll have to squat now just like all girls do."

"Yes...., I understand that.." I said.

"And remember," Mary added with a laugh, "don't flush your tampons down the toilet, cause we'll get blamed for it!"

"OK, then, if nobody objects, it's decided. Michelle, from now on you may use the little girl's room. Congratulations," Lisa exclaimed as she leaned over and gave me a little kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you, Lisa. Let me thank all of you. I don't think I could face the other guys in the men's room looking like this," I said, sincerely glad that they wouldn't force me into confrontation with the guys in this office.

Susan came up to me, grasped my hand in hers, and said, "Don't worry, Michelle, you'll get used to being a girl. It's fun!" Several of the other women also came up and touched me in a sisterly manner, apparently trying to make me feel accepted. They all then went back to work, except Lisa and Angie, who dragged me off to the ladies room.

Part 18 "Come on, Michelle, you're acting like a fraidy cat," said Angie when I hesitated at the door to the Ladies room. "None of us are going to cut off your thing just because you use the ladies room!"

"Hey, I don't think Michelle would mind it if someone did do that," Lisa said, laughing.

But what if someone's in there? They might get mad at me," I said, afraid to go in.

"Hey, girl, you're going to have to get used to it, or else," Lisa said. I knew exactly what the "or else" was.

"Besides, Michelle, you can't have one of us guard the bathroom for you each time you go pee-pee," Angie said. "Just act like a girl, and we'll treat you like a girl. After all, that's what you want, isn't it?" Angie held the door open while Lisa more or less shoved me through. Inside, the walls were pink, there were many more stalls then the men's room had, and of course there were no urinals. More mirrors, including a full length mirror, and much better lighting. Luckily, no one was in there.

"Now go ahead, Michelle, use a stall and squat. Remember, you're a woman now, so act like one. And after you finish you had better touch up your makeup a bit," Angie said. She was apparently taking on the role of my "big sister" and was enjoying it immensely, but at least she wasn't doing all this just to make fun of me. Her heart was in the right place, I could tell.

"Yes, Michelle, I'll check you when you come out, and I want your lipstick to be perfect. And powder your nose, too," Lisa said in the tone of an authoritative mother talking to her daughter.

"Yes, I will, I promise," I said to them, then entered a stall at the far end. It took me a while to lower all my garments enough to free what used to be my manhood; I carefully raised my slip and short skirt, then squatted. I heard the girls talking and laughing, and then they left the room. I was alone in this all too foreign place!

Part 19 Quickly I did my business and then pulled my panty girdle and pantyhose up. Once assured that everything was OK, I left the stall and was about to flee when I recalled Lisa's veiled warning. Nervously I went to a mirror, set my purse on the counter, opened it and removed my Covergirl makeup compact and my tube of red lipstick, all the time wondering if all of this was worth it. But least Lisa had kept her word so far; apparently nobody else had been told of my stupid crime.

Surprised at how my lipstick had apparently rubbed off when I had eaten, I carefully took the lipstick and started to apply it. Engaged as I was in this task, I didn't hear the door until it closed. Startled, I looked over towards the door, only to see Maria standing only about five feet from me, watching me. My lipstick smudged as I involuntarily jerked it away from my face.

Maria was a CPA who worked in the Internal Audit Department. Although her office was in the headquarters building, her job required her to make frequent visits to our site. We had met shortly after I was hired, and had developed a relationship of sorts over the past year. I had grown very fond of her, and I think she felt likewise. We had dated on a number of occasions, and I had even accompanied her to a couple of after-hour office socials, a retirement party and the previous Christmas party. We had been intimate once, about a month ago, an act which had scared both of us a bit, as we both tended to be afraid of commitment. Afraid that she was angry with me for "taking advantage" of her, I hadn't spoken to her over the past three weeks. While we had never discussed marriage, the thought had crossed my mind, as I enjoyed her company very much.

Physically, Maria was pretty in a normal, feminine way rather than a fashion model way. Most beautiful were her dark eyes, long black hair that would glisten in the sunlight, and her clear skin. She didn't dress up that much; she purchased all her clothes at company stores (using employee discounts) rather than using high dollar fashionable stores like Loretta's. Maria was about five foot five; in my high heels, I now stood several inches taller than her, such that she was looking upward, with a shocked expression, at me, her friend and lover, standing there in the ladies room.

Several long moments passed before she spoke. "So it's true. Candy was telling me, but it didn't make sense. I thought she was crazy. But it's true!"

"I'm sorry, Maria," I muttered. "It's not really what you're thinking."

"Not what I'm thinking! What do you mean, Mike," she said, her shock being replaced by anger. "I see you there putting on lipstick, wearing a pink skirt and high heels. I see you with female breasts! You tell me, Mike, what am I suppose to be thinking?"

"Maria, please...., don't get upset."

"Upset? I'm confused, Mike, not just upset. Oh, I forgot: you're Michelle now! So, tell me, MICHELLE, what am I supposed to think!"

"I feel the same for you, Maria. This doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't change anything? My boyfriend is wearing skirts to work now, and it doesn't change anything? My boyfriend wants to be a girl, and it doesn't change anything? My boyfriend is wearing high heels and pantyhose, but that doesn't change anything? Really, Michelle, why didn't you tell me you were like this? Maybe I would have borrowed you a dress to wear, or helped you shop for your panties. But I would never have went to bed with you!"

"Please Maria, we can work through this."

"Sure, MICHELLE, sure we can. Maybe we can double date sometime. I'm sure the men around here find your short skirt a real turn-on. Go ahead, finish with your make-up, girl, pretty yourself up. Be a good little girl, cause you're surely not a man, are you?"

"Please, Maria, just give me a chance."

"Do it, Michelle. Quit talking and fix up your makeup, right now!"

I knew I had to get back to work or I would be in even worse trouble. With resignation, I turned back to the mirror. Using a piece of tissue I wiped the lipstick smudge from my cheek, then I patted powder on my nose and cheeks. Maria just stood there watching me in disbelief. When finished, I put my makeup back into my purse, placed the strap over my shoulder, and started to leave. I stopped and, with tears in my eyes, turned to Maria and again told her I was sorry.

"Go back to work, young lady. I'll talk to you later," she said coldly. I turned, exited the ladies room, and, with a very heavy heart, hurried back to my desk.

Part 20 Time passed slowly. I tried to keep my mind on my work, with less than great success. A mental image kept forming in my brain of me, the new me, smartly clad in the latest fashions, standing there surrounded by the women in my life. In a strange way I felt a bit of pride that at least I looked fairly decent as a woman; I began to sense how real women come to so value their beauty.

But I was still working. I had anticipated that by now I would have been gently walked out the door, and would be on my way to start life anew, somewhere far away. But so far, nothing! Maybe this was because my immediate supervisor, Ellen, hadn't shown up at work yet.

Things were quiet until a few minutes before noon, when various people began to come by to check me out. By now, everyone in the building knew of my change.

First Candy came by, accompanied by two of her girlfriends, both of whom were, like Candy, still teenagers, and both of whom were secretaries at other departments.

"Hi, Mike, you know Liz and Sally, don't you," Candy said as they crowded into my cubical. "We just wanted to come by and look you over. They simply didn't believe me when I told them what a pretty girl you have become!"

"Thank you, Candy," I responded, blushing as I turned my chair to face the girls. "Hi..., how are you all?"

"Oh! You really look gorgeous, Mike. Such sexy legs for a sissy boy," gushed Liz.

"Thank you," I said, embarrassed by the attention and comments of these cute teenage girls who stood looking down at me. Afraid my slip or panties might be showing, I quickly crossed my legs in the feminine manner. "But please don't call me Mike. Call me Michelle instead."

"Michelle! Such a pretty name for a pretty girl, don't you think, Candy," Liz teased. "Say, we're on our way to lunch, Michelle. Won't you come with? We can drive over to Chili's. There's always bunches of hunks there. Maybe we can meet some!"

Blushing from the insinuation in Liz's remarks, I replied, "Oh,..., no thanks,..., I'm not, ...ah... hungry." I really couldn't tell if these girls were mocking me or just being friendly.

"Oh, OK, girl, we'll let you out of it this time. But you just must come with us one day this week. We want to find out how you like being a woman, you know, compared to what you were before. So, is it a date, Michelle," asked Candy.

"OK, Candy, some time this week," I promised, just to end this ordeal.

No sooner had they left than two women approached, Jane and Sandy, both of whom I barely knew, as neither were from my department.

"Hi, Michelle, we heard all about you and just had to come see for ourselves. My, you make a good looking woman. Congratulations on your entry into the fairer sex," Jane said, laughing in a mocking tone of voice.

"You're so cute I'll make it a point to keep my husband away from you, girl," added Sandy.

Two other groups of women followed, one after another, each mostly just curious, but also poking a bit of fun in my direction, or so at least it seemed to me. Then Angie called to me from the other side of the divider, where her desk sat.

"Hey, Michelle, let's go out to get a bite to eat. You need break from all yor admirers, don't you?"

"Yes, Angie," I said, almost in tears, "I sure do. I feel like everyone is laughing at me."

"OK, let's get out of here. Grab your purse, girl!"

Part 21 Angie and I walked to McDonalds, which was only a couple of blocks away. Although I was getting a bit more accustomed to walking in high heels, I had difficulty keeping up with her. Angie was pretty, but not striking. Thirty years old, she had married, had two children, and been divorced. I had heard that her husband abused her physically, though she had never talked much about him. Her clothes were nice, but not at all extravagant, mostly items bought at Target or WalMart. With kids, and on her income, it was probably difficult to make ends meet. But Angie never seemed to complain; in fact, she usually was smiling.

Today Angie was wearing a maroon colored skirt, knee length, and a simple pink blouse. Her auburn hair was cut in a page boy, and she seemed to wear only a little makeup, usually just lipstick. Her sheer pantyhose showed off pretty legs, and unlike me in my high heels, Angie wore plain penny loafers.

I walked along behind her, impressed by her simple beauty and soft, girlish body. Strangely, I felt a bit of angst that I would never be able to exude such a natural, graceful femininity. Did I envy Angie, I wondered; what was happening to me?

A pickup truck slowed down as it passed; the passenger rolled down his window and called out, "Hey girls! How bout ya'all come with us and party!" I noticed that Angie just ignored the truck, didn't even look towards the men in it. I followed her lead and did the same. The truck squealed off.

"Well, Michelle, that's one thing you'll have to get used to now. All men treat us like dirt, it seems. But the best reaction to come-ons like that is just to not react at all."

"Yea," I replied, embarrassed by my failure to react, "but I wanted to tell them where to go, Angie. It's not right for them to do that to us."

"That's true, Michelle," Angie said, laughing, "but you're a girl now, and girls don't shout obscenities, you know. And wouldn't you look funny trying to duke it out with some guy dressed while wearing high heels! Just consider it a compliment of sorts. I mean, those guys wanted us, sexually. We shouldn't be too upset by that."

"Maybe," I groused, "but I sure don't want them sexually."

By this time we had reached the restaurant; Angie did the ordering for us, which was fine for me as my voice was not very feminine. The place was packed with workers and with mothers tending their children, but we were able to find a table at the back. Once seated, an immense sense of relief swept through my being; for the first time today I wasn't threatened by ridicule and worse. Other than Angie, nobody here knew me nor cared to know me; nor was there any indication that anyone thought I was other than the woman I appeared to be. And Angie, I felt, accepted me, even seemed to like me, or at least my new, feminine persona.

"So," Angie asked between bites, "are you planning to be Michelle from now on?"

"Oh Angie, I just don't know. All this has happened so, well, unexpectedly. I really hadn't planned to be Michelle at work. To be honest, I kinda expect to be fired as soon as Ellen comes in."

"No, I doubt you'll get fired, Michelle, though it's possible. But you'll never advance around here anymore. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they demoted you to a clerical or receptionist position, just to show you how tough real girls have it. But that's not really so bad, is it? At least you'll have a job, and you'll be able to wear dresses and skirts and all."

"You know," Angie continued, "us girls may mostly be willing to accept you, but the guys in the office, I don't know. I suspect they may not like the new you. Luckily for you, there aren't too many guys that work in the office."

"Sure, your chances of getting ahead may be zero, but as a girl, you won't experience the pressure to get ahead that Mike probably felt. In fact, I bet that's one of the reasons you chose to be Michelle, isn't it?"

"Maybe, Angie," I sighed, "but today the pressure has really been unbearable. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for me today. Just accepting me. I know Mike mostly ignored you. I guess he was a real jerk, ha?"

"Oh, I don't know. Mike was kinda handsome, even if he was a little too small for some of us. Most of the girls thought he was maybe a bit too macho, if you know what I mean. But now, look at you. Michelle is pretty, and much nicer than Mike ever was," she kidded. "So tell me, is Michelle planning on making it official anytime soon?"

"What do you mean," I asked innocently.

"You know, surgery. Cut off that thing between your legs. Get real breasts. That stuff?"

I involuntarily grimaced at the thought. "No, no, I haven't really thought about that, Angie."

"Well, in a way it would be a shame for you to lose your family jewels, but your panties will fit you a lot better afterwards," she laughed.

"Yea," I said, smiling for the first time all day, "wearing tight panties all day does get a bit uncomfortable."

We continued chatting through lunch. Before leaving, Angie wisely suggested I use the ladies room so that I would be able to avoid the one at the office for a bit longer. Without a smirk or snide comment, Angie accompanied me into the restroom and even assisted me a bit with my makeup.

"Angie," I said as we were walking back, "I really enjoyed your company. I hope we can be friends from now on."

"Sure, Michelle, you can be my girlfriend," she replied happily. Yes, I thought to myself with disappointment, I'm now just a girlfriend. Neither Angie, nor any woman, would consider me a man anymore. How could I expect them to? I looked down at my high heels and, for a second, a feeling of revulsion coursed through my being.

Sensing something was troubling me, Angie continued, "Michelle, if you don't mind my prying, do you have someone special, you know, like a boyfriend?"

"No, Angie. I've never been with a man."

"Is that why you seem so down? I tell you, Michelle, you're not missing much. My ex-husband, Bill, he was really good looking and all. Tall and muscular, with a big hairy chest. Not at all like Mike, I bet. And yes, he swept me off my feet. I mean, I fell so madly in love with him that my heart shattered when he left. He had no reason to go. Just got tired of being married. So believe me, Michelle, these macho types are not so great over the long run. If you never fall in love, you'll be lucky. But you are cute, so some guy surely use you, just wait and see. But at least if you get taken advantage of like I did, you probably won't end up being a mother of two kids. Heck, If you do, your picture will be on the cover of the National Enquirer," she exclaimed with a laugh.

"Yes," I laughed, "wouldn't that be something. I can just picture me walking around, nine months pregnant. Why, I could get on all the talk shows!"

As I followed her into the building and back to our department, I realized how Angie had a way of making life seem pleasant, even for a guy walking around in high heels and pantyhose.

Part 22 I had just gotten back to work when Jill, our secretary, came over. She was a young, skinny girl with long red hair and a few freckles. She couldn't help but grin as she looked at me sitting there, my legs crossed like a girl, with the bouquet of roses on my desk.

"Ah, Mike...., or Michelle...., I just don't know what to call you, it seems," she said nervously, "Ellen would like to see you in her office."

I could almost feel my stomach drop. So this was it. Either I would be fired for coming to work in inappropriate dress, or perhaps Lisa had told Ellen of my travel voucher fraud, in which case I would be hauled off to jail wearing high heels. I felt cold and clammy, and just sat silently.

After a few moments Jill walked to where I sat and put her hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Michelle," she said in sympathetic tone of voice, "I'm sure everything will be OK."

"It's OK, Jill...," I replied, "please tell Ellen I'll be there in a second. I just need to get a drink of water first."

"Sure thing," Jill said. "And by the way, Michelle, I really like your earrings. They look so cute!"

"Hey, girl, don't look so down," I heard Angie say after Jill left. She peeked around the divider that separated her desk from mine. "I'm sure everything will be fine. Just don't cry in front of them. Managers hate it when women cry at work!"

"Thanks, Angie. I'll try not to. Though I kinda feel like crying right now."

Part 23 Like all the managers in the building, Ellen had a private office. Jill was there to usher me in, after which she excused herself and, upon leaving, closed the door. When the door closed, thinks got serious, or so the office joke went.

Ellen was a tall, slender woman, still young at about 40, and still quite pretty. Her hair was cut straight and mid-length, and she was always very well dressed. I doubt she ever used her employees discount, at least not for her clothes, preferring instead to shop at more expensive stores.

"Have a seat, Mike," she said, motioning me to a chair across the desk from her. Carefully I straightened my skirt before sitting, just as Amanda had taught me to do yesterday. Although Ellen's legs and lower body were hidden from my view by her desk, I had to sit out in the open, fully exposed to Ellen's view. Meekly I crossed my legs in the feminine manner, embarrassed as she scrutinized my entire body: hair, makeup, outfit, legs, and heels. This wasn't fair, I thought, having to sit in the open like an object on display.

"That's a cute skirt, Mike. Pleated skirts look good on women with firm, thin legs," Ellen said.

"Why, thank you," I replied warily.

"Well, Mike, to be honest, I was very, very surprised when I arrived here this morning. Candy at the front desk told me about your, ah, is change the proper word? Anyway, I never expected this of you."

"I realize it's too late now, Mike, but you should have told me about this long ago. Maybe we could have eased into this transition of yours. You could have started off with, say, just a bit of mascara, then worked into pantyhose, flats, and nicely tailored womens slacks. I think you wouldn't have drawn so much attention that way."

"I suppose you're right," I said.

"You know, Mike, you were in line for a management position here. It was almost preordained. But now, I don't see that in your future at all. You've traded a lot just to be able to wear dresses."

"Yes, Ellen, I realize that. But it had to happen. It just had to."

"So, Mike, I'm curious. Why? Do you think women have it easier than guys around here? Are you getting a sex change? Are you just trying to attract men? What is it?"

"It's nothing complicated, Ellen. I just feel this role fits me better. I'm simply more comfortable as a woman," I said, trying to rationalize the situation. I felt a bit more at ease now; true, I was under pressure and maybe about to get fired, but at least it was obvious that Lisa hadn't snitched on me. "And besides, our entire department is female. I was the only exception. There was always a wall between Mike and his co-workers. But maybe Michelle will get along better with her co-workers. Maybe, as Michelle becomes accepted by the others, friction in the department will decrease. I know some of the others resented Mike as a fair haired boy who would be given positions he didn't deserve, simply because he was male in a predominantly female department. With Michelle, nobody will harbor such thoughts. I really believe Michelle's presence will not harm productivity in our department. It could actually boost productivity."

"So," Ellen said after a moment of contemplation, "let me get this straight. Mike now wants to be Michelle. From now on Mike will wear dresses, skirts, and high heels to work, as well as, I imagine, panties and bras. And as a result, our department will produce more than ever?"

"Well, yes, maybe so," I replied, flushed.

"In that case, maybe all the men here should shave their legs and apply makeup, just like you. Just think how productive a company we would have then," she said sarcastically.

"OK, Mike..., or Michelle, here is what we'll do. Management prefers to project a tolerant image. In particular, since most of our customers are women, we must be very considerate of women's concerns. Maybe that extends to transsexuals like you. In any case, Bob, the chief of this division, checked with Personnel and they don't see that your dress is an automatic reason for dismissal. So you'll get to stay, with conditions: you must always be dressed as a woman from now on. No exceptions. We do not need the confusion of an employee whose sex changes from day to day. Also, Mike, you've always been excused from various duties just because of your sex. Things like making coffee, cleaning the snack room, toy drives, and secretarial backup. That won't happen anymore. You want to look like a woman, so you'll have to work like one. And since you've been off secretarial backup for so long, you will be at the top of the list for a while. So, next week when Jill is on her vacation, you'll be taking her place. Usually Lisa or Mary fills in for Jill, but now you will. For the entire week you'll be my secretary. And of course, when other secretaries take time off, their managers may also like to use you as their temporary secretary. I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of the women managers in the building might like to use you for secretary duties, if only for the novelty of having a..., whatever you are.., around. But if any ask for you, you'll do it: secretarial backup is part of your job description from now on. You can get with Jill tomorrow and she'll show you the ropes. Do you agree to all this?"

"Yes, Ellen, I'll do my best," I replied.

"I'm sure you will, Michelle," Ellen said with a sly grin.

"Now, Mike, there's one more problem. One I've never faced before in my life, to be sure. I have to decide which restroom my employee may use. This is not really the kind of problem I like to face, particularly on a Monday morning, Mike."

"Yes, ma'am, I understand," I said sheepishly. Ellen seemed to enjoy calling me by my male name just to humiliate me.

"Well, Mike, which restroom would you prefer to use?"

"I glanced at the floor as I answered, not willing to look her in the eye, "the ladies room would be best, ma'am, considering how I'm dressed."

"The ladies room. So, Mike wants to use the Little Girl's Room from now on. Gee, Mike, this is all just too much. But I've discussed it with Bill. Seems the men in the building strongly prefer to not see you in their bathroom anymore. I suppose they think that having you in there straightening your skirt would be a bit awkward. Myself, Michelle, I don't really care. If you need to be treated like a girl, then by all means, come pee with us. But..., I don't know that other women in the building feel the same. And they have rights, do they not?"

"Of course..., I don't want to upset anyone," I said.

"Well, Jill and I drew up a memorandum. We'll distribute to all females in the building. If we get just a few objections, we'll try to arrange it for you to use only the ladies room in the back, and those women with objections can use the front restroom with total assurance that you won't be in there. However, if we receive more than a few objections, then the only options are to let you go, or have you use the small toilet down in the maintenance room. I'm sure you won't like either of those options, so let's hope no women object to you.

"Here's the memo we drafted; please read it over and sign it." Ellen handed a single piece of paper to me; I had to rise from my chair to take it from her. I blushed as I read it:

Memorandum

TO: All Female Employees at North Satellite Office.

Hello. My name is Mike Jackson. I've worked in the Payables Department for the past three years. Because I have not been comfortable as a man, I have recently begun to dress and act as a woman. I have chosen the name Michelle to replace my former name.

I intend to continue living as a woman from this time on, both at and away from work, for the rest of my life. However, I unfortunately do remain an anatomical male, at least for the time being. Perhaps, though, at a later date I will be able to complete my journey into the fairer sex.

In the meantime I face a dilemma here at the office. While I would greatly prefer to use the ladies restrooms, rather than the mens restrooms, I understand that some of you may object to that. Therefore, I am asking any woman who prefers that I not use the ladies room to please voice your objections to either your direct manager, or, off the record, to Jill, secretary of the Paybles Department. Only if all of your concerns are satisfactorily addressed will I venture into your restrooms.

Please understand that if I am allowed to use your restrooms, I will be fully discreet. Never will I reveal my unwanted male characteristic outside of a stall.

I plead for your empathy and compassion in this matter. It is with the greatest joy that I have embarked onto a new and better life, as a woman!

Sincerely,

Michelle Jackson

I read the memo once and then, stunned, read it over again. All of this had gotten so out of hand! Everything seemed so irrevocable, so permanent. Now I would be forced to be female away from work too? And what would the others think of me as they read this memo? I could just imagine that copies of this memorandum would soon be circulating in each of the company's offices and stores. Employees nationwide would laugh and make disparaging comments about my "dilemma".

"But," I stuttered, "this seems so, ah, descriptive. Maybe we could make it simple and short. Just poll a simple yes or no. Is it really necessary to have all this, ah, detail...."

"Now wait one moment, Michelle," Ellen said, apparently upset. "Jill and I worked hard to produce an honest memo describing your problem. Remember, you are wearing a short skirt and high heels, so I assume you must want to be a woman very badly."

"Yes, that's true, but, well," I said, staring at the memo, "maybe we could delete the section about my "male characteristic."

"Well, young lady," Ellen said sarcastically, "I realize that what "male characteristic" you have is probably laughably small, but nonetheless it is there hiding somewhere beneath your pretty panties. Now enough of this. Sign the memo so that we may distribute it this afternoon. That way, by tomorrow you should know where you can pee."

"Yes ma'am," I replied. I took a pen and carefully signed the memorandum, following Ellen's advice, as "Ms. Michelle Jackson", after which Jill was summoned into the office.

"Jill, Michelle wanted to personally thank you for your help with writing her memorandum," Ellen said.

"Yes, Jill," I replied softly, "thanks for helping. You did a good job."

"A very good job, Jill," Ellen added. "Now, I want you two young ladies to go to the copy machine and make 125 copies. I think that should be enough for every woman in the building. And then, Michelle, you will personally distribute your memo to all the departments. Just ask the secretary of each department for a head count of the women working there, and leave that number of copies. And by the way, Michelle, be very nice. Smile a lot. Remember, it's to your advantage to win over the women in this building. You want them to accept you, and the best way to do that is to act like a woman in every facet of your life. And Jill, while Michelle is delivering her memorandums, would you please get the paperwork in order to officially change Mike's work name to Michelle. Once that's done, Mike, I promise to always treat you as the girl you are!"

"Thank you, ma'am," I said before following Jill out of the office.

Part 24 "I'm glad you didn't get fired, Michelle," Jill said while helping me make the necessary photocopies. "You know, Ellen can be tough at times. When she first came in today, and heard about your change, she was furious. I think she took it as a personal affront that you didn't clear it with her."

"Maybe it would have been better if I were fired, Jill. I'm sure everybody is laughing at me."

"Oh, no, Michelle, it's not just that we're all laughing at you. It's more than that. Thinking of how you used to be, and how you are now, it's just all kinda threatening to the females around here. The situation, I mean, not you. It's like when we see you we all just feel, oh, maybe a bit afraid. Not afraid of you, Michelle, but afraid that maybe other men could make the same change. Maybe our own special men. I mean, to me, the thought of me seeing my boyfriend in high heels and a dress, like you, well, it's kinda terrifying. So when we see you we worry a bit, and by laughing we relieve that worry. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Jill," I replied sadly. "So would it really be that bad if your boyfriend liked to dress up occasionally, in lingerie, maybe in an outfit like mine," I asked, wondering if, as I was now dressed, I was really such a sexual turnoff to women.

"Oh, God! You've got to be kidding! That would be totally gross! I mean, you're not gross, but then, you're not any girl's boyfriend. You ARE a girl, at least sort of, so it's OK if you wear pantyhose. But not my man! If I ever saw him even looking at my panties I'd leave him. Unless, of course, I was wearing the panties at the time," she said, giggling.

Jill didn't know she had hurt my feelings. So, I realized with sorrow, now no woman would ever again look at me with desire. Was keeping my career and freedom really worth this, I wondered.

"I mean, Michelle, you know how it's so fun when you get all dressed up for your boyfriend. Put on a nice slinky short dress and sexy high heels. Surely you must dress up like that when you date, don't you? Well, how would you like to get all dressed to the nines, and then go to your boyfriend's place and find him wearing a skirt, too? I mean, that would really be a downer," Angie continued as if she were talking with just another girl, rather than to a girl-boy.

"Yes, Jill, I suppose you're right," I said.

After we had finished making the copies Jill handed the stack to me. "Now you get to pass out your memorandums to all the women here. I'm sure you'll be surprised how well we accept you as a girl. I know all my friends will. In fact, we were talking about you during lunch, and we all agreed we would enjoy having you in the little girl's room. Most of the girls want to help you with your makeup, advise you on clothes, that type of stuff. Things all girls learn early, but that you may need a little help with."

"Yes, Jill," I replied as I left with the memos, "there's much that I'll have to learn about being a woman."

Filled with trepidation, I left the relative security of the Payables Department, where I had hoped to more or less hide until Lisa relented on my sentence.

Part 25 Dreading the task at hand, I considered just walking out the door. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that the company would surely have me arrested when Lisa presented the evidence against me. After today, I had no supporters around here; nobody would have any qualms about filing charges. And besides, I was already the joke throughout the office; would this memo make it much worse? Probably not.

Jill had listed the departments I would have to visit: nine departments, plus the the Division Manager's office. She had also listed the name of the secretary for each department. First on the list was the lease department. Seeing me approach, Jeri, the secretary, got up from her chair and rushed over to me.

"Michelle! Hi! Jill told me all about you. Oh, you look so pretty," she exclaimed as she leaned over and gave me a girlish kiss on my cheek, "prettier than a lot of real girls I know. I know you're gonna like being a woman. Believe me, it's much more fun than being a man, no doubt about it. And say, anytime you need help with anything, come ask. We've got a lot of women in this department who can answer most any question you might have about being a female."

I couldn't help but blush with embarrassment. Jeri spoke loudly enough that everyone around was now staring at me. Sheepishly I handed Jerry 15 copies of the memorandum and asked her to distribute one to each woman in the department.

"Sure thing," Jeri said as she read the memorandum. As I was leaving she added, "And, Michelle, you've got my vote. I mean like, where does management expect you to freshen up? Like wow, you sure can't go into the mens room wearing a dress, can you?"

Most every department I went to was the same. At each, the young secretaries would look me over, comment on my shoes, or outfit, or earrings, or makeup, and say how pretty I looked. I had heard that so much that I almost believed it, though in my heart I knew everyone was just saying it out of politeness, pity, or both. The last department on my list was the overaged receivables department, which was basically a collection agency. The secretary here was Dorothy. Unlike the other secretaries I had visited, Dorothy was neither young nor pretty. She must have been about 50, considerably overweight, and had a face wrinkled from far too much tobacco use. Her voice sounded like a man's, probably as a result of years of heavy smoking. She sat at her desk reading a newspaper, not even looking up. I stood in front of her desk in silence for at least a minute, until it became clear this woman would ignore me until I spoke.

"Hi, Dorothy," I said in as cheerful a manner as I could, "would you please distribute copies of this memorandum to the ladies in your department?"

"Maybe," she replied gruffly as she took copies of the memo from me. It took her a couple of minutes to read the memo.

"What's this all about," she asked me, looking at me suspiciously. "Who's this Michelle person, anyway?"

"I'm Michelle," I replied. She stared at me. It seemed to upset her that some guy wearing a skirt looked so much better than she did.

"So, you're a guy who wants to use the ladies room? Are you crazy? What's the matter with you, anyway, going around looking like a young girl?"

"I'm sorry, Dorothy, but the memo explains it all. Would you please give a copy to everyone?"

"I dunno. I don't like this. Maybe you better talk to my manager. But she's in a meeting. You'll have to come back..."

Just then the door to the her manager's office opened and out came Janet, manager of that department, followed by Maria. I was stunned and ashamed to be there in front of Maria. Unable to look into her eyes, I instead looked down at the floor.

"What's up," asked Janet, a dark haired middle-aged woman, slightly overweight, but with a reputation in the building as being maybe the nicest manager around.

"This a.., person..., wants me to hand out this memo to everone. Is that OK with you," asked the surly secretary.

"I don't know," she replied cheerfully, "what's the memo about?" She walked up to me and said, "Hi, I'm Janet. I don't believe we've met?"

"Hi Janet," I replied nervously as Maria took one of the memos and began reading it, "I'm Michelle. I'm from Payables. I was hoping you could pass this memo around to your group." I tried as best I could to maintain a professional bearing, but felt flushed; certainly I was blushing noticeably. Janet took one of the memos, read it, looked at me again, then read it again. I noticed that she also blushed, apparently embarrassed by what she read or saw. I glanced towards Maria; she just stood there, holding a copy of the memo, staring at me in apparent disbelief.

"Well, ah, Michelle...., yes....,ah, I guess I don't know what to say.... This is a different type of memo than I usually see," she said, breaking into a large grin, "quite a bit different. But don't worry, I'll have Dorothy pass the memorandum around. Oh, and by the way, just speaking for myself, I don't have any problem with you using the ladies room, if that's what you really want. What do you think, Maria?"

"No, I don't mind if SHE uses the ladies room," Maria said icily. "Dressed like that, it might be dangerous for Michelle to use the mens room. We don't need Michelle getting sexually harassed by the guys in the office, do we?"

"Good point, Maria," Janet said, clearly unaware that Maria and I knew each other well. "My god, Michelle, you are a very nice looking young lady! I guess you made a good choice when you decided to change your sex."

"Thank you, ma'am," I said as I turned and walked away. I could hear my high heels clicking on the tile floor. Without a doubt, I realized, Maria had now lost all respect for me.

Part 26 When finally I returned to my department, Jill asked that I distribute the memo to each woman in the unit. So it was that as closing time neared I was going through the department personally distributing copies of a memorandum which, in a very transparent manner, served only to belittle my masculinity.

In the break area I found my three persecutors, the women responsible for my emasculation.

"Look at this," Lisa exclaimed as I approached, "it's the new girl! So tell us, Michelle, how are you?"

"Oh, I'm doing OK, all considered," I replied with a bit of anger in my voice. "I've got a memo to give you all."

After they read the memo they all began to laugh. "Really, Mike," Josie said, "I never expected this of you. And you had to give every women at work a copy of this! Wow! You know, everybody will be laughing at you!"

"Sorry about your "unwanted male characteristic", Mike. Don't you wish you had a nice girl "characteristic" instead," Lisa said, enjoying all this greatly.

None of the others in my department were so cruel; for the most part they seemed to truly sympathize with me. Most of the comments I received were supporting.

By the time I finished distributing the memo the day was over. I slowly cleared my desk, purposely leaving a little late to avoid unnecessary contact. Angie, who was also running late, walked with me to my car. I was immensely relieved that the day, by far the most stressful and eventful one of my life, was at last winding down.

"Say, Michelle, I read that memo. Did you actually write that," asked Angie as we walked through the nearly deserted office.

"No, Angie, I didn't. It was Ellen and Jill's doing. Ellen basically told me to sign it or else. Jill didn't intend to be mean or hurtful. She was just trying to help me out. But Ellen, she only wanted to humiliate me with that damn memo, and she did."

"Well," Angie said, weighing her words carefully, "the memo wasn't really that bad. But I bet you were a bit embarrassed having to hand it out to everyone. It definitely severs all your ties to Mike. Looks like from now on you're Michelle, like it or not."

"Yea, Angie, I guess so. From now on I'm Michelle. Mike the man is dead; Michelle the woman has taken his place. I'll have to accept it, won't I," I mused.

"Believe me, it'll be for the best. Before you know it you'll be just like the rest of us, worrying about what dress to wear, complaining when your pantyhose runs, maybe even hoping for Mister True Love. So. Michelle, are you gonna be OK tonight," Angie asked with concern.

"Yea, Angie, I will. The worst of it is over, isn't it? I mean, after today, tomorrow will be a breeze. Now I just want to go home, take off these high heels and tight panties, and relax! How about you? Got any plans?"

"No, just pick up the kids, feed em, get them to do their homework, that type of stuff. Hey, maybe you'd like to come by some evening this week and have dinner with us."

"Oh, I don't know. Your son might not take to a guy in high heels. I wouldn't be much of a role model, would I," I said with some bitterness.

"Hey, Michelle! Come back to planet earth, girl! Are you forgetting something? You aren't a guy in high heels, you're a woman, plain and simple. Just forget that other life of yours. It's over. You obviously didn't like it much at all, or you wouldn't be wearing that nice outfit now, would you? So just rejoice in your new identity. And don't worry, my son and my daughter will know you only as Michelle. So what do you say, is it a deal?"

"Well, it would be fun Angie. I could help you with the cooking or something. But what should I wear?"

"Gosh, Michelle, you do sound just like a girl! Always worrying about what to wear. Just put on something cute and comfortable. Tell you what: you can make a salad and the potatoes, and together we'll barbecue hamburgers. I'll make the dessert. How about Wednesday at six?"

"Sure, Angie. And thanks," I said.

"It's OK. I know this has all been kinda tough for you. While I realize you want to be a girl, you probably could do without the embarrassment of changing from a man into a girl. Tell me, do you still think it worth the trouble?"

I thought for a moment before answering. "To be honest, I was an emotional wreck this morning. But now, well, I feel kind of at peace, almost happy in a way. Instead of being embarrassed by wearing these women's clothes, I now feel very comfortable in them. Not physically, but spiritually. Maybe I will be happier as a woman. Really, Angie, I'll have to sort all this out in my mind. But I must say, you've helped me today more than you would believe, just by treating me as a person."

"Not just as a person, Michelle, but as a woman," Angie said seriously.

When we reached her car, Angie took my hand for a second and squeezed it softly. "Have a nice evening, young lady," Angie said as she leaned towards me and kissed my cheek. I waved to her as she drove off.

A light rain began to fall as I drove home. I stopped at the supermarket and bought some lettuce, tomatoes, and avocados, thinking that I would have to start dieting in order to keep a good figure. Nobody took a second look at me. To everyone there I was just another woman doing her grocery shopping.

The store was crowded with women, most wearing office attire, who had stopped by to purchase items for their family's dinner. I felt a bit of envy towards them, as they all had families and loved ones, husbands and kids. They all fit in. I, on the other hand, was a misfit. I realized, for the first time in my life, that I had never really fit in. As a man I had always been alone. But now, as a woman, maybe this all would change; and even if it didn't, I still felt oddly comfortable as a woman, as if I had for the first time found true peace. My soul was content; maybe God somehow meant for all this to happen.

I stood in the checkout line at the busy supermarket. In front of me were three young ladies, all nicely dressed and pretty. Each wore a skirt; so did I. Each wore pantyhose which showed her smooth, attractive legs; so did I. Each wore high heels, as did I. The woman checking out set her purse down and removed her checkbook to pay for her purchases; soon it would be my turn and I, too, would perform the same ritual, as I, too, now carried a purse. With an inner joy I realized how very much alike we were, these women and I.

Yes, I envied these women, but I also felt proud of myself, proud to be accepted as a female, proud to be almost one of them. Proud, in fact, to be wearing my high heels with my pretty, rose colored outfit with the short skirt.