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The Perfect Secretary
"Cissy, would you bring in the projected revenues on the l'Audace
line, please?"
"In a minute, Ms. Fontaine. They're coming off the Laserjet right
now."
I reached over and withdrew the reports from the output stacker. The
stark, white paper was a contrast to my long, slender fingers with
their ultra-long, crimson nails. I patted an errant lock of my full,
fluffy, golden-blonde mane back in place, checked my make-up in the
desk-drawer mirror, then strode into my boss's office with short,
delicate steps, full breasts jiggling freely within a low-cut silk
blouse, which I had purposely left open to the third button. My full,
rounded hips undulated smoothly within the confinement of a slim,
hobbling skirt. I was aware of the soft, sensuous rustle of my satin-
and-lace slip as I moved. As the Personal Secretary to the CEO of
Toujour Cosmetics, I am expected to look, and act, like Femininity
personified; Ms. Fontaine insists on it.
"Close the door, Cissy."
I did so, and stood expectantly before my boss. To call Mimi
Fontaine beautiful is to call the Grand Canyon a hole in the ground.
She took my breath away the first time I saw her, and every time
since. She stood, and walked around her desk to stand in front of me.
Even in my five-inch spike heels, I was concious of having to look up
to her, perched regally on her own skyscraper stilettos. She took the
reports from my hand and placed them casually on her desk, then took
me in her arms and kissed me passionately. I yielded willingly to her
advances, closing my eyes with a sigh and placing my hands lightly on
her shoulders. I adore being ravished by my lover this way. I find it
sinfully exciting when she does so at the office, when anyone might
walk in and catch us. I am always dress and make up for her as
provocatively as I can; she loves her "little blonde bimbo". I know
she will be watching, and wanting me. We have been playing this
little game since the first day I came to work for her - as a woman.
Things could be worse. Really. At least, I have a job. Most of my
friends from school are still sending resumes, filling out
applications, and figuring out what this personnel director or that
manager want to hear in an interview. Granted, I did not do four years
of straight-A work in Computer Science with this in mind. In better
times, I would have moved right into a Fortune-200 MIS organization,
hopefully in Technical Services, at least in Applications Development.
C.C. Brent, Software Engineer; Man on the Move. But these are not
better times, and I needed a job.
Okay, l'Audace Cosmetics is not Fortune-200. But it is
Fortune-1000, and on the way up. It has several well-known lines of
cosmetics and fragrances, and has an extensive Biochemical Research
and Development facility. I interviewed directly with the CEO and
founder, Mimi Fontaine. The word is, she started the company with the
money from her late-husband's life insurance. The company now has
annual sales approaching thirty million dollars. CEO's just don't come
any smarter or savvier than Ms. Fontaine. Unlike other CEO's, Mimi
Fontaine is also warm and personable, the kind of person you would
want as a friend. She has created a progressive, innovative work
environment to keep her mostly-female employees happy, with features
such as job-sharing, child care, a company health club, even a
full-service beauty salon which doubles as a `test kitchen' for new
products. Best-available data puts her in her mid-thirties (true), but
she is one of those women who can truly be described as `ageless', and
probably will be for a long time to come.
My interview was, to say the least, different. In the thirty
seconds it took to walk from the reception area to Ms. Fontaine's
office, I realized I was the only male in sight.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Brent. May I call you..."
"C.C. will be fine, thank you. I will NEVER forgive my father for
sticking me with `Calvin Coolidge'. He had a fascination for
politicians who didn't say much; he called them a `dying breed'.
`Silent Cal' was his kind of guy. It caused me no end of trouble
when I was growing up. A small, slender boy with his mother's
prominent cheekbones, delicate features, AND named Calvin? He
might as well have painted a bull's eye on my forehead; I was the
target for every schoolyard bully for fifty miles. Really, one of
these days I am going to have it changed to something a little
more prosaic - Millard Fillmore, perhaps."
The most wonderful sound in the world, with the possible exception
of the words "you're hired", is the sound of Mimi Fontaine's laughter.
It has a rich, warm, musical quality to it that makes you believe the
world really is a pretty wonderful place. I was treated to that
wonderful sound for a good sixty seconds, which is how long it took
Ms. Fontaine to compose herself and dab away the tears from her eyes.
"I'm sorry, C.C. That was the best laugh I have had in years. I
hope the girls didn't give you any 'cat calls' as you walked
through the office. We don't have many men working here; mostly
just in Shipping and Receiving and Maintenance. I don't
specifically exclude men; that would be unconscionable as well as
against the law. I pride myself on my policy of affirmative hiring
practices, particularly women. I was most impressed with your
credentials. We don't often see Phi Beta Kappas here, especially
for a position of this nature. L'Audace is a rapidly-growing
company. In fact, we have grown so rapidly that we have outgrown
my ability to keep track of it all. I am desperate to find someone
who can make some sense of the mass of data coming into my
office. I need clear, concise, accurate reports, from which I can
make my business decisions. I had envisioned hiring a personable,
attractive young career woman to function as my Personal
Secretary, one who fit the image of the chic-but-sexy 'Woman Of
The Nineties' we target as our primary market, one who also had
skills in programming, spreadsheets, and databases. It appears
that was not a very realistic goal. I have already gone through
several who either misrepresented their credentials, weren't
reliable, or ran off with their boyfriends. You, on the other
hand, have exactly the professional qualifications I am looking
for - perhaps TOO good. I wouldn't embarrass you by calling you my
'secretary'. If I were to hire you, your title would be `Personal
Assistant', and I would get someone from Word Processing to do the
clerical work. I'm inclined to give you the job for your sense of
humor, if not your superior qualifications, but the fact is, you
are over-qualified. I'm worried you will only stay until you can
find something better, then leave me in the lurch."
I had to admit; that thought HAD crossed my mind. Title or no, I could
do a lot more than be a glorified secretary. But I liked this woman
immensely (yes, I was talking with my head, not my crotch), and I had
heard horror stories about how cold and impersonal large corporations
could be. And I really needed a job.
"Most of my friends will never MEET a CEO, let alone work closely
with one. The chance to help make strategic plans that shape a
company's future is an opportunity that happens once in a
lifetime. I can't pass this up."
It wasn't really a lie. I did want the opportunity to start "at the
top", working in the rarified air of the Executive Suite. It would be
great experience, especially when the economy improved and the Big
Boys came knocking at my door.
I was treated to that other wonderful sound a few minutes later. I
got the job because I was qualified (and then some), because I was
confident in my abilities - and because I made her laugh. She set me
up in a small office down the hall from hers and made me promise - on
pain of death or termination, whichever hurt more - that I would call
her `Mimi' in private and save `Ms. Fontaine' for the outer office.
That suited me just fine. It only took a few weeks to map out and code
the files and programs to give her all the information she required at
the touch of a few keystrokes. Child's play, really - but no
programmer worth his salt would ever admit that. Better to keep them
in awe. After that, it was just a matter of feeding in data, cranking
out reports and graphs, and working on special projects.
Much to my surprise and delight, I was readily accepted by the
rest of the office staff. They enjoyed my whimsical sense of humor and
outgoing personality and invited me to join them on breaks and
lunches. In time, even the distinctions between our sexes became
blurred; they would gossip with me about anything and everything. When
they began to talk about boyfriends, husbands, or the hot new romances
on the soap operas as though we were girls at a slumber party, I asked
them if they weren't a little embarrassed talking to a man about things
like that. "Oh, don't be a Poop, Cissy," teased Linda Kramer, the
vivacious Accounts Receivable supervisor. I was perplexed and showed it.
"Cissy? Who is Cissy?"
"You are, Silly. 'C.C.' sounds too cold and impersonal. You are too
much fun and MUCH too pretty for that! It just seems more natural
to think of you as 'Cissy', a gorgeous girlfriend who dresses VERY
badly. Really, you are wasted in that suit. You would be a knockout
in a skirt and heels."
Naomi Randall, the Office Manager, added her two cents' worth.
"You certainly would. Just let that beautiful blonde hair grow a bit
more, so we can style it for you, then we add a little make-up and
voila; you would make an ADORABLE girl!"
I knew when I was out-gunned. I guess other men would have felt threatened
by such good-natured teasing of their masculinity. I am not 'other men'.
First, I don't take myself or my 'masculinity' that seriously. Second, I
perceived no malice in their banter. They were right about one thing; I was
having way too much fun with this.
"Well, we shouldn't let a little thing like a penis get in the way of
true friendship. Just call me Cissy, and we'll tell Ms. Fontaine we
have to make a slight change in the Dress Code."
They howled with laughter. From then on, we were great friends. To my
chagrin, the name stuck; even Mimi teasingly called me 'Cissy' in private.
I didn't intend to get into an office romance, let alone one with
Mimi. Everything I had ever heard told me they were the Kiss of Death
to a career. Certainly there is nothing new about a CEO getting
personally involved with his Personal Assistant; that has been going
on a lot longer than anyone can remember. This is The Nineties; there
is no reason why a rich, powerful, beautiful, female CEO cannot get
involved with her younger, male P.A.; it's just - different. It took a
little getting-used-to.
No matter how discreetly such an affair is conducted, it will
always be found out; that is the Law of the (Corporate) Jungle. Linda
and Naomi took me to task during break one morning.
"So, Cissy, you've been putting in a lot of overtime lately. Has
Mimi been giving you - dictation?"
Linda winked slyly as she said it. Naomi ran with it.
"Perhaps we could help Cissy out by giving her a pair of knee
pads. She might need them."
"Naomi, didn't we hear Diane say she saw two people who looked
just like Cissy and Mimi having dinner at Morton's last weekend?
It must have been just a coincidence!"
I blushed beet-red. Naomi and Linda laughed. Linda gave me a hug.
Naomi reached across the table and placed her hand on mine.
"Seriously, you are both lovely people, and we're very happy for
the two of you," Linda said. "I'm just jealous. If I had known
Mimi Fontaine liked girls, I might have made a play for her
myself."
Linda was not far from the truth. In a private moment, Mimi
revealed that my small, slender stature - I'm 5'7", and 135 - and my
`Barbie-doll beauty' attracted her from the beginning. She told me
that she didn't want a `he-man'; her late husband had been like that.
He was constantly unfaithful, overbearing, abusive, and died of a
heart attack while fucking his then-current mistress.
"It's just as well. I know he was planning to leave me for her
anyway. At least, he made it possible for me to create l'Audace,
which has always been my dream. Still, I don't ever want to go
through that again. I want someone who is tender, thoughtful,
considerate, and devoted to me - someone like you," she confided.
Mimi was not into traditional roles in our sexual relationship,
either. She told me she wanted a different kind of relationship
entirely. She explained tactfully that my "diminutive attributes"
would not satisfy her in the usual sense, but she found them greatly
appealing in a different way, one in which she could assert herself
freely. She liked to be the one to initiate our tender, passionate
love-making, preferring that I be passive and receptive to her
advances. She was ecstatic about oral sex, both giving and receiving,
and delighted in having me service her love nest with one of her large
dildos while I lay beside her in a soft, sensual embrace. I found
this arrangement strangely appealing. I no longer had to compensate
for my small stature by being overly-aggressive. I could now
concentrate on pleasing my lover and focusing on my own pleasurable
sensations as well. I became very adept at giving her multiple
orgasms, deftly perceiving when she was near the edge and keeping her
there, in exquisite torment, for up to an hour before allowing her
release. She also could subject me to similar torture, and frequently
did.
One of Mimi's endearing qualities was her aroma. Certainly, at any
given time she wore any one of the many fragrances we market, but
there was something else as well; something oddly compelling. I asked
her about it one evening. She smiled and kissed my cheek.
"Silly! That's Eros, something that R&D is in the final stages of
testing. Don't you read any of those reports you generate for me?
It has been a major line-item in our research budget for a year.
We are branching out into pharmaceuticals, just like Shiseido, but
right now, our drugs will still pertain to the realm of Cosmetics.
Eros is an oral or injectable drug that stimulates the body's
production of pheromones; Nature's own perfume. The body releases
them during mating to attract the opposite sex. Since it is taken
internally or intravenously, rather than applying it topically to
the skin like Musk oil, it lasts MUCH longer. We are almost ready
to apply for FDA approval. You know, I think you should try it.
It will make you even more attractive - and sexy - than you are
now."
"I'm not sure the world is ready for that," I replied coyly. "You
already cause the earth to move when you make love to me. If you
found me even more attractive, Humankind might not survive. But,
if you really want me to be irresistible - sure, I'll give it
a try."
I went on a regular regimen of Eros. Mimi made sure I never missed
a day taking the caplets, and supplemented my dosage with regular
injections. I didn't notice any particular change in the way I
smelled, but that is not unusual, even with colognes; after you wear
one for a while, you can't smell it any longer. Mimi DID notice a
difference. She told me I smelled wonderful, and that I was driving
her to distraction whenever I was near her. It seemed as though she
couldn't keep her hands off me, even when we were in her office at
work. She also became very possessive of me, to the point that she
demanded I move in with her, saying that she wanted to keep me all to
herself. Weird, huh? Anyway, I yielded to her without protest.
I began experiencing some difficulty with my work. I had reviewed
some of the financial-reporting programs I had written earlier and had
considerable difficulty following the flow of logic. It had all seemed
so simple then; now, it was like reading Greek. Mimi assured me it was
no problem; probably just "Writer's Block" or some such. Since the
programs essentially ran themselves, Mimi convinced me to just leave
it alone for a while and concentrate on some of the less-demanding
clerical duties she needed to have performed. I began answering her
phone calls, typing up her correspondence, scheduling her meetings,
making reservations for business lunches, dinners, and travel,
receiving clients and vendors. Where before such tasks would have
seemed menial to me, I now regarded them as important and fulfilling.
In fact, I rather enjoyed them. It WAS kind of a hassle to dash back
and forth between my office and Mimi's to hand her correspondence for
her approval or to give her a message. Mimi offered to make my life a
little easier by setting up a work station outside her office,
complete with PC, printer, telephone, and a few other essentials. I
was grateful for the reprieve; business was growing, as was the crush
of telephone calls and documentation. Providing Mimi with the
logistical support she needed was demanding more and more of my time
and attention.
I was sitting at my workstation one day, deep in concentration,
and I became aware of Mimi standing beside me. She was watching me
intently, a bemused smile on her lips. I followed the direction of her
gaze and realized I had been unconsciously playing with my hair,
twirling an errant lock with my pen to keep it out of my eyes. My hair
had always been on the longish side, but it seemed to have gotten a
lot longer than usual in the weeks since my last haircut. I blushed.
"Sorry. I'll get it cut tomorrow," I responded sheepishly. "No, no,
that's not what I was implying at all," Mimi replied. "In fact, I
think it's kind of cute. I don't suppose I could persuade you to...let
it grow a bit more? Just for me?" I don't know why; that thought - and
the sincere manner in which Mimi made the request - really appealed to
me.
One morning, I noticed a little difficulty getting dressed for
work. My slim-fitting suit pants had become so tight through the hips,
I almost couldn't get the zipper closed. Also, my fitted shirt had
become a little too snug through the chest, and the material stretched
when I buttoned the buttons.
"My, aren't you becoming a little butterball!" Mimi exclaimed.
"All work and no play makes C.C. a blimp. I'm putting you on a
diet, and you are going to start taking aerobics classes with me.
I'll make sure my lover stays nice and trim for me."
She put me on a strict diet, replacing pizza and cheeseburgers
with salads, cola with sparkling water, and cakes, candies, and ice
cream with fruit and occasional frozen yogurt. She made good on her
other promise as well, introducing me to the joys (?) of aerobic
exercise classes in the company health club each night after work. I
had thought that I would attend class in my standard gym fare, a
T-shirt and shorts, but Mimi had other plans. Instead, she purchased
for me several sets of spandex leotards and tights, in colors ranging
from soft pastels to wild neons, a pair of white aerobic exercise
shoes, trimmed in pink, and a pink headband. I looked at her
dubiously, waiting for the punch line. She smiled at me coyly,
insisting that they would fit me better, support my body better during
the rigorous exercise - and that she thought they would look sexy on
me. "Besides," she giggled, "when I told Linda and Naomi we would be
joining them, they insisted that their girlfriend `Cissy' be properly
attired. How could I refuse such a charming idea - Cissy?" I knew when
I had been neatly set up, and we both laughed.
After several weeks, I lost about twenty pounds through the
combination of diet and exercise. My waist shrank to twenty-two inches
and my body became firm and toned. My already-longish hair was now
past my shoulders. It just seemed to grow so fast now - faster than it
ever had before! Mimi had grown more and more assertive in our
relationship and it had felt increasingly natural to submit to her
direction. I felt - I don't know - different. More delicate. More
passive. More aware of myself, my body. More aware of the way Mimi
responded to me and the desire I felt for her. More aware of the
physical sensations that our lovemaking set off within me. More sexy.
But my clothes still didn't fit; in fact, they looked ridiculous on
me. I had to cinch my belts tightly to hug my tiny waist. I couldn't
button my shirts or zip my zippers up at all. My hips, thighs, and
buttocks had become fuller, fleshier, more rounded. My chest changed
even more dramatically; I actually had a pair of firm, well-defined
breasts. Mimi assured me I had nothing to worry about, that my body
chemistry was adjusting unusually to my radical change in diet and
exercise and that it would sort itself out soon. When I meekly
suggested that perhaps I should stop, she appraised my body and
smiled.
"Don't be in such a hurry, Sweetheart," she murmured
appreciatively, eyeing me hungrily. "We'll just get you a new
wardrobe, something more becoming to your new attributes. I like you
just FINE the way you are. You look so much more - desirable now."
She emphasized the point with an embrace and a deep, soul-searing
kiss. She massaged my plush asscheeks, moving up my flared hips, flat
stomach, and narrow waist, until she came to my blossoming bosom. She
manipulated my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, and the
exquisite sensations from my sensitive nerve-endings jarred my senses.
She casually moved one hand gently down my body, then between my plump
asscheeks. Smiling coyly, she deftly inserted one long, slender finger
in my ass. The sensation jolted through me like an electric shock.
"I think you are ready now, Cissy," she purred.
She lay me down on the bed and placed a pillow under me, elevating my
bottom. Then she opened a drawer in the bedside table and withdrew a
huge double-ended dildo in a harness and a tube of lubricating gel.
She gasped softly as she slowly inserted one end of the cock in her
pussy, then fastened the harness around her hips. She coated the other
end liberally with gel, then mounted the bed and positioned herself
between my legs.
"My little Barbie Doll looks so womanly now," she cooed. "I have
been waiting for this moment since I first laid eyes on you."
I felt the pressure of my sphincter being parted, then her mammoth
member entered me, filling me up in a way I had never imagined. It was
my turn to gasp, as the pain from her assault washed over me. She
lowered her body on top of mine, raping my willing mouth with her
invading tongue as she thrust into me rhythmically, forcefully. The
initial pain subsided, and I felt only intense pleasure. I raised my
hips to meet her thrusts, driving the dong deeply into both of us.
Mimi increased the tempo, frantically humping her latex cock into me,
into her, building ecstasy upon ecstasy. We whimpered spasmodically,
to the pace of her pulsing plunger. We clung to each other desperately
as orgasm crashed down upon us in waves, leaving us spent, breathless,
and floating in space.
Afterward, I cuddled up in her arms, feeling warm, dreamy,
protected. I wanted to surrender myself completely to this woman I
loved. As if reading my thoughts, she smiled down at me, traced the
outline of my plush lips with her index finger, and spoke softly.
"You belong to me now, Baby Doll. Don't trouble yourself with
thoughts about making decisions, giving orders, being `a man';
I will make all of your decisions for you now. You are so soft,
sweet, delicate, and submissive to me. And now I have taken your
cherry. You are not a man anymore. Tonight, I made you a woman for
me. Tomorrow, I will make you ALL mine, Cissy. For ever and ever."
I only half-heard her words in my relaxed state. I thought I had
imagined them. I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Mimi woke me with a kiss. She was already up
and dressed for work.
"Come on, Sleepyhead, rise and shine. We have work to do today."
I did my usual bathroom routine, brushing my teeth and showering. I
never had much body hair, and lately I didn't seem to have any at
all. I headed for my closet to select a suit, when Mimi gently took me
in her arms and softly kissed me.
"You won't be needing those anymore. You can't wear them anyway,
remember? We're going to do something a little different today.
Trust me. I think you will enjoy it."
She led me to the bed, where she had laid out a deliciously feminine
outfit. I had thought she had decided to change clothes. Instead, she
picked up the lacy black bikini panties and held them up for me, smiling
mischievously.
"Slip these on, Cissy"
I was electrified. Last night came rushing back to me in vivid detail.
I wanted this, and her, more than life itself, but I was afraid. I
looked at her pensively.
"But how can we? How can I? What will they say at the office?"
She smiled that same mischievous smile and silenced me with one long,
slender index finger on my lips. At the same time, she moved her other
hand between my legs, inserting her middle finger in my love nest once
more. I sighed deeply as she slowly, rhythmically fucked me.
"Shhh. There now, isn't that better? You know you can't refuse me.
You know you don't WANT to. It feels SO much better to surrender
to me, doesn't it? Today I am going to make good on my promise to
make you ALL mine, forever and ever. And don't worry about the
girls at the office. I told them yesterday; they are expecting it.
Let's not disappoint them."
She gently removed her finger and held out the panties. I slipped
one leg into its opening, then the other. Mimi glided the panties up
my legs and over my hips with a faint rustle. Then she fastened a
black lace padded push-up bra around my chest and adjusted the straps.
My pert breasts were lifted and pushed together, forming a nice
cleavage. She then fastened a black lace garter belt around my narrow
waist and centered it, then handed me a pair of sheer, black
stockings, taught me how to bunch them up, insert my toes, then roll
them up my hairless legs. She helped me attach them to the garterbelt,
then smoothed them out to eliminate wrinkles.
Next, she slipped my arms through the sleeves of a V-neck black
chiffon blouse and buttoned the buttons. The deep "V" showed off a
generous amount of my cleavage, while the tailored body clung to my
narrow waist and the puffy sleeves caressed my arms gently. Then, I
stepped into a slim gray skirt which Mimi adjusted around my waist and
zipped closed. The skirt ended just below the knee, and hugged my hips
and thighs snugly. Mimi followed with the matching tailored gray
jacket with peplum waist, followed by black patent pumps with
five-inch spike heels. She added three gold neck chains, dangling gold
earrings, four gold bangles on each wrist, and a delicate gold chain
around my left ankle. Finally, she gathered my hair up in back and
fastened it with a banana comb.
"That will do until we get you to the salon. Let's go."
We strode out to the car, our spike heels clicking smartly on the
pavement. I discovered that, after some initial disorientation, I
could strut in a delicate, sure-footed manner in the high heels and
hobble skirt as if I was born to wear them. My rounded hips swiveled
to and fro in a most fetching way, without any conscious effort. I
found myself enjoying my new role immensely.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts, I didn't pay any attention to
the commute. I snapped out of my reverie as we pulled up at the
outside entrance to the salon. Mimi hurried me inside before anyone
could see us. We were met at the desk by Diane, Beth, Kelli, and
Ginger, the four salon operators.
"Hi, Ms. Fontaine. Wow! Hi, Cissy. You look great!"
"Hi, Diane. Here she is. Are you sure you understand what I want?"
"Sure, no problem. We'll do her up REAL good!"
Mimi turned to me, smiled, and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
"I have to run into the office for a bit and take care of a few
things. I'll be back later. You run along with the girls. Have
fun!"
She went out through the inside entrance and down the corridor to the
office. Diane grinned at me impishly and took my hand.
"Come with me, Sweetie. We've been dying to get our hands on you
for months! You are so lucky. Mimi told us to spare no expense to
make you gorgeous for her, and what Mimi wants, Mimi gets. We are
going to give you the Super Deluxe treatment!"
They sat me in a reclining salon chair and went to work. For the next
four hours, I was in absolute bliss as they performed their magic on
me. Diane was first, trimming, setting and perming my hair, then
placing me under the dryer, giving me a Cosmo to read while I waited.
With my hair dry and still in curlers, I was led back to the chair,
where Beth removed my shoes and stockings to give me a pedicure,
Ginger went to work on my manicure, and Kelli applied a facial pack.
While the other two were still busy on my hands and feet, Kelli
removed the pack, applied eyelash implants, and began applying
make-up. Once the other three were finished, Diane removed my curlers
and fluffed, arranged, and set my new hairstyle with spray. They
helped me out of the chair, replaced my stockings and shoes, then led
me to the full-length mirror. I stood in front of the mirror, stunned
at the reflection of the beautiful, chic, if slightly-overdone young
woman who stared back at me. Her face bore a creamy rose beige
foundation and powder, with crystal-blue eyes shadowed in pink and
mauve, outlined in black, with long, thick, furry, black-mascara-ed
lashes. Dusky rose blush caused her prominent cheekbones to smolder
with intensity. Her full, pouty lips were painted with a thick, creamy
coat of Softsilver Rose lipstick. Her one-and-one-half-inch,
square-cut sculptured nails were the same silvery-rose hue, and gave
her hands a long, slender, feminine appearance. She was obviously a
devotee of Big Hair; her full, fluffy blonde waves surrounded her head
like a golden halo, softly caressing her shoulders and back. She was
part Angel, part Vixen. It took a moment to realize she was ME.
Mimi entered quietly while I was lost in my discovery. She stood
by my side with her arms around my waist, beaming radiantly.
"You look FABULOUS! I can't wait to get you to the office and show
you off. They will be thrilled! Linda and Naomi told me months ago
what they said about you looking adorable as a girl, and I agreed
whole-heartedly; I thought so right from the beginning. I have
been attracted to your delicate, feminine beauty since I first
laid eyes on you, but you were much too aggressive and
independent, just like my late husband. I dreamed of turning you
into my submissive, feminized sex toy. In fact, every time I
thought about you as my blonde 'Barbie Doll', I had to frig myself
off. I put you on Eros because the smell of you made my fantasy
that much more real. Then the lab people came to me and told me
about unforeseen side-effects. Pheromones are hormone-derivative;
the Eros formula is based on an Estrogen matrix with luteinizing
and female growth hormones. The laboratory tests showed minimal,
if any, side-effects on females, but prolonged use of Eros by
males would cause rapid, profound physical and psychological
feminization, increased passivity, as well as some long-term
memory loss and impairment of cognition skills; we had
inadvertently created a 'Bimbo Bomb'. At first, I was crushed. All
those months of research and development went down the drain;
there was no way we could get FDA approval for Eros as an
over-the-counter drug, and it wouldn't generate enough revenue as
a prescription drug to offset the development costs. Then I
remembered you were already taking Eros, and those were exactly
the changes I desired in you. I wanted to see if the changes would
really happen - and they did! I nearly drooled as I watched you
transform into my fantasy lover right before my eyes. Now here you
are, exactly the way I wanted you; beautiful, sexy, submissive, and
just a little spacey - enough to make you happy and content with
your new lifestyle. I am ecstatic!"
"But what about me - I mean, what about C.C.? How can I - he - oh,
I'm so confused - how can C.C. go back to work now?"
Mimi smiled at me wickedly. Her eyes sparkled with an evil gleam.
"Isn't that just like a bimbo? Don't trouble yourself about C.C.,
Sweetie; he can't come back now. I let him go this morning while
you were getting pretty for me; processed his papers through
Personnel and everything. He was unreliable; he would have left
me, the first chance he got, to go to some big corporation. I
kicked him out of my house, too, and had all his clothes thrown
into the garbage. His career is finished; I know I won't give him
a recommendation. Good Riddance. Besides, I don't need him
anymore. I've even eliminated the position of 'Personal
Assistant'. I think I can get by quite nicely with a secretary
now; I finally found someone with EXACTLY the right credentials
to suit my needs - someone who WON'T be leaving me. Just to make
sure, I am going to double your dosage of Eros, starting right
now. You are all mine, Babydoll - for ever and ever. Come along,
Cissy; it's time to start your new career!"
I don't think I have ever been happier in my life. My body just
never seems to stop developing! I am REALLY busty now; I possess full,
firm D-cup titties that jiggle ever-so-sweetly as I strut. My hips
have flared just as much, and I have a big, beautiful bubble butt. I
have a great job, with security, working for a company that would be
any girl's Dream Come True; I get all my cosmetics, perfume, and salon
visits FREE! I have a big desk, right outside Mimi's office, with
fresh flowers every day, and a beautiful antique brass nameplate:
CECILY BRENT
Executive Secretary
I go to lunch with my girlfriends every day and catch up on the
latest gossip. Linda and Naomi have been SO nice to me. Diane, Beth,
Kelli, and Ginger always want to try something new on me, whether
it's an even more outrageous hairstyle (I guess I'm just an
airhead; I really LOVE my big hair!), a new shade of lipstick, eye
color scheme, or some such. Yesterday, they talked me into TWO INCH,
vivid-red sculptured nails, with matching lipstick! God, I look like
such a whore! Thank goodness the keyboard of my Word Processor has a
light touch; I am just getting used to typing with my new talons. Mimi
went absolutely bonkers last night when we made love; she SHIVERED
when I ever-so-gently raked her breasts, tummy, and thighs with my
claws. We do aerobics together every night, so I can keep my body nice
and firm for my lover. We go out shopping together after aerobics
class. I just love to find a new negligee or sexy new dress that I can
flaunt in front of Mimi at home and get her hot and bothered. The
girls tell me over and over how much better they like me than that
wimpy little C.C. that used to work here. Him! I can't even remember
what he looked like. No biggie. He deserved to be fired; everyone says
so. He's gone, I'm here, that's Life!
At home, Mimi is SUCH a sweetheart! I have the sexiest wardrobe,
furs, high heels 'til they are coming out of my ears! She even bought
me a bright red Corvette convertible for my birthday last month. She
bought me another birthday present too. I adore my new pussy, love the
smooth, slightly-swollen mound and delicate labia. You should SEE
Mimi's eyes light up when I come to work braless in a silk blouse and
tight skirt, or when I wear a demi-cupped corset under my negligee at
bedtime. The sensation of being invaded by Mimi's dildo is
indescribable!
I am wearing Mimi's engagement ring; she bought me a rock big
enough to choke a horse. We are planning a BIG wedding, with everyone
from the office, as well as our special friends who understand when
two women need to express their love for each other in that special
way. And you should see the wedding dress I had made! All scalloped
lace, with tight sleeves, an even-tighter, full-length skirt, and a
neckline that just BARELY covers my nipples; but since the bodice is
unlined, I won't be covering up TOO much! The dressmaker adored the
idea of me wearing a black leather corset and sheer black seamed
stockings under my gown. She accused me of being "such a little slut",
even as she fitted my nineteen-inch waistline. She also thought I was
out of my mind when I had her make the hem four inches longer than my
legs. She said I would be tripping all over it as I walked down the
aisle - until I showed her the white patent pumps with six-inch
stiletto heels I would be wearing with it.
L'Audace has gotten so big, we now have an Information Services
department that handles all our report processing. Thank goodness I
got rid of that yukky job. Really, it was all so confusing anymore!
All I have to do now is look beautiful, type up Mimi's correspondence,
set up her appointment schedule, make her reservations, and flash a
BIG smile (and my BIG boobs!) at all her visitors.
Mimi found a market for Eros after all - a very specialized,
discreet market of discerning dominant women who wish to transform
their boyfriends or husbands into girls like me. They are introduced
to Eros - either willingly or surreptitiously - and within weeks
become docile little wimps who submit willingly to their Mistress's
demands. Our "Typing Pool" consists of feminized males who are being
acclimated to their new bodies, personalities, and lifestyles. I am
their supervisor, role model, and "Personal Trainer", teaching them
their new secretarial skills as well as feminine mannerisms,
deportment, wardrobe, and how to properly serve their respective
Mistresses. I hand them off to the girls in the salon for an hour each
day to hone their skills in makeup and hair care, so our new
'secretaries' can present themselves in an attractive feminine image.
Of course, my most important function is to make myself available
to Mimi whenever she wants me. That's the best part. It is so exciting
for me to play the dutiful little secretary who gets ravished `against
her will' behind closed doors by her wonton boss. `Oh, please stop Ms.
Fontaine; I'm a GOOD girl!' Braless. In spike heels. And a skirt so
tight, you can see my crack. Sigh. Things could be worse. Really.
"Cissy, would you bring in the projected revenues on the l'Audace
line, please?"
"In a minute, Ms. Fontaine. They're coming off the Laserjet right
now."
I reached over and withdrew the reports from the output stacker. The
stark, white paper was a contrast to my long, slender fingers with
their ultra-long, crimson nails. I patted an errant lock of my full,
fluffy, golden-blonde mane back in place, checked my make-up in the
desk-drawer mirror, then strode into my boss's office with short,
delicate steps, full breasts jiggling freely within a low-cut silk
blouse, which I had purposely left open to the third button. My full,
rounded hips undulated smoothly within the confinement of a slim,
hobbling skirt. I was aware of the soft, sensuous rustle of my satin-
and-lace slip as I moved. As the Personal Secretary to the CEO of
Toujour Cosmetics, I am expected to look, and act, like Femininity
personified; Ms. Fontaine insists on it.
"Close the door, Cissy."
I did so, and stood expectantly before my boss. To call Mimi
Fontaine beautiful is to call the Grand Canyon a hole in the ground.
She took my breath away the first time I saw her, and every time
since. She stood, and walked around her desk to stand in front of me.
Even in my five-inch spike heels, I was concious of having to look up
to her, perched regally on her own skyscraper stilettos. She took the
reports from my hand and placed them casually on her desk, then took
me in her arms and kissed me passionately. I yielded willingly to her
advances, closing my eyes with a sigh and placing my hands lightly on
her shoulders. I adore being ravished by my lover this way. I find it
sinfully exciting when she does so at the office, when anyone might
walk in and catch us. I am always dress and make up for her as
provocatively as I can; she loves her "little blonde bimbo". I know
she will be watching, and wanting me. We have been playing this
little game since the first day I came to work for her - as a woman.
Things could be worse. Really. At least, I have a job. Most of my
friends from school are still sending resumes, filling out
applications, and figuring out what this personnel director or that
manager want to hear in an interview. Granted, I did not do four years
of straight-A work in Computer Science with this in mind. In better
times, I would have moved right into a Fortune-200 MIS organization,
hopefully in Technical Services, at least in Applications Development.
C.C. Brent, Software Engineer; Man on the Move. But these are not
better times, and I needed a job.
Okay, l'Audace Cosmetics is not Fortune-200. But it is
Fortune-1000, and on the way up. It has several well-known lines of
cosmetics and fragrances, and has an extensive Biochemical Research
and Development facility. I interviewed directly with the CEO and
founder, Mimi Fontaine. The word is, she started the company with the
money from her late-husband's life insurance. The company now has
annual sales approaching thirty million dollars. CEO's just don't come
any smarter or savvier than Ms. Fontaine. Unlike other CEO's, Mimi
Fontaine is also warm and personable, the kind of person you would
want as a friend. She has created a progressive, innovative work
environment to keep her mostly-female employees happy, with features
such as job-sharing, child care, a company health club, even a
full-service beauty salon which doubles as a `test kitchen' for new
products. Best-available data puts her in her mid-thirties (true), but
she is one of those women who can truly be described as `ageless', and
probably will be for a long time to come.
My interview was, to say the least, different. In the thirty
seconds it took to walk from the reception area to Ms. Fontaine's
office, I realized I was the only male in sight.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Brent. May I call you..."
"C.C. will be fine, thank you. I will NEVER forgive my father for
sticking me with `Calvin Coolidge'. He had a fascination for
politicians who didn't say much; he called them a `dying breed'.
`Silent Cal' was his kind of guy. It caused me no end of trouble
when I was growing up. A small, slender boy with his mother's
prominent cheekbones, delicate features, AND named Calvin? He
might as well have painted a bull's eye on my forehead; I was the
target for every schoolyard bully for fifty miles. Really, one of
these days I am going to have it changed to something a little
more prosaic - Millard Fillmore, perhaps."
The most wonderful sound in the world, with the possible exception
of the words "you're hired", is the sound of Mimi Fontaine's laughter.
It has a rich, warm, musical quality to it that makes you believe the
world really is a pretty wonderful place. I was treated to that
wonderful sound for a good sixty seconds, which is how long it took
Ms. Fontaine to compose herself and dab away the tears from her eyes.
"I'm sorry, C.C. That was the best laugh I have had in years. I
hope the girls didn't give you any 'cat calls' as you walked
through the office. We don't have many men working here; mostly
just in Shipping and Receiving and Maintenance. I don't
specifically exclude men; that would be unconscionable as well as
against the law. I pride myself on my policy of affirmative hiring
practices, particularly women. I was most impressed with your
credentials. We don't often see Phi Beta Kappas here, especially
for a position of this nature. L'Audace is a rapidly-growing
company. In fact, we have grown so rapidly that we have outgrown
my ability to keep track of it all. I am desperate to find someone
who can make some sense of the mass of data coming into my
office. I need clear, concise, accurate reports, from which I can
make my business decisions. I had envisioned hiring a personable,
attractive young career woman to function as my Personal
Secretary, one who fit the image of the chic-but-sexy 'Woman Of
The Nineties' we target as our primary market, one who also had
skills in programming, spreadsheets, and databases. It appears
that was not a very realistic goal. I have already gone through
several who either misrepresented their credentials, weren't
reliable, or ran off with their boyfriends. You, on the other
hand, have exactly the professional qualifications I am looking
for - perhaps TOO good. I wouldn't embarrass you by calling you my
'secretary'. If I were to hire you, your title would be `Personal
Assistant', and I would get someone from Word Processing to do the
clerical work. I'm inclined to give you the job for your sense of
humor, if not your superior qualifications, but the fact is, you
are over-qualified. I'm worried you will only stay until you can
find something better, then leave me in the lurch."
I had to admit; that thought HAD crossed my mind. Title or no, I could
do a lot more than be a glorified secretary. But I liked this woman
immensely (yes, I was talking with my head, not my crotch), and I had
heard horror stories about how cold and impersonal large corporations
could be. And I really needed a job.
"Most of my friends will never MEET a CEO, let alone work closely
with one. The chance to help make strategic plans that shape a
company's future is an opportunity that happens once in a
lifetime. I can't pass this up."
It wasn't really a lie. I did want the opportunity to start "at the
top", working in the rarified air of the Executive Suite. It would be
great experience, especially when the economy improved and the Big
Boys came knocking at my door.
I was treated to that other wonderful sound a few minutes later. I
got the job because I was qualified (and then some), because I was
confident in my abilities - and because I made her laugh. She set me
up in a small office down the hall from hers and made me promise - on
pain of death or termination, whichever hurt more - that I would call
her `Mimi' in private and save `Ms. Fontaine' for the outer office.
That suited me just fine. It only took a few weeks to map out and code
the files and programs to give her all the information she required at
the touch of a few keystrokes. Child's play, really - but no
programmer worth his salt would ever admit that. Better to keep them
in awe. After that, it was just a matter of feeding in data, cranking
out reports and graphs, and working on special projects.
Much to my surprise and delight, I was readily accepted by the
rest of the office staff. They enjoyed my whimsical sense of humor and
outgoing personality and invited me to join them on breaks and
lunches. In time, even the distinctions between our sexes became
blurred; they would gossip with me about anything and everything. When
they began to talk about boyfriends, husbands, or the hot new romances
on the soap operas as though we were girls at a slumber party, I asked
them if they weren't a little embarrassed talking to a man about things
like that. "Oh, don't be a Poop, Cissy," teased Linda Kramer, the
vivacious Accounts Receivable supervisor. I was perplexed and showed it.
"Cissy? Who is Cissy?"
"You are, Silly. 'C.C.' sounds too cold and impersonal. You are too
much fun and MUCH too pretty for that! It just seems more natural
to think of you as 'Cissy', a gorgeous girlfriend who dresses VERY
badly. Really, you are wasted in that suit. You would be a knockout
in a skirt and heels."
Naomi Randall, the Office Manager, added her two cents' worth.
"You certainly would. Just let that beautiful blonde hair grow a bit
more, so we can style it for you, then we add a little make-up and
voila; you would make an ADORABLE girl!"
I knew when I was out-gunned. I guess other men would have felt threatened
by such good-natured teasing of their masculinity. I am not 'other men'.
First, I don't take myself or my 'masculinity' that seriously. Second, I
perceived no malice in their banter. They were right about one thing; I was
having way too much fun with this.
"Well, we shouldn't let a little thing like a penis get in the way of
true friendship. Just call me Cissy, and we'll tell Ms. Fontaine we
have to make a slight change in the Dress Code."
They howled with laughter. From then on, we were great friends. To my
chagrin, the name stuck; even Mimi teasingly called me 'Cissy' in private.
I didn't intend to get into an office romance, let alone one with
Mimi. Everything I had ever heard told me they were the Kiss of Death
to a career. Certainly there is nothing new about a CEO getting
personally involved with his Personal Assistant; that has been going
on a lot longer than anyone can remember. This is The Nineties; there
is no reason why a rich, powerful, beautiful, female CEO cannot get
involved with her younger, male P.A.; it's just - different. It took a
little getting-used-to.
No matter how discreetly such an affair is conducted, it will
always be found out; that is the Law of the (Corporate) Jungle. Linda
and Naomi took me to task during break one morning.
"So, Cissy, you've been putting in a lot of overtime lately. Has
Mimi been giving you - dictation?"
Linda winked slyly as she said it. Naomi ran with it.
"Perhaps we could help Cissy out by giving her a pair of knee
pads. She might need them."
"Naomi, didn't we hear Diane say she saw two people who looked
just like Cissy and Mimi having dinner at Morton's last weekend?
It must have been just a coincidence!"
I blushed beet-red. Naomi and Linda laughed. Linda gave me a hug.
Naomi reached across the table and placed her hand on mine.
"Seriously, you are both lovely people, and we're very happy for
the two of you," Linda said. "I'm just jealous. If I had known
Mimi Fontaine liked girls, I might have made a play for her
myself."
Linda was not far from the truth. In a private moment, Mimi
revealed that my small, slender stature - I'm 5'7", and 135 - and my
`Barbie-doll beauty' attracted her from the beginning. She told me
that she didn't want a `he-man'; her late husband had been like that.
He was constantly unfaithful, overbearing, abusive, and died of a
heart attack while fucking his then-current mistress.
"It's just as well. I know he was planning to leave me for her
anyway. At least, he made it possible for me to create l'Audace,
which has always been my dream. Still, I don't ever want to go
through that again. I want someone who is tender, thoughtful,
considerate, and devoted to me - someone like you," she confided.
Mimi was not into traditional roles in our sexual relationship,
either. She told me she wanted a different kind of relationship
entirely. She explained tactfully that my "diminutive attributes"
would not satisfy her in the usual sense, but she found them greatly
appealing in a different way, one in which she could assert herself
freely. She liked to be the one to initiate our tender, passionate
love-making, preferring that I be passive and receptive to her
advances. She was ecstatic about oral sex, both giving and receiving,
and delighted in having me service her love nest with one of her large
dildos while I lay beside her in a soft, sensual embrace. I found
this arrangement strangely appealing. I no longer had to compensate
for my small stature by being overly-aggressive. I could now
concentrate on pleasing my lover and focusing on my own pleasurable
sensations as well. I became very adept at giving her multiple
orgasms, deftly perceiving when she was near the edge and keeping her
there, in exquisite torment, for up to an hour before allowing her
release. She also could subject me to similar torture, and frequently
did.
One of Mimi's endearing qualities was her aroma. Certainly, at any
given time she wore any one of the many fragrances we market, but
there was something else as well; something oddly compelling. I asked
her about it one evening. She smiled and kissed my cheek.
"Silly! That's Eros, something that R&D is in the final stages of
testing. Don't you read any of those reports you generate for me?
It has been a major line-item in our research budget for a year.
We are branching out into pharmaceuticals, just like Shiseido, but
right now, our drugs will still pertain to the realm of Cosmetics.
Eros is an oral or injectable drug that stimulates the body's
production of pheromones; Nature's own perfume. The body releases
them during mating to attract the opposite sex. Since it is taken
internally or intravenously, rather than applying it topically to
the skin like Musk oil, it lasts MUCH longer. We are almost ready
to apply for FDA approval. You know, I think you should try it.
It will make you even more attractive - and sexy - than you are
now."
"I'm not sure the world is ready for that," I replied coyly. "You
already cause the earth to move when you make love to me. If you
found me even more attractive, Humankind might not survive. But,
if you really want me to be irresistible - sure, I'll give it
a try."
I went on a regular regimen of Eros. Mimi made sure I never missed
a day taking the caplets, and supplemented my dosage with regular
injections. I didn't notice any particular change in the way I
smelled, but that is not unusual, even with colognes; after you wear
one for a while, you can't smell it any longer. Mimi DID notice a
difference. She told me I smelled wonderful, and that I was driving
her to distraction whenever I was near her. It seemed as though she
couldn't keep her hands off me, even when we were in her office at
work. She also became very possessive of me, to the point that she
demanded I move in with her, saying that she wanted to keep me all to
herself. Weird, huh? Anyway, I yielded to her without protest.
I began experiencing some difficulty with my work. I had reviewed
some of the financial-reporting programs I had written earlier and had
considerable difficulty following the flow of logic. It had all seemed
so simple then; now, it was like reading Greek. Mimi assured me it was
no problem; probably just "Writer's Block" or some such. Since the
programs essentially ran themselves, Mimi convinced me to just leave
it alone for a while and concentrate on some of the less-demanding
clerical duties she needed to have performed. I began answering her
phone calls, typing up her correspondence, scheduling her meetings,
making reservations for business lunches, dinners, and travel,
receiving clients and vendors. Where before such tasks would have
seemed menial to me, I now regarded them as important and fulfilling.
In fact, I rather enjoyed them. It WAS kind of a hassle to dash back
and forth between my office and Mimi's to hand her correspondence for
her approval or to give her a message. Mimi offered to make my life a
little easier by setting up a work station outside her office,
complete with PC, printer, telephone, and a few other essentials. I
was grateful for the reprieve; business was growing, as was the crush
of telephone calls and documentation. Providing Mimi with the
logistical support she needed was demanding more and more of my time
and attention.
I was sitting at my workstation one day, deep in concentration,
and I became aware of Mimi standing beside me. She was watching me
intently, a bemused smile on her lips. I followed the direction of her
gaze and realized I had been unconsciously playing with my hair,
twirling an errant lock with my pen to keep it out of my eyes. My hair
had always been on the longish side, but it seemed to have gotten a
lot longer than usual in the weeks since my last haircut. I blushed.
"Sorry. I'll get it cut tomorrow," I responded sheepishly. "No, no,
that's not what I was implying at all," Mimi replied. "In fact, I
think it's kind of cute. I don't suppose I could persuade you to...let
it grow a bit more? Just for me?" I don't know why; that thought - and
the sincere manner in which Mimi made the request - really appealed to
me.
One morning, I noticed a little difficulty getting dressed for
work. My slim-fitting suit pants had become so tight through the hips,
I almost couldn't get the zipper closed. Also, my fitted shirt had
become a little too snug through the chest, and the material stretched
when I buttoned the buttons.
"My, aren't you becoming a little butterball!" Mimi exclaimed.
"All work and no play makes C.C. a blimp. I'm putting you on a
diet, and you are going to start taking aerobics classes with me.
I'll make sure my lover stays nice and trim for me."
She put me on a strict diet, replacing pizza and cheeseburgers
with salads, cola with sparkling water, and cakes, candies, and ice
cream with fruit and occasional frozen yogurt. She made good on her
other promise as well, introducing me to the joys (?) of aerobic
exercise classes in the company health club each night after work. I
had thought that I would attend class in my standard gym fare, a
T-shirt and shorts, but Mimi had other plans. Instead, she purchased
for me several sets of spandex leotards and tights, in colors ranging
from soft pastels to wild neons, a pair of white aerobic exercise
shoes, trimmed in pink, and a pink headband. I looked at her
dubiously, waiting for the punch line. She smiled at me coyly,
insisting that they would fit me better, support my body better during
the rigorous exercise - and that she thought they would look sexy on
me. "Besides," she giggled, "when I told Linda and Naomi we would be
joining them, they insisted that their girlfriend `Cissy' be properly
attired. How could I refuse such a charming idea - Cissy?" I knew when
I had been neatly set up, and we both laughed.
After several weeks, I lost about twenty pounds through the
combination of diet and exercise. My waist shrank to twenty-two inches
and my body became firm and toned. My already-longish hair was now
past my shoulders. It just seemed to grow so fast now - faster than it
ever had before! Mimi had grown more and more assertive in our
relationship and it had felt increasingly natural to submit to her
direction. I felt - I don't know - different. More delicate. More
passive. More aware of myself, my body. More aware of the way Mimi
responded to me and the desire I felt for her. More aware of the
physical sensations that our lovemaking set off within me. More sexy.
But my clothes still didn't fit; in fact, they looked ridiculous on
me. I had to cinch my belts tightly to hug my tiny waist. I couldn't
button my shirts or zip my zippers up at all. My hips, thighs, and
buttocks had become fuller, fleshier, more rounded. My chest changed
even more dramatically; I actually had a pair of firm, well-defined
breasts. Mimi assured me I had nothing to worry about, that my body
chemistry was adjusting unusually to my radical change in diet and
exercise and that it would sort itself out soon. When I meekly
suggested that perhaps I should stop, she appraised my body and
smiled.
"Don't be in such a hurry, Sweetheart," she murmured
appreciatively, eyeing me hungrily. "We'll just get you a new
wardrobe, something more becoming to your new attributes. I like you
just FINE the way you are. You look so much more - desirable now."
She emphasized the point with an embrace and a deep, soul-searing
kiss. She massaged my plush asscheeks, moving up my flared hips, flat
stomach, and narrow waist, until she came to my blossoming bosom. She
manipulated my nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, and the
exquisite sensations from my sensitive nerve-endings jarred my senses.
She casually moved one hand gently down my body, then between my plump
asscheeks. Smiling coyly, she deftly inserted one long, slender finger
in my ass. The sensation jolted through me like an electric shock.
"I think you are ready now, Cissy," she purred.
She lay me down on the bed and placed a pillow under me, elevating my
bottom. Then she opened a drawer in the bedside table and withdrew a
huge double-ended dildo in a harness and a tube of lubricating gel.
She gasped softly as she slowly inserted one end of the cock in her
pussy, then fastened the harness around her hips. She coated the other
end liberally with gel, then mounted the bed and positioned herself
between my legs.
"My little Barbie Doll looks so womanly now," she cooed. "I have
been waiting for this moment since I first laid eyes on you."
I felt the pressure of my sphincter being parted, then her mammoth
member entered me, filling me up in a way I had never imagined. It was
my turn to gasp, as the pain from her assault washed over me. She
lowered her body on top of mine, raping my willing mouth with her
invading tongue as she thrust into me rhythmically, forcefully. The
initial pain subsided, and I felt only intense pleasure. I raised my
hips to meet her thrusts, driving the dong deeply into both of us.
Mimi increased the tempo, frantically humping her latex cock into me,
into her, building ecstasy upon ecstasy. We whimpered spasmodically,
to the pace of her pulsing plunger. We clung to each other desperately
as orgasm crashed down upon us in waves, leaving us spent, breathless,
and floating in space.
Afterward, I cuddled up in her arms, feeling warm, dreamy,
protected. I wanted to surrender myself completely to this woman I
loved. As if reading my thoughts, she smiled down at me, traced the
outline of my plush lips with her index finger, and spoke softly.
"You belong to me now, Baby Doll. Don't trouble yourself with
thoughts about making decisions, giving orders, being `a man';
I will make all of your decisions for you now. You are so soft,
sweet, delicate, and submissive to me. And now I have taken your
cherry. You are not a man anymore. Tonight, I made you a woman for
me. Tomorrow, I will make you ALL mine, Cissy. For ever and ever."
I only half-heard her words in my relaxed state. I thought I had
imagined them. I drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next morning, Mimi woke me with a kiss. She was already up
and dressed for work.
"Come on, Sleepyhead, rise and shine. We have work to do today."
I did my usual bathroom routine, brushing my teeth and showering. I
never had much body hair, and lately I didn't seem to have any at
all. I headed for my closet to select a suit, when Mimi gently took me
in her arms and softly kissed me.
"You won't be needing those anymore. You can't wear them anyway,
remember? We're going to do something a little different today.
Trust me. I think you will enjoy it."
She led me to the bed, where she had laid out a deliciously feminine
outfit. I had thought she had decided to change clothes. Instead, she
picked up the lacy black bikini panties and held them up for me, smiling
mischievously.
"Slip these on, Cissy"
I was electrified. Last night came rushing back to me in vivid detail.
I wanted this, and her, more than life itself, but I was afraid. I
looked at her pensively.
"But how can we? How can I? What will they say at the office?"
She smiled that same mischievous smile and silenced me with one long,
slender index finger on my lips. At the same time, she moved her other
hand between my legs, inserting her middle finger in my love nest once
more. I sighed deeply as she slowly, rhythmically fucked me.
"Shhh. There now, isn't that better? You know you can't refuse me.
You know you don't WANT to. It feels SO much better to surrender
to me, doesn't it? Today I am going to make good on my promise to
make you ALL mine, forever and ever. And don't worry about the
girls at the office. I told them yesterday; they are expecting it.
Let's not disappoint them."
She gently removed her finger and held out the panties. I slipped
one leg into its opening, then the other. Mimi glided the panties up
my legs and over my hips with a faint rustle. Then she fastened a
black lace padded push-up bra around my chest and adjusted the straps.
My pert breasts were lifted and pushed together, forming a nice
cleavage. She then fastened a black lace garter belt around my narrow
waist and centered it, then handed me a pair of sheer, black
stockings, taught me how to bunch them up, insert my toes, then roll
them up my hairless legs. She helped me attach them to the garterbelt,
then smoothed them out to eliminate wrinkles.
Next, she slipped my arms through the sleeves of a V-neck black
chiffon blouse and buttoned the buttons. The deep "V" showed off a
generous amount of my cleavage, while the tailored body clung to my
narrow waist and the puffy sleeves caressed my arms gently. Then, I
stepped into a slim gray skirt which Mimi adjusted around my waist and
zipped closed. The skirt ended just below the knee, and hugged my hips
and thighs snugly. Mimi followed with the matching tailored gray
jacket with peplum waist, followed by black patent pumps with
five-inch spike heels. She added three gold neck chains, dangling gold
earrings, four gold bangles on each wrist, and a delicate gold chain
around my left ankle. Finally, she gathered my hair up in back and
fastened it with a banana comb.
"That will do until we get you to the salon. Let's go."
We strode out to the car, our spike heels clicking smartly on the
pavement. I discovered that, after some initial disorientation, I
could strut in a delicate, sure-footed manner in the high heels and
hobble skirt as if I was born to wear them. My rounded hips swiveled
to and fro in a most fetching way, without any conscious effort. I
found myself enjoying my new role immensely.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts, I didn't pay any attention to
the commute. I snapped out of my reverie as we pulled up at the
outside entrance to the salon. Mimi hurried me inside before anyone
could see us. We were met at the desk by Diane, Beth, Kelli, and
Ginger, the four salon operators.
"Hi, Ms. Fontaine. Wow! Hi, Cissy. You look great!"
"Hi, Diane. Here she is. Are you sure you understand what I want?"
"Sure, no problem. We'll do her up REAL good!"
Mimi turned to me, smiled, and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
"I have to run into the office for a bit and take care of a few
things. I'll be back later. You run along with the girls. Have
fun!"
She went out through the inside entrance and down the corridor to the
office. Diane grinned at me impishly and took my hand.
"Come with me, Sweetie. We've been dying to get our hands on you
for months! You are so lucky. Mimi told us to spare no expense to
make you gorgeous for her, and what Mimi wants, Mimi gets. We are
going to give you the Super Deluxe treatment!"
They sat me in a reclining salon chair and went to work. For the next
four hours, I was in absolute bliss as they performed their magic on
me. Diane was first, trimming, setting and perming my hair, then
placing me under the dryer, giving me a Cosmo to read while I waited.
With my hair dry and still in curlers, I was led back to the chair,
where Beth removed my shoes and stockings to give me a pedicure,
Ginger went to work on my manicure, and Kelli applied a facial pack.
While the other two were still busy on my hands and feet, Kelli
removed the pack, applied eyelash implants, and began applying
make-up. Once the other three were finished, Diane removed my curlers
and fluffed, arranged, and set my new hairstyle with spray. They
helped me out of the chair, replaced my stockings and shoes, then led
me to the full-length mirror. I stood in front of the mirror, stunned
at the reflection of the beautiful, chic, if slightly-overdone young
woman who stared back at me. Her face bore a creamy rose beige
foundation and powder, with crystal-blue eyes shadowed in pink and
mauve, outlined in black, with long, thick, furry, black-mascara-ed
lashes. Dusky rose blush caused her prominent cheekbones to smolder
with intensity. Her full, pouty lips were painted with a thick, creamy
coat of Softsilver Rose lipstick. Her one-and-one-half-inch,
square-cut sculptured nails were the same silvery-rose hue, and gave
her hands a long, slender, feminine appearance. She was obviously a
devotee of Big Hair; her full, fluffy blonde waves surrounded her head
like a golden halo, softly caressing her shoulders and back. She was
part Angel, part Vixen. It took a moment to realize she was ME.
Mimi entered quietly while I was lost in my discovery. She stood
by my side with her arms around my waist, beaming radiantly.
"You look FABULOUS! I can't wait to get you to the office and show
you off. They will be thrilled! Linda and Naomi told me months ago
what they said about you looking adorable as a girl, and I agreed
whole-heartedly; I thought so right from the beginning. I have
been attracted to your delicate, feminine beauty since I first
laid eyes on you, but you were much too aggressive and
independent, just like my late husband. I dreamed of turning you
into my submissive, feminized sex toy. In fact, every time I
thought about you as my blonde 'Barbie Doll', I had to frig myself
off. I put you on Eros because the smell of you made my fantasy
that much more real. Then the lab people came to me and told me
about unforeseen side-effects. Pheromones are hormone-derivative;
the Eros formula is based on an Estrogen matrix with luteinizing
and female growth hormones. The laboratory tests showed minimal,
if any, side-effects on females, but prolonged use of Eros by
males would cause rapid, profound physical and psychological
feminization, increased passivity, as well as some long-term
memory loss and impairment of cognition skills; we had
inadvertently created a 'Bimbo Bomb'. At first, I was crushed. All
those months of research and development went down the drain;
there was no way we could get FDA approval for Eros as an
over-the-counter drug, and it wouldn't generate enough revenue as
a prescription drug to offset the development costs. Then I
remembered you were already taking Eros, and those were exactly
the changes I desired in you. I wanted to see if the changes would
really happen - and they did! I nearly drooled as I watched you
transform into my fantasy lover right before my eyes. Now here you
are, exactly the way I wanted you; beautiful, sexy, submissive, and
just a little spacey - enough to make you happy and content with
your new lifestyle. I am ecstatic!"
"But what about me - I mean, what about C.C.? How can I - he - oh,
I'm so confused - how can C.C. go back to work now?"
Mimi smiled at me wickedly. Her eyes sparkled with an evil gleam.
"Isn't that just like a bimbo? Don't trouble yourself about C.C.,
Sweetie; he can't come back now. I let him go this morning while
you were getting pretty for me; processed his papers through
Personnel and everything. He was unreliable; he would have left
me, the first chance he got, to go to some big corporation. I
kicked him out of my house, too, and had all his clothes thrown
into the garbage. His career is finished; I know I won't give him
a recommendation. Good Riddance. Besides, I don't need him
anymore. I've even eliminated the position of 'Personal
Assistant'. I think I can get by quite nicely with a secretary
now; I finally found someone with EXACTLY the right credentials
to suit my needs - someone who WON'T be leaving me. Just to make
sure, I am going to double your dosage of Eros, starting right
now. You are all mine, Babydoll - for ever and ever. Come along,
Cissy; it's time to start your new career!"
I don't think I have ever been happier in my life. My body just
never seems to stop developing! I am REALLY busty now; I possess full,
firm D-cup titties that jiggle ever-so-sweetly as I strut. My hips
have flared just as much, and I have a big, beautiful bubble butt. I
have a great job, with security, working for a company that would be
any girl's Dream Come True; I get all my cosmetics, perfume, and salon
visits FREE! I have a big desk, right outside Mimi's office, with
fresh flowers every day, and a beautiful antique brass nameplate:
CECILY BRENT
Executive Secretary
I go to lunch with my girlfriends every day and catch up on the
latest gossip. Linda and Naomi have been SO nice to me. Diane, Beth,
Kelli, and Ginger always want to try something new on me, whether
it's an even more outrageous hairstyle (I guess I'm just an
airhead; I really LOVE my big hair!), a new shade of lipstick, eye
color scheme, or some such. Yesterday, they talked me into TWO INCH,
vivid-red sculptured nails, with matching lipstick! God, I look like
such a whore! Thank goodness the keyboard of my Word Processor has a
light touch; I am just getting used to typing with my new talons. Mimi
went absolutely bonkers last night when we made love; she SHIVERED
when I ever-so-gently raked her breasts, tummy, and thighs with my
claws. We do aerobics together every night, so I can keep my body nice
and firm for my lover. We go out shopping together after aerobics
class. I just love to find a new negligee or sexy new dress that I can
flaunt in front of Mimi at home and get her hot and bothered. The
girls tell me over and over how much better they like me than that
wimpy little C.C. that used to work here. Him! I can't even remember
what he looked like. No biggie. He deserved to be fired; everyone says
so. He's gone, I'm here, that's Life!
At home, Mimi is SUCH a sweetheart! I have the sexiest wardrobe,
furs, high heels 'til they are coming out of my ears! She even bought
me a bright red Corvette convertible for my birthday last month. She
bought me another birthday present too. I adore my new pussy, love the
smooth, slightly-swollen mound and delicate labia. You should SEE
Mimi's eyes light up when I come to work braless in a silk blouse and
tight skirt, or when I wear a demi-cupped corset under my negligee at
bedtime. The sensation of being invaded by Mimi's dildo is
indescribable!
I am wearing Mimi's engagement ring; she bought me a rock big
enough to choke a horse. We are planning a BIG wedding, with everyone
from the office, as well as our special friends who understand when
two women need to express their love for each other in that special
way. And you should see the wedding dress I had made! All scalloped
lace, with tight sleeves, an even-tighter, full-length skirt, and a
neckline that just BARELY covers my nipples; but since the bodice is
unlined, I won't be covering up TOO much! The dressmaker adored the
idea of me wearing a black leather corset and sheer black seamed
stockings under my gown. She accused me of being "such a little slut",
even as she fitted my nineteen-inch waistline. She also thought I was
out of my mind when I had her make the hem four inches longer than my
legs. She said I would be tripping all over it as I walked down the
aisle - until I showed her the white patent pumps with six-inch
stiletto heels I would be wearing with it.
L'Audace has gotten so big, we now have an Information Services
department that handles all our report processing. Thank goodness I
got rid of that yukky job. Really, it was all so confusing anymore!
All I have to do now is look beautiful, type up Mimi's correspondence,
set up her appointment schedule, make her reservations, and flash a
BIG smile (and my BIG boobs!) at all her visitors.
Mimi found a market for Eros after all - a very specialized,
discreet market of discerning dominant women who wish to transform
their boyfriends or husbands into girls like me. They are introduced
to Eros - either willingly or surreptitiously - and within weeks
become docile little wimps who submit willingly to their Mistress's
demands. Our "Typing Pool" consists of feminized males who are being
acclimated to their new bodies, personalities, and lifestyles. I am
their supervisor, role model, and "Personal Trainer", teaching them
their new secretarial skills as well as feminine mannerisms,
deportment, wardrobe, and how to properly serve their respective
Mistresses. I hand them off to the girls in the salon for an hour each
day to hone their skills in makeup and hair care, so our new
'secretaries' can present themselves in an attractive feminine image.
Of course, my most important function is to make myself available
to Mimi whenever she wants me. That's the best part. It is so exciting
for me to play the dutiful little secretary who gets ravished `against
her will' behind closed doors by her wonton boss. `Oh, please stop Ms.
Fontaine; I'm a GOOD girl!' Braless. In spike heels. And a skirt so
tight, you can see my crack. Sigh. Things could be worse. Really.
