This started out as a stand-alone story, but eventually tied in to the Camp Slut saga
Night Shift Sissy
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and fantasy. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events are coincidental. This story is not intended to be an accurate reflection of any particular lifestyle.
I could never understand why my coworkers always balked at working nights. Every shift I took, I got more done in a few hours than I ever did while trying to concentrate with the distractions of the full office going about their own business. It also allowed me to indulge the fetishes that I did my best to keep secret. I would leave the house dressed in my sluttiest outfits and make up, my cock locked up in the smallest chastity device I could find, and enjoy wandering through the twenty-story office building, the echoes of my stilettos clicking against the tile floors loud in the silence. I would take the elevator from the garage up to my department's floor, bypassing the security desk completely, and sit at my desk working through pages and pages of coding in blissful piece.
I did not hear the elevator open, or the security door open with the normally loud clack. So absorbed in my work was I that my first indication that I was not alone that night was hearing Dwayne say, "What the fuck?" as he turned the corner into my cube. I spun in my chair to face him, my face showing the obvious shock at being discovered. I watched Dwayne's eyes as he took in the outfit I'd chosen for tonight: a light, peach blouse over a bright pink bra, filled out with my water-filled falsies; my black pleated skirt that fell mid-thigh when I was standing, and rode up to show the pink thong panties that matched my bras and the tops of my black garter stockings. I closed my legs quickly, my left hand moving to pull the skirt down while my right arm went across my chest.
"Chris? What the fuck are you doing?" Dwayne whispered loudly. I would never have thought that I would see a black man blush, let alone one as muscular as he was.
"D... Dwayne..." I coughed to shift my voice down from the high effeminate one I used when dressed like this to my normal tone. "What are you doing here?"
"Security called me. Said there was a woman in the building using your security credentials. He thought she... you... had stolen them and someone was trying to hack our systems. You're lucky that we have so many contractors on payroll right now, or I'd have called the police instead of coming in myself."
I crossed my ankles, pressing my knees together and still trying in vain to stretch a few more inches of length from the skirt. I brushed my hair back over my ear nervously. "Ok. So, now you know there is not someone who doesn't belong here. Now you can go home and we can forget this ever happened." I smiled up hopefully before turning back around to my keyboards.
"Oh, no you don't." Dwayne grabbed the back of my chair, pulling it out into the aisle and lifting it with one hand, depositing me rather unceremoniously on my ass on the floor. I scrambled up to my knees, pulling my skirt back down into place. I registered the sounds I was hearing, the clicking and whirring of Dwayne's phone taking a series of high-speed pictures of me. I heard the tell tale beep of the video recording start as he extended a hand out to me. "Let's get you on your feet so I can get a good look at you." He stepped back as I got to my feet, keeping himself between me and any escape. "Turn around, so I can see the back too." I stood there, my hands crossed in front of my skirt, beginning to see where this might be going. He looked at me from over his phone. "Do you want this sent to everyone in the company address book? No? Then turn your sissy ass around," he ordered. I chewed on my lower lip a little as I turned a slow circle in place, standing very straight to avoid showing off more than I had to.
I heard him laugh as I finished my turn, then his phone beep twice as he stopped one video and started another. "So, Chrissy," he taunted, "How badly do you want this kept secret?"
I blushed, my eyes going to his feet. "Wh.. what do you want? I don't have a lot of money, but I can try to get some together to buy those from you."
Dwayne made a show of thinking before smiling and shaking his head. "I get paid plenty, so you can keep your money. On your knees, Chrissy," he ordered.
The moment I feared and dreamed of had come. All the months I had been playing this game, growing my hair out so I wouldn't need wigs anymore, I fantasized about getting caught, and what I would have to do for their silence. I slowly sunk to my knees, settling back on my heels, hands folded in my lap.
His chuckle sent shivers down my body. "Such an obedient little sissy all of the sudden. Are you as slutty as you look? Crawl over here." I leaned forward, crawling with my ass pushed up and out, trying to be as sexy as I could be. As I got closer to him, I realized that I had wanted this to happen, that I had been working myself up for this moment. It didn't lessen the heat of humiliation that was building in me, but I noticed a different warmth starting to build lower down. I stopped in front of Dwayne and sat back, looking up at him, lifting my chin to show off the small dog collar around my neck, the tag catching the light and reflecting against his shirt, the shadowy word SLUT showing in the reflection.
"Well, slut. Pull it out and start sucking. If you're good at it, you might not have to do it for a living after I turn these into HR."
Even my lust couldn't keep me from blushing and whimpering quietly as I reached up to unzip his slacks. The bright pink of the polish on my stick-on nails contrasted against the black fabric as I carefully reached in to free his hardening shaft. I couldn't stop the soft gasp at the sight of the tool his clothing hid. It was almost as long as my forearm, and thick enough that I had to stretch my mouth to get around the head. I used both hands to slowly stroke him in time with pushing as much of him into my throat as I could manage. My eyes drifted closed as the feel of the soft skin slid across my lips, the salty musk of his sweat mixing with the waxy tang of my lipstick as it clung to his flesh. I shivered and moaned, letting go of his cock and grasping his hips, pushing him deeper into my mouth.
I gagged and coughed as the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat. I didn't pull him out or stop, but I slowed down, pushing steadily against him, easing him deeper into my throat with each stroke. I could feel him tense and relax, hear his moans. Each sign of his pleasure stoked the heat of mine. With a final desperate thrust, I felt my nose bury against the soft curls of his pubic hair. My body shook in ecstasy as I held myself there in triumph. I had deep throated this monster! I slowly backed away until only the tip of my tongue was touching the underside of his head. I looked up at his face and saw him looking back down at me. There was no malice in his face, no guile. There was only lust. I knew he saw a willing slut and wanted nothing more than to use it.
Without warning, I burst forward, swallowing his length in a single movement. That action was the breaking point. His free hand came down and pulled my hair up into a ponytail at the back of my head, and he used that grip to begin fucking my face, bestially, cruelly, using me as nothing more than a toy. I pulled my hands behind my back and reveled in the abuse. I closed my eyes, moaning around his cock when I could.
He pulled by head back hard, pulling his cock out of my mouth, nearly making me fall back before I could catch myself. I opened my eyes to see him stroking his shaft fast and hard right over my face. I opened my mouth wide, waiting, whispering, "yes... cum... yes..." while looking directly into his camera lens. The first, thick, ropy spurts of his semen shot over my mouth and landed across my eyes and into my hair. I blinked, but kept them open as he milked more of my prize from his balls into my mouth and across my face. I let it drip down my face, my chin, mix with my spittle as it ran down my neck and made wet spots on my sheer blouse. I waited until he was done stroking before I raised up enough to take his cock head between my lips and suckled out the last dregs of his seed. Once I was sure I would not get more, I let go of him and sat back on my heels, waiting.
I watched him recover himself as he circled me, recording the moment. Then he got close to make sure he caught the jizz that was cooling on my face, mixing with my ruined makeup. He stepped back, still focusing on me.
"Say your name."
"Christopher Davies."
"What is today's date?"
I looked over at the calendar and clock on my cube wall. "It's Wednesday, August ninth, at two forty five in the morning."
"What did you just do and why?"
I looked directly at the camera and smiled. "I just sucked Dwayne Maxwell's cock until he came all over my face and in my mouth so he would not tell everyone in the office that I am a sissy slut."
Dwayne stopped the recording and put his phone away, smiling at me. He walked closer, bending down so his face was close to mine. "That's a good little slut. Now, you come dressed like the sissy whore you are every night from now on. I might come in and use you, or I might not. If I find out you don't dress properly, or you decide that you don't like my cock in your mouth or your ass, then I send the videos and pictures to everyone in the company, post them on the internet with your name and phone number, and make sure everyone knows what you are. Understand?"
I nodded, the idea of the humiliation he promised both thrilling and terrifying. He patted me on the head and started walking toward the doors, putting away his schlong as he called over his shoulder, "Oh, and I'll tell the security guard about our arrangement. I'm sure he'll want a turn at your sissy ass, too, for his silence. Good night, Chrissy."
I just sat there on my knees for a few moments, processing what had happened, and what was going to happen. I slowly got to my feet, collected my purse from my cube, and went to the restroom to fix my makeup. My first look in the mirror was almost enough to make me cum. My lipstick was smeared all over my mouth and chin, my mascara as running down my cheeks, and I had drying cum on my face, in my hair, and on my shirt. I looked and felt dirty, slutty, used, and completely satisfied. I smiled at the slut in the mirror and went back to my desk without fixing anything. I just finished out the shift, logged off, and went home, waving at the security guard as I walked through the lobby.
As ordered, I came into work the next night in full slutty Chrissy mode. I stopped at the security desk and talked with the guard, letting him know that I had a couple high priority jobs to get done, but if he waiting until about three, I'd be happy to pay for his silence. He grinned and said he was looking forward to it.
As I got to my desk, I received a shock. There were two envelopes on my keyboards. I opened the first to find a letter of termination. Dwayne had talked to our manager and shown him the files, and I was fired for inappropriate conduct. There was a severance check for the amount of half a year of my salary, and a reference letter that stated I had been let go due to over-staffing. I was crushed. Dwayne had betrayed me. Oddly, that bothered me less than not being able to continue our games.
With a sigh, I opened the second envelope. As I pulled out the paperwork, it took a good thirty seconds for me to actually understand what I was reading. It was a contract for Christina Davies to work as a consultant for the position I had just be fired from, at a higher salary, with a better benefits package. The only requirement was that she- or I- had to agree to work night shift exclusively, aside from having to appear in person to sign the contracts with the manager. I giggled and danced around the office for a few minutes before I grabbed a few boxes and emptied my work-space. After all, Christina would have to bring her stuff in with her in the morning, and Christopher had just been fired.
As I stepped out of the elevator, singing quietly to myself, the guard looked at me questioningly. I told him what Dwayne had done for me, and he laughed. I set my boxes down by the desk and offered him a quick blowjob under his desk for old times' sake. He laughed again, with a not tonight, but helped me take my boxes to the car.
"It's only polite to help a lady," he said with a chuckle.
I kissed him on the cheek and drove home, excited to start my new job. I'll have to do some shopping tomorrow after I get my new hire processing done. I'll need some actual business attire, I giggled.
Chapter 2
I woke early the next morning, feeling excited, nervous, and more than a bit frustrated after having worn my cock cage to bed. I hadn't trained myself to not get hard during the night, so I got woken up every few hours as my little prick's attempt to get hard threatened to rip out my balls at the root. Still, I felt good and rested.
I took my time getting bathed and shaved, using the depilatory cream to ensure I did not miss anything, then moisturized so my skin would be soft and smooth. I styled my hair so the curls would frame my face prettily. I spent a little extra time on my makeup, softening here, highlighting there, comparing my appearance to my male pictures. A pair of lady's "cat eye" costume glasses, and my transformation was complete.
I stepped back and looked at the final product in the mirror. The peach, long-sleeved blouse was loose, but still flattering, and my bra did not show through. I added a little extra to my breasts, since I was meeting "the boss" today, and wanted to impress. The tight thong kept my cage pulled back, but did not break the curves of my hips under the black, knee length pencil skirt. I was a little concerned about the garter belt, but after turning, twisting, even bending over a little, I was satisfied that everything looked good. A pair of low heel pumps, some conservative jewelry, and "Christina" was ready for her first day at the new job.
I drove very carefully to the office, not wanting to get pulled over and having to explain to the officer about me driving Christopher's car. I pulled up to the front of the building, staring. This was the first time I had really gone out in public as a girl, and I was scared that I could not pull it off, that everyone would see right through me, that my coworkers would recognize me. My little clitty twitched at the thought of being humiliated so completely. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down before I ended up ruining my skirt by cumming. I grabbed my purse and briefcase and stepped out of the car before I lost my nerve.
Each step I took relaxed me. No one even looked twice. Everyone saw a smartly dressed business woman. Even the morning security guard just smiled up at me, asking my name and destination.
"Christina Davies to see Wilcox and Associates, please," I purred in my female voice. I was surprised how easy it was to maintain. Almost natural, in fact. "I have an appointment to meet with Ralph Garrett."
The guard checked his sheets and nodded. He handed me a visitor badge and pointed toward the elevator bank. "Fourteenth floor. Your badge should activate the elevator for you, miss."
I smiled and thanked him, pinning the badge to the waist of my skirt as I headed toward the elevators. My smile slipped a little as I stepped into the elevator, already occupied by a few of my coworkers. They greeted me cheerily, asking what floor.
"Fourteen, please."
"Really?" one woman asked. "I had heard we were getting a new contractor to replace one of our programmers. I'm Jennifer Tolis, the office manager." She extended her always perfectly manicured hand.
"Christina Davies," I answered, giving an appropriate handshake. "I was surprised to get the call so suddenly, myself."
"Do you know a Christopher Davies, by chance?"
"Not that I recall, no. I moved here from New York a month ago, so I haven t had much chance to do anything but job hunt and try to get settled."
I inwardly sighed as she seemed to accept that. "Well, let me know when you get done with Ralph. I will get your desk assignment and we can start any other paperwork you'll need."
I thanked her and headed to the manager's office, trying to look both confident and confused, since this was supposed to be my first time here. I knocked on Ralph's door when I got to it and heard him call out to come in. I giggled at the double take he did when he looked up.
"Good morning, Mr. Garrett. I m Christina Davies," I said, extending my hand.
He stood and took it, looking me up and down, his grin getting bigger by the second. "A pleasure, Miss Davies. Please have a seat," he said as he closed the door. He turned, leaning against the door and chuckled. "When Dwayne convinced me to do this, I really expected to have to fight with HR about it." He shook his head as he crossed the room to sit back behind his desk. "Looking at you like this, I'd never have guessed."
I blushed, lowering my eyes and whispered a thank-you.
He cleared his throat and pulled out a stack of papers. "So, I assume you've read over the contracts and understand all the stipulations? Good. There are two more that I can't put on paper, for obvious reasons. First, you must maintain your persona at all times while on company time. That means Christopher stays home if you get sent off on business for any reason."
"Yes, sir, I understand," I said.
"Good. Second, you are going to service Dwayne and I anytime we want, any way we want. Not only that, but anyone who calls you 'Sissy Chrissy' gets to use you as they see fit." He was looking at me with that very male lust in his eyes.
I blushed again, a smile teasing my lips at being so openly wanted. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Come see me after you talk with Jenn about getting settled. I have reservations for lunch, then you can go home before starting your shift tonight." He got to his feet, and I followed suit. He took my hand, and instead shaking it, brought it to his lips and kissed the knuckles softly. "Welcome to the company, Chrissy," he whispered before seeing me to the door.
The morning went quickly, with Jennifer showing me around the office, getting my permanent access card, arranging for my logins and email, and getting me set up at my new desk- which, coincidentally, was my old desk. I was just arranging my 'new' workstations so that I could more easily face the opening to my cube when Ralph came around the corner.
"Ready for lunch?" he asked. "I'd like the chance to discuss the projects you'll be taking over. I'll buy."
I smiled up at him, opening my legs "innocently" as I turned to gather my purse. "Sure. I should be heading home afterwards so I can rest up for tonight."
We walked out to the parking lot, chatting about what I thought of the office so far and other idle crap. I could tell he wanted to keep up appearances, so I played along. We got to his car and he opened the passenger door for me.
"Um. I should probably drive my car and meet you. I have to come back in tonight, and the busses don't run that late."
"Nonsense," he said. "I'll be happy to drive you home, and I'll send a company car around to pick you up tonight. I need to keep our new star player happy." The grin on his face made me sure that the special attention would be something I'd be working for very soon.
We continued the idle chatter until we reached a restaurant that I would never have thought about coming to, mostly because they charged ala carte, and even the least expensive item was more expensive than my new hourly rate. The maître-de welcomed Ralph and immediately showed us to a booth facing the rest of the room. I scooted in, my skirt threatening to catch on the long white tablecloth.
As Ralph placed the order for our drinks, I looked around the room, noticing that there were quite a few people in the restaurant, but everyone was talking quietly. It felt like a library. As the waiter walked away to get our drinks- and food, since Ralph had decided what we were eating, as well- he turned to me, looking thoughtful.
"So, how long have you been playing these games at night?"
I blushed, looking sidelong a little sheepishly. "A couple years now. Dwayne was the first person to ever see me that I'm aware of. And I've always completed my projects on time, so it's not like it interferes with work or anything."
"So you haven't... um... you know... been with... ?" He seemed almost nervous. I almost laughed. Here I was, sitting with one of several people who could quite literally ruin my future, and HE was nervous.
I smiled. "I've played around a little here and there, but never quite to this extent." I looked around and leaned in conspiratorially, lowering my voice to a whisper. "This is actually the first time I've been in real public as 'Chrissy.' I usually just drive to work and back. I've been afraid someone will out me all day."
Ralph chuckled, relaxing a little at my confession. "You are doing great, hun. I really would not have been able to tell so far if I didn't already know."
I giggled, placing a hand on his knee under the table. I felt him tense a little and smiled. "Relax, Ralph. I won't hurt you, and you are free to stop me at any time. I'm assuming that this," I let my hand drift a bit closer to his crotch, "is going to be how I afford such a lavish lunch. I'm alright with that."
Ralph's cheeks turned a few shades darker, coughing and sputtering quietly as the waiter came back to the table carrying our drinks. I smiled sweetly up at the server, thanking him as I took a sip of my drink, my other hand still under the table. The waiter hid his grin behind his professionalism, but a twinkle in his eyes indicated he had a good idea of what was happening. As he walked away, I slid my hand up Ralph's thigh, resting on the bulge I could feel growing in his slacks. Slowly, carefully, I eased his zipper down, carrying on the increasingly one-sided conversation as my fingers snaked into Ralph's tightening pants. Ralph, for his part, kept both hands firmly around his drink, sipping it occasionally and making small sounds like he was actually paying attention to what was happening above the tablecloth.
I slowly gripped his cock, coaxing it out of his pants, stroking it, running my thumb over the tip to spread the moisture of his precum over all of his soft skin. It was not long before I could feel Ralph's body begin to tense. With a quick look around the restaurant, I ducked under the table, arranging the tablecloth to cover my head. I slipped the head of his cock into my lips and continued to stroke him. I almost did not make it in time, and his first spurts hit my lips as much as my mouth. I slowly milked him, using mouth and tongue and fingers. I could hear him cough to cover the moans, then cough louder as the waiter returned with our food order.
"Is the lady feeling alright?" the waiter asked.
"Ye... yes... yes... She excused herself to... um... relieve me... I mean, herself," Ralph stuttered. "She will be back in her seat shortly."
I stifled a chuckle as I licked the last of Ralph's juices from his shaft and tucked him back into his pants. I peeked up over the table edge before returning to my seat, taking a compact out of my purse and checking my makeup. My lipstick was a little smeared, and I had a bit of cum still on my lips, but I was otherwise intact.
The rest of lunch was pleasant conversation and delicious food. Ralph nursed his one drink, while insisting that I enjoy several more. After our entree's were finished, the waiter returned to take our plates.
"Might I suggest something from the dessert menu?" he asked, smiling.
"No, thank you," I responded, smiling while Ralph finished his drink. "I enjoyed my dessert before lunch." Ralph almost choked on his drink.
"Of course, miss," the waiter replied, smiling knowingly, setting the folder with the check on the table. "Please feel free to visit us again." His eyes dropped down my body quickly, his smile turning earnest for a moment before his professional mask returned. "Any time you like."
I winked at him and sipped the last of my drink. I was suddenly very happy that Ralph had offered to drive me home and send a car for me. The naughty executive had gotten me rather drunk, and I was feeling very interested in how the rest of the afternoon and evening might turn out.
We slid out of the booth, Ralph helping to steady me as I stumbled a bit getting to my feet. He escorted me out of the restaurant and to his car, being the perfect gentleman. He was quiet as he drove to my apartment, though he was smiling quite a bit. He opened my door for me, helping me to my feet and walking me to my door. Again, he raised my hand to place a soft kiss on my knuckles.
"Thank you, Miss Davies, for a most wonderful lunch. I look forward to your... work... with us." He smiled again and left.
I went into my apartment, pleasantly relaxed and surprisingly satisfied. I showered and lay down, setting my alarm to be up in time for work that night.
Chapter 3
I went into work that night wearing what I could only describe as "Librarian Meets Whore"- six inch black stilettos, gartered black stockings with the line up the back, a skirt that was long enough for propriety (if barely) but showed the tops of my stockings, a sheer white blouse, black lace bra and thong panties, and a blazer that matched the skirt. My hair was up in a professional bun, and my makeup would not be out of place in any boardroom. I stepped confidently to the car waiting at the curb for me, chatted with the driver, and was relaxed looking forward to my first work shift without having to hide this side of myself.
The driver held my door as I exited the car, and I favored him with an "accidental" peak up my skirt. He smiled. "A pleasure to serve, Miss Davies," he said. I swiped my new badge at the door, greeted the security guard, and went up to my desk.
I sat down, quickly getting lost in my work, trying to make up for the time I had been away. Before I knew it, I looked at the time and noticed it was almost the end of my shift. I was a little disappointed in not having a visit from either Dwayne or Ralph, but I chalked it up to giving me time to actually get some work done and getting settled in before taking advantage of the extra clauses in my employment contract.
I drove home and fell into the routine I had used the last few years, showering, having a quick bite to eat, then getting to bed.
The rest of the week flew by, but still no visits from the two. Friday morning, as I was packing up for the day and getting ready to leave, a woman stopped at my desk. I looked up and just stared.
The woman was in her late thirties, her long blonde hair framing her face beautifully. Her outfit was modest, professional, and still sexy as hell. I had seen her around the office before, but only on the few occasions I had been forced to be there during the day. I glanced at her badge for confirmation, and a chill went down my spine.
Michelle Turner, Executive Vice President of Operations and one of the managing partners of Wilcox and Associates.
Oh, fuck.
"Miss Davies. Come with me, please," she said, her smile the only break in the professionalism. She knew I recognized her.
"Ye... yes, ma'am." I got to my feet, smoothed my skirt, suddenly very glad I had chosen to dress more conservatively today. I followed her across the floor to the elevators, trying to control my breathing to keep from hyperventilating. She stepped out of the elevator at the top floor, walking directly down the hall and into an office. I stumbled as I read the nameplate.
David Wilcox, CEO
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck... I was so fucked.
I stopped at the threshold of the door, looking in. Miss Turner- or was it Mrs? There was a ring on her left hand, so Mrs, I decided. Mrs. Turner stepped behind the desk and bent to whisper something to the man sitting behind it, his back to the door as he talked quietly on the phone. He turn his chair, and I saw him look me over, measuring me against some scale I could not begin to fathom.
"Thank you, Steve. I will let you know," he said before hanging up the phone. He laced his fingers across his chest as he leaned back in his chair, still looking at me. I stood there, transfixed. I suddenly understood what a mouse felt like looking at a cat deciding whether to pounce. He stared for what felt like hours before nodding, seeming to come to a decision. "Please, Miss Davies, have a seat." He leaned forward, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"Yes, ss... sir... Thank you, sir," I stammered, quickly moving to the indicated chair, sitting on the forward edge, crossing my ankles and keeping my knees closed demurely. I folded my hand on my lap and waited.
Mr. Wilcox looked down at a folder open in front of him, as Mrs. Turner stepped around the desk and sat in the other chair, sitting all the way back, but still looking professional. Without looking up, he asked, "Is it Christina or Christopher?"
I choked. HE KNEW. Holy fuck, he knew. I was going to be fired, ruined. I managed to get myself under control enough to whisper, "Legally, sir, it is Christopher. Christina was the name I used for this part of my... um... life. And..." I could feel my face flushing, tears beginning to well.
He did not even look up from the file. "I thought so." He looked up, folding his hand on top of the file, looking at me. "Let me cut to the chase, Miss Davies. Two of my employees acted in a manner that is expressly against company policy. Both have been fired for cause, and will not be returning to Wilcox and Associates, or any of its affiliates. If you would like to file charges, our legal department will support you at our expense. If you decide to sue the company, we will find outside counsel for you and stipulate their fees as part of any settlement. We... I... take situations like this very seriously and do not tolerate harassment in any form."
My brain locked up for a moment. "Um... what?" was all that I could manage.
Mrs. Turner snickered quietly. Mr. Wilcox shot her a dark look before pinning me again with his attention. "Which part do I need to restate, Miss Davies?"
"I... I don't understand, sir. I'm not in trouble?"
David Wilcox, owner and CEO of one of the premier tech companies in the country, if not the world, smiled and sat back in his chair. "No, Chris, you are not in trouble. We have been aware that Maxwell has been forcing himself on women and threatening their employment for almost two years. Garrett, willing or not, has been party to it for the last six months to a year. Unfortunately, we did not have any proof until the incident with you. We installed cameras on the programming floor two months ago, and captured his taking advantage of you. The security guard also contacted Michelle after you left for the day. We have the footage encrypted and secured for evidence in case of any legal needs. Once we are sure it will not be needed, it will be thoroughly destroyed. We have also confiscated Maxwell's phone and scrubbed all of his data to ensure he will not have copies of what he recorded of that morning."
My brain was beginning to work again. "But, sir. I had sex on the floor, offered it to the security guard, gave Ralph a hand job at what equated to a company paid lunch. I had every opportunity to say, 'No,' but I didn't. How am I not in trouble for any of this?"
This time, Mrs. Turner laughed out loud. "I told you, David. She is almost as bad as Gail and I."
Mr. Wilcox closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed. "Chris, let me ask you this. If Dwayne had not threatened your job, had not threatened to expose you, would you have done that? If he had just asked you while crossing paths in the halls, would you have acted like you did?"
I looked at the floor, whispering, "Probably not, sir."
"If I told you to strip right now, bend over my desk, and let Michelle and me have our way with you, would you do it if you knew your job was not on the line?"
I could feel my face flush. I couldn't speak. I just shook my head. The image of what might happen with what he described ran circles around my head, my imagination making me shiver.
Mrs. Turner laughed again. "She just might."
Mr. Wilcox chuckled. "Okay, bad example. Still, both Maxwell and Garrett used their position to coerce sexual favors from you. They also filed fraudulent paperwork to HR. I would have more than justified to send them both to jail just for the fraud. However, I wanted to give you the opportunity to get your pound of fle... um... to get your revenge."
"Thank you, sir. However, I just want to keep my job. I enjoy working here. Whether as Christopher or Christina doesn't matter."
"I am glad to hear it. You are one of our best programmers, and I am sorry it took this incident for you to come to our attention. You should have been promoted or given raises long before now. That said, I need to work with our legal team to write up a new contract for you so that it does not have the appearance of being a payoff." He pulled a packet out of the folder and slid it across the desk. "This is the preliminary draft. There are also provisions there for full gender reassignment, if you choose, or assistance for 'dual identity.'"
I stopped half way to reaching for the packet. "What? What is... dual identity?"
Mr. Wilcox motioned to Mrs. Turner. "Michelle is one of the landmark cases. Their birth name is Michael. They have full legal credentials for both their male and female identities.
I turned and stared at Mrs. Turner. She smiled at me and winked. I started to recognized things, tricks of makeup and styling that I used myself. If it had not been pointed out, I might not have ever noticed. Mrs. Turner... Mr. Turner... was the same as me?
"I... Thank you, sir. I will think about it," I said as I picked up the papers and started reading through them. It was, indeed, a new contract. Full employment, increased salary, benefits. The package was better even than the one I had been given by Dwayne. I looked up, almost hating myself for asking the next question. "What if I refuse? What if I decide to move on, or sue?"
Mr. Wilcox smiled. "Then we terminate your employment, provide a severance and compensation package, letters of recommendation, and the aforementioned stipulation about legal counsel. No hard feelings, no foul. This contract is not a payoff for your silence or compliance. It is recognition of an excellent employee that was being held down by bad managers. I can only apologize for our negligence in identifying the issue sooner. Good talent is hard to find, and needs to be nurtured when it is found."
I looked back and forth between the two, considering.
Mrs. Turner (I just could not bring myself to think of her otherwise) leaned forward and put a hand over mine. "Take some time to think about it, Chris. I have already arranged for you to have next week off if you need it. When you have made your decision, just let us know."
I stood, extending my hand to Mr. Wilcox. "Thank you, sir. I will try to let you know on Monday." I shook his hand, then Mrs. Turner's.
"Of course," he said as I turned to the door. "Call the switchboard if you decide sooner. I have left instructions to have any messages forwarded to me immediate, whichever way you decide. Michelle?"
Mrs. Turner had stood when I did, and she led me back to my desk to collect my things. As I did, she said quietly, "We really are sorry that... that," she waved her hand at nothing, "happened to you. I understand how you might feel about it- the thrill and fear and everything. It was still wrong for Dwayne to do what he did. Not just that night. We have reviewed his files and logs and are conducting full evaluations of several women in his department. It seems you were just the latest target. He had been holding back information that would have led to numerous promotions. We will also be reaching out to some people who left because of his shenanigans." She smiled warmly. "You are not alone in this, Chris. Any of this. And we will be here to help you, whatever you decide." She touched my shoulder softly, then turned and headed back to the elevators.
Chapter 4
I spent the weekend thinking. I thought about everything that had happened, about everything that Mr. Wilcox had said, about Mrs. Turner. I went online and found articles detailing Mrs. Turner and the 'dual identity' legislation they had mentioned. When Monday morning came, I had made up my mind.
I dressed as Christina and went into the office. Mrs. Turner was waiting at the security desk, and she smiled when she saw me. "Good morning, Miss Davies. If you will follow me, please?" She led me to an elevator I had not seen before, tucked behind the security desk. The panel only had three floors listed- lobby, garage, and penthouse. I looked at her when she pushed the penthouse button and the doors closed.
"I did not know this elevator was here," I said in the quiet.
"It is only for David, Gail, and me to use. There are a few others who have access, but they are special friends and business contacts."
"I'm sorry. Gail? Is that Gail Wilcox? Wife of David Wilcox, and the third partner of the company?"
Mrs. Turner giggled. "That's her. Try not to stare too much. She is still a bit self-conscious about all the attention, even after all these years."
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. I stopped after several steps and looked around. We were not on the floor with the office I had been taken to on Friday. This looked like a private residence. We had been let off in a large living room, couches arranged in a conversation nook around a coffee table. Off to the left was a hallway with several closed doors. To the right was a dining table with eight chairs. Mr. Wilcox sat in one, dressed in his suit and tie, sipping coffee while looking over some papers. To his right stood a beautiful dark-haired woman who looked to be about the same age as Mrs. Turner. Her age and looks did not surprise me, as I had seen her picture on the company website and various promotional posters. What shocked me was that she was almost completely naked. She had a solid ring of silvery metal around her neck, and matching bands around her wrists and ankles. She looked over Mr. Wilcox's shoulder at the papers, discussing them with him and the black man sitting to their left. He was a big man, easily a head taller than Mr. Wilcox, even sitting down.
All three looked at me as we approached. All three smiled.
"Miss Davies," Mr. Wilcox greeted, standing and extending his hand. "It's a pleasure to see you again. I hope you don't mind the informal setting, but Gail wanted to attend and have a chance to meet and talk with you. Please, have a seat. Coffee?" He gestured to the table and returned to his seat. Mrs. Turner took the chair directly to his right, and after a moment, I sat next to her.
"I would like to introduce you to Stephen Danvers, our head of accounting, and my wife, Gail Wilcox, who heads up our legal department." Both nodded to me, and Mrs. Wilcox set a steaming mug in front of me, along with a caddy with sugar and creamers.
"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Davies," Mr. Danvers said. "We have been reviewing the final draft of your contract proposal. Based on the data I've seen, I still think we are getting you at a bargain if you accept." He smiled, sliding a stack of papers to me.
"Thank you, sir," I said as I started reviewing the proposal. I tried to keep my eyes- and my mind- on the contract, but I kept glancing at the naked woman standing beside the CEO, her hands clasped behind her back and smiling. Finally giving up all pretense, I looked directly at her. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Wilcox, but I have to ask. Why are you naked?"
Everyone in the room laughed, and Mrs. Turner shook her head. "I told you guys that we should have at least warned her."
"For now," Mrs. Wilcox said, her voice clear and soft, "let us just say that I prefer not to wear clothing unless I absolutely must. If it makes you uncomfortable, I will cover up."
"No, ma'am. The nudity does not bother me, though I will admit you are rather distracting. I just did not expect to be doing this in..." I trailed off, looking around. "In your home?"
"Normally, we would be doing this in my office downstairs," Mr. Wilcox said. He gave his wife a cross look. "However, as I mentioned, Gail wanted to meet you, and convinced me that this less formal location might be more comfortable."
I nodded and focused back on the contract. It was different than the one I had been given on Friday. Not only was it a higher salary, but it was an offer to take over as the group manager. I was being offered Dwayne's job.
"There seems to be a mistake. This is not the contract that was provided last week," I said, looking around the table.
Mrs. Wilcox laughed. "You're correct. After the board reviewed your performance records, they recommended that you be offered the position. They were not given any information about the incident that caused the position to be opened, and no one at this table gave any input on their decision. And, as Stephen said, everyone believed you are worth more. This, however, is the best offer we can make and not risk someone calling foul about preferential treatment. The previous manager was fired, and his replacement was chosen from the existing pool of employees based solely on performance."
Mrs. Turner leaned over and whispered loudly, "I would have tried to get you Garrett's job, but they didn't let me weigh in."
I still was in disbelief. "But I... as Christina... have only been with the company for a week, and Christopher was let go."
"That, my dear," Mrs. Wilcox smiled, "was easily handled. It was explained to the board that you had requested the name change, and your time as Christopher was bridged and validated as Christina."
"In short," Mrs. Turner continued, "you never left the company. We simply amended your previous contract. It happens rather regularly. There are several individuals on staff who switch back and forth between names and gender identities. Some eventually settle down on side of the fence or the other, others continue with dual identities. As long as they continue to do their work and do not cause issues with the other employees, the company does not care how they present themselves."
I was stunned. "So I could have been dressing however I wanted the whole time without worrying about getting caught or into trouble?" Everyone nodded.
Mr. Wilcox chuckled. "As long as you were street legal when you walked in the door, you could wear anything you wanted, even if that was nothing at all." He gave his wife a sly look. "Not many of our employees choose to go naked, but not everyone has the self confidence to do so. Most of the ones that do are in either legal or accounting, oddly enough."
Mrs. Turner nodded. "There are safety concerns in some departments, particularly the manufacturing and warehousing areas, but aside from OSHA requirements, clothing is optional across the company."
"Why didn't I know about this?" I asked.
Mrs. Wilcox scowled. "It seems that Maxwell had been handing out doctored copies of the company policy books, and used them in his antics." She looked at her husband. "I still want to hammer that little molester. I am sure Lizzy and I can make a case without having to bring any of his targets into court."
"No, my love," Mr. Wilcox said, smiling up at her. "We have already fired both of them. They were walked out with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Their pensions were voided, and their contracted severances voided. I also put a quiet word out. Those two will be luck to find job flipping burgers or working a gas station. Their done."
She lowered her eyes. "Yes, Mm..." She glanced at me before continuing. "My love," she finished.
Mr. Wilcox glanced over at me before giving Mrs. Wilcox a look I could not identify. She flushed, her eyes lowering again. He sighed and shook his head. "At any rate, we are here to find out if Miss Christine Davies is going to accept the position of Programming Group Manager. It will mean hiring a replacement programmer, and working primarily during the day. You will be salary, which means that you will not get overtime unless you work over sixty hours in a calendar week, which I expect you will probably be doing until you hire another programmer. Just because you're going to be the boss doesn't mean you get to slack off. You will be responsible for reviewing all of the code that comes out of your group, something that Maxwell shoved off to someone else in the group. You, if I am not mistaken."
I nodded, a little shocked. "Yes. He would ask me to double check code sometimes from the others, to see if I saw any problems that he missed."
Mrs. Turner nodded. "I noticed when I started reviewing the coding reports. He would change the tags, or make just enough comment edits to make it look like he did the review. Once I started digging in, I saw what he was doing."
I looked over the contract again. "So I will be doing what I have already been doing, plus leading the team?"
"That is correct," confirmed the CEO.
"Then I accept. Thank you, all, for your confidence in me. I will do my best."
Mr. Wilcox stood and shook my hand. "That is all we ask."
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