Crystal's StorySite storysite.org

 

Christine Miles

by

Karen Anne Summerfield

© November 2001

 

My wife had allowed a 'break-in' period of one month for me to become accustomed to wearing the new chastity belt. Starting with just having it locked on for a few hours in the evening, I gradually worked up to where I felt I could wear it full time. Being belted was one of the conditions I had agreed to before she promised to go along with my taking female hormones and eventually having sexual reassignment surgery to become a woman physically.

The other requirements to keep us together and married were that I wear nothing but 'proper' female under garments all of the time and that I eventually 'come out' at work, as well as, to our friends and our families. No timetable was established for me to do that, but I knew that as my breasts began to show, at some point I was going to have to. The chastity belt and underwear were going to be nearly continuous, night and day, until than.

Michelle’s definition of proper underwear was a well-constructed bra, stockings and a corset, minimum. For work, these were to be black. I was also told that she was going to start training my figure, meaning that as my body adapted, my corsets were going to become tighter to create what she thought was a proper figure for me. At first, I would wear my male appearing attire, my suits, at least the slacks were no longer going to fit once I'd put on a corset. Michelle told me from the start that my outerwear was going to become gradually more feminine as time progressed.

"Put your corset on this morning, after you bath. We'll go shopping for suitable clothing for you to wear to the office Monday, Chris." I was handed the white one. "Wear what you'd like so long as it's either a skirt or a dress." Unless something was scheduled that would conflict, I wore feminine clothes both in the evenings and on the weekends. Going out shopping with my wife while dressed, as Chris was nothing unusual for me. I am more than 'passable' once I put on my makeup and a wig.

I had never before even tried on a corset, just getting it on under the hip band of my chastity belt required her help.

"You're going to have to learn to do this yourself. I'm not playing your maid every morning. That's your job," she told me. After hooking the busk, Michelle instructed me in tightening the laces up my back while she frequently taped my waist.

"Twenty-six inches, that's a small enough waist to start your training, but you need to lace about four inches tighter on top." Michelle easily stuck her hand under the top to demonstrate why she's stated that. With an even gap from top to bottom, I tied the laces. Being corseted provided a nice snug and secure feeling. It wasn't like the fantasies I had read.

I chose a beige blouse with long sleeves and, for the first time, was easily able to zip up one of her skirts, a black wool one, which ended at mid-calf - little higher than where it fell on her legs.

I admired my new figure in the mirror after zipping on a pair of knee length black boots with four-inch, chunky heels. I had thought it was only because of the corset resisted my bending in the middle to put on my boots that it felt worst than standing, but that wasn't the only reason. Just sitting on the stool before the vanity forced me to adopt a rigid, upright posted. Any other position than that was just too uncomfortable.

"I think that is one of my favorites. Wear it please?" As she sometimes did, Michelle selected which of my wigs she wanted to see me wearing that day. She set the head on the vanity. It was my long red one with full bangs and soft waves reaching to the middle of my back. My natural hair is light brunette and fairly short.

"To go with the new you, Chris. I'd like it if you stop getting your hair cut and let it grow until it can be styled to go with the new you." Now that the decision to progress towards a complete change had been made, I was looking forward to being completely Chris. The excitement of this blinded me from considering all the consequences and what lay in my future. Even when I readily agreed to getting my ears pierced, I wasn't thinking ahead. Instead I was only dreaming of wearing the styles of earrings that I'd yearned to do for so long. All of this was what I had wanted and was thrilled with my wife pushing me towards realizing them.

By Monday morning, I was successful in properly lacing my corset without needing Michelle's help. She was there drinking coffee with me in the bedroom while I dressed in what she had picked out for me to wear. I regretted not being able to fill the cups of my bra with the silicone forms I usually used after hooking it. Over the black corset, I donned a lace trimmed camisole then sat to put on a pair of opaque black stockings which I attached to the ten garter straps dangling from my corset.

Most all of the clothing we'd purchased at the mall had been for me to wear to the office, but I had bought a couple of skirts to fit my new figure too. But for the fitted bodice and its buttons being on the left, the white long sleeved blouse was otherwise the same as the man's dress shirt I'd worn to work before. My necktie however was pale pink.

Again I wished that the jacket was fitted, but I was practical too. The suit jacket hung straight to hide my figure. Michelle folded a white silk handkerchief and placed it into the breast pocket, the only pocket I had in the charcoal gray suit - all of the rest had been cut out and sewn closed. That was something I had requested Michelle do for me to avoid old habits I needed to break my male habits. Guys stuff all sorts on things in their pockets from their hands to keys, coins, wallets, pens and whatever else they felt like carrying about. I had acquired a black leather rectangular purse similar in size to a medium sized book that closed with a zipper on three sides.

It had taken us more time to select my new footwear than any of the other items had bought that day, put together. I insisted that, although they had to be women's shoes they had to also had to be mostly androgynous and Michelle readily agreed with me. She however insisted that their heels be loud when I walked on hard surfaces, like a pair of metal tipped spikes or more so, despite not being high heels.

In all, we bought six pairs and no heels higher than an inch and a half. The material of the footwear meeting Michelle's specifications appeared to have their heels were made of what seemed to be a hard plastic. That morning I left the house wearing two toned, back with gray oxfords.

I was pleased with the image, which we had created, masculine enough, yet everything I was wearing had been selected from the Misses and Junior Misses racks. Pleased that is until I stopped at my regular connivance store for the morning paper and a donut. When she handed me the my change the clerk wished me a, 'Have a good day, Miss.'

I had always wanted to pass in public and had never been read. I wanted to be a girl, but ... I was going to my male job! I'm a well-paid computer draftsman at a civil engineering firm. Should I start to say draftsgirl? Our company employs thirty-four people - eleven of them are female.

During the remaining ten-minute drive, I began to worry about the reactions I was going to get when I stepped out of the car. What were my co-workers going to think? Worse? What were they going to say? What questions was I going to be expected to answer to?

Never had I previously looked about the parking lot or checked in the mirrors for who else might be about prior to exiting my car. I did that first morning. I was very concerned. I was lucky. None of my co-workers were in sight and I encountered none of them in the lobby either, though about a dozen people were waiting for the elevator when I reached them. Most of the guys gave me admiring looks, polite ones like I had received at nice stores - the upscale ones, and the restaurants Michelle and I frequented when I was dressed nicely.

A few women appraised me in a different way. Perhaps it was my keyed up state, but it seemed that they were appraising the competition. Or, was that wishful thinking of things that were to come?

A girl, my age, whom I'd seen frequently before, was the first to enter the car. "Floors?" She had taken possession of the controls.

No one said 'Nine'. I thought which voice to use and daringly used my femme one to respond. It is low and sultry, not soprano. My voice, like my appearance was not something that caused any to evince that my gender was being questioned when I was fully en femme.

Heat pounding and suddenly extremely nervous, my heart rate had seemed to have to haven taken a quantum leap when I entered the office door. I was halfway through the lobby when a very familiar voice called.

"May I help you, Miss?" S***! It was Moria's - the Vice president's secretary and also the Director of Human Resources. I turned towards her.

"Good morning, Moria," I said in my normal voice."

"Chris? I didn't recognize you." Her eyes took in every detail, I'm sure. Moria was the office fashion plate.

"Nice suit, why the sudden change?" she asked with her eyes focused on the two silver beads on my right lobe.

"Michelle thought that I should start dressing a lot nicer. She helped pick out some new things she said would look better on me." I was sounding stupid and practically stuttering to get out the thin explanation.

"Tell her I think she has very nice taste." Moria walked to the coffee maker. As she passed close, she said, "Like the earrings." I wanted to hide.

At least my job normally didn't have that much interaction with the others, but it did require some. I'd been busy in my cubicle when one of the engineers leaned over my shoulder to peer at the display on the monitor.

"Good. Looks like you worked around that access problem that developed when you laid out the addition like the client wanted, Chris."

"By moving the wall thirteen feet, this way, the trucks can still come though to the loading docks. It just wouldn't work as before, Steve."

"Why not come over to my office, I've got some sketches that they sent by email over the weekend. I want to hear your ideas on how we can work them in." he invited. I followed him across the hall after retrieving a pad.

I sat next to him facing his monitor. From habit, I reached to my breast pocket where I'd always carried a pen and mechanical pencil. Only when I touched there did I remember I was wearing a blouse with a pocket that was sewn shut. I felt the lace bra cup too.

"I forgot my pencil," I said and started to stand up to get one only to feel his hand lightly press my thigh. As my luck would have it, Steve's finger brushed across the hardware of a couple of my garters.

"Use mine." He offered his pencil. Sharing some, I could not face him and stared blankly at the screen. I was afraid, very afraid of the consequences of his discovery so early into this new chapter of my life. The pause before he spoke seemed like several minutes, but probably was actually just several seconds.

As if he'd discovered nothing, Steve Marshall began to explain the client's ideas. By nine o'clock, I needed to use the bathroom and excused myself to do so. Because I drew attention to myself by the noise my heels made on the tiled floor, those gathered by the coffee machine tuned to look as I went out to the hallway.

I didn't head for the urinals as I always used to, but instead to a stall. I'd never have use for a urinal again.

A new problem presented itself to me when I'd finished. While getting accustomed to my chastity belt, I'd only used the bathroom at home for my needs. There, I could wash and use the hair dryer to thoroughly dry there. My belt has a secondary shield like some designed for female. Michelle had chosen one so that my feminine appearance was enhanced. Until then I'd been please, but I couldn't dry behind it with just the tissues provided in the stall. There was nothing I could do about that then, I stood, pulled up my nylon panties then fixed my slacks and belt.

When I returned to the lobby, my co-workers in the coffee area were talking, but the sudden silence when I walked past was unnerving. I was very aware of the attention I had drawn and my cheeks burned. Steve stared intently when I entered his office to resume or discussions, but made no comment.

 

"Congratulations, Christine. Lets celebrate by getting another pair of piercings for your ears. It would be a mark that you finally achieved this milestone. Though my pierced ears had been commented on when I'd first appeared at the office wearing my silver studs, those sorts of remarks had stopped completely by the end of the second week. Nearly all others at work just seemed to accept my new look. I readily went along with her suggestion.

After long months, my breasts finally started to bud. Until then, my wife had done nothing to change the degree of femininity I displayed at the office. That ceased once my mounds were noticeable. After wearing a corset for twenty-three hours a day for so long, I was then lacing to twenty-one inches and my slacks had changed sizes to fit that figure.

The following Monday, Michelle came in the bedroom as I was finishing dressing.

"Sit on the vanity, I don't think a little makeup will be noticeable."

"Honey, I can't wear makeup to work," I protested.

"Of course you can. You've already been wearing clear nail polish for months. It will just be a light lipstick, hint of blush and touch of mascara.

"Sit still." Despite being conscious of wearing it, the makeup was barely noticeable to me when she'd completed her application. With a promise that I'd freshen my lips during the day I left the house with the makeup she'd used plus a compact in my purse.

Michelle had been right. No one commented or looked at me any differently than he or she had recently. No one, that is until Mrs. Phillips called me into her office when I returned from my lunch break.

"Close the door, Chris. Lock it, please?" I wondered what this was about. She placed her purse on the corner of her desk then stood and came around it. Mrs Ann Phillips is Vice President of Engineering and my boss' boss.

"I'd like you to tell me when you plan to stop the charade," she said with a soft voice.

"Charade, Mrs Phillips?"

"Oh come, Christine, I flinched hearing her address me by my preferred name. "It has been quite apparent to me, exactly what you have been doing for over a year. I'd like you to stop pretending and get on with it, girl." I was frozen and didn't move when she undid the loose knot in red silk necktie.

"You're a damn good designer Christine and I don't care one bit if you are pre-op transsexual or what, but I do care about you acting like you are not what you really are.

"Unbutton your collar. Oh, take your jacket first." Meekly I just did as I was told.

"Oh, my. So that's what you've been hiding underneath." Mrs Phillips was staring with a big smile at my waist. It was clearly apparent now that the suit jacket wasn't hiding my fitted blouse and the belt snugged my slacks to my corset. She walked around me, running her finger up, over the laces and bra strap. Facing me she picked up her purse.

"Was it your intent to continue working here during your transition, Christine" Her use of the past tense 'was' bothered me.

"It is my intent, Mrs Phillips."

"And when were you going to tell us?" she asked

"When I could no longer hide things, especially my breasts," I honestly answered the question.

"And suppose that today is that day? I'm not going to permit you to hide yourself any longer."

"Is this shade OK with you? It matches fairly closely the color of your tie today." She held a tube of bright red lipstick that she was poised to apply to my lips. I nodded. The lipstick was followed by foundation, blush, eye shadow and mascara.

"Sit down and talk to me while I paint your nails." I did as I was told too. My necktie was redone around my bare neck like a scarf and she undid a few more buttons to discover the two herringbone necklaces what the blouse had concealed. They were brought out to lie on top of my blouse.

"Much better," Mrs Phillips pronounced. I watched pick up her phone.

"Martin, Ann, I'm ready. Do you have a few minutes?" Without saying more, she set down the handset.

"Mr Brahms and I discussed you before lunch. He's prepared to meet you. You best prepare yourself for meeting everyone else.

"Do you still use the same last name?" I couldn't speak, only nod.

"Very few, if anyone else, saw me as I followed her to the adjacent office of the owner of the firm. I felt terrible - nauseous.

"Martin, let me introduce, Christine Miles.

"Christine, Martin Brahms, owner and President of Brahms and Associates." He stood, extending his had across his desk to shake mine. I shook with a light, feminine grip.

"Have a seat please, Christine?" They sat when I did around a small conference table in one corner. I read my name on the blue personnel before him.

"Sue me if you wish. You are very attractive, Christine." he compliment, and challenged me to bring EEOC charges ageist him for doing so.

"I don't think that will be necessary, sir," I forced a small smile as I said it.

"Let me get to the point of this conference. Are you aware of the law as regards to a person with a gender disorder in this state, Christine?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, I am." I confidently stated.

"Enlighten us to the degree of your understanding, please?" Mrs Phillips asked.

"In short, employers are prohibited from discriminating against employees who have a gender disorder."

"Yes, and I'm confident you could quote the law verbatim, if I asked you to, Christine. I'm also certain that you are equally aware of what is required from you to successfully prove an employer discriminated against you because of your orientation. By the way, I hate the term, 'disorder'. It makes it sound as if you are sick and I know you are not."

"Sir, if I may interrupt, I do have copies of three certifications to add to the file before you, if that is needed," I offered.

"They are needed, not so much for your continued employment here, but as your protection from potential problems with your coworkers. As soon as you can, bring them in." Mr Brahms requested.

"If I may, I have copies in my desk." My statement caused both of them to smile.

"Be a good girl, go get them and ask Mike Carter and Moria to join us here, please?" I was smiling at how well this seemed to be going for me.

"Mike, Mr Brahms would like to see you in his office." I had changed my voice to Christine's when Mrs Phillips had added to my makeup. Having gone to my cubical to get the letters, I'd taken a moment to remove the elastic and brush out my below the shoulder length hair.

My boss' jaw dropped when he saw me and his expression turned to a frown. I could not make out what he muttered, but was sure it was not a compliment.

As if well aware, she probably was, of the situation, Moria just gave me a nice smile and walked with me towards the office. Before we reached it, I'm sure the entire office was well aware of how I looked.

"I'm not going to have a freaking faggot working on my team, Martin. If you insist, I'll fire him for cause." It was my boss' heated words that I heard as we approached. Things were not going to be as pleasant as they'd started out to be.

"That will be all, Mr Carter." Moria tugged at my sleeve and held me from entering.

"Wait till they finish," she whispered the caution.

"Go to your office. Do not say a word to anyone else and wait until we finish. I want to talk with you more before you go home. That will be all." Mr Brahms ordered him out. If looks could kill, Mike's would have as he passed. Fury was written all over his face and it was directed straight at me.

"We overheard, Martin," Moria stated as she pushed me in then locked the door.

"I apologize for my team leader. Please take your seat again?" I set the letters from my therapist, a psychiatrist and my physician before him. He read each and placed them in my file.

"Is it your intention to come to work dressed as a girl?" Mr Brahms pointedly asked me. Moria answered before I could.

"She has been for more than a year. I saw it the first day her appearance changed and surprised no one else seems to have picked up on it. If you look, all the buttons on her blouse and the jackets she's been wearing are on the left." Mr Brahms smiled as he observed this fact.

"You know what I meant, Christine. Answer me please?"

"Sir, it is my intention to wear skirts, dresses and heels along with jewelry and makeup," I honestly replied. He smiled.

"I'm pleased to see you are a fighter. Go with Ann and Moria. I've a few things to resolve." I was dismissed and stood. I felt I needed to make a statement.

"Mike Carter is a good team leader. Until now, he never evinced discriminatory behavior that I witnessed. Consider my statement as 'on' the record, sir." I even dipped a curtsey then left with Mrs Phillips to her office.

"Sit, Christine," she motioned as she went around to sit at her desk. "I admire how well you handled all of that." She paused to read the personnel file that she'd taken with her. It took some bit of time.

"I apologize. I'm supposed to review appraisals. I never saw your last one three months ago. I need to investigate why it did not cross my desk and I'll discuss with Moria why no follow-up came to my attention. You didn't sign it either." Mrs Phillips pushed the form towards me with a pen. "Sign it."

"No," I stated. "I've not had a performance appraisal in well over a year. I've been reluctant to bring this to a head, but I am not going to read and sign something which never occurred, Mrs Phillips." We stared at each other for a moment then she put it back in my file after making a note on the bottom.

"I don't think it would be wise for you to continue to report to Mr Carter any longer. I'm sure you agree, Christine?"

"Does that mean you are going to fire me?" I had always thought that when I came out, there was a strong possibility that might happen.

"No, not at all. But, I do think it might be better if you reported to someone more receptive to working with other women. Did you ever question why we have female engineers and no females in your position, even though there are ten of you?

"Well, doesn't matter. I've been considering a new position. How would you like to be my assistant, Christine?"

"I would like to know the job duties, please, Mrs Phillips. I can't give you a responsible answer until I do." My saying that caused her to giggle and that made me question what I'd said.

" 'A responsible answer', I like that.

"You'd still be doing some designing, but working on my own projects. They are somewhat different from what you are accustomed to with the other engineers. Mine are more conceptual and not detailed.

"I meet with the clients on larger projects, flesh out what they would like, present it to them and if it flies, assign it to one or more of my staff engineers to detail. There will be a lot of meetings and some fieldwork involved. My assistant would also handle secretarial duties for me.

"You get the empty cubie outside my office. How do you think you might fit in that slot, Christine?" I did think it through, especially being face to face with clients in a variety of situations, which was a bit frightening. I set that concern aside; it was just something I'd need to deal with and overcome. Also, the workstation, which went with the job, would offer me a lot less privacy, exposing me much more to the office staff.

"I think I can do a good job for the company in that position. Thank you for the opportunity to do so, Mrs Phillips."

"Good.

"Now that we'll be working more closely together, my name is Ann." She smiled then continued.

"I don't think that you'll have a problem if I tell you that for meetings you'll be expected to present an attractive appearance, Christine. Meetings can come up unexpectedly, but most are scheduled. Do you understand what I just said?" It was my turn to giggle.

"Yes, Ann. I'm to be as attractive as I can at all times."

"Yes, you do understand." She looked at her appointment book.

"Tomorrow you and I are to be at Donaldson Industries at eleven o'clock to have a discussion regarding a major expansion. Expect to work through lunch and the rest of the afternoon in discussions. Frequent unplanned overtime goes with the job.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you the salary."

I was more than a bit overwhelmed at all that had occurred, especially the ten thousand dollar raise, as I cleared out my things from my former station.

"They fire you, Chris." I turned to see Steve Marshall looking concerned. "You know I've known from the beginning?

"Yes, and thank you very much for never saying anything about it," I smiled.

"Well, I wouldn't want anyone to tell me they had read me." I started to laugh. Not once had I ever even thought of Steve as a T girl too. I changed the subject.

"No, I wasn't fired. I was promoted. I'm Mrs Phillips assistant."

"Well congratulations!

"Here let me help with some of this."

Michelle was as delighted with the news as I was when I told her. I was rewarded with having my chastity belt off for a few hours of great sex, but it was relocked before I fell asleep.

The next morning, wearing my best black suit, with a lacy white blouse, black stockings and my patent, ankle strap pumps, I entered the office almost twenty minutes early. I wanted to avoid a reception committee that I feared might be gathered, waiting for me. I heard noises indicating I wasn't alone, but saw no one else while walking to my desk.

With a blank appointment book from the supply room, I took Ann's from her desk and busied myself copying what I thought I should into mine. I've worn nail extensions before, but they still were going to require getting used to. Despite getting to sleep late, I'd gotten up extra early to style my hair and apply them. I looked up when I noticed someone in front of my desk. It was Mike Carter.

"I want to apologize to you, Chris." He didn't sound very sincere.

"Thank you. Apology accepted," I said flatly. We stared at each other a few seconds then he walked away. I guessed he had been ordered to say that to me. I shrugged and resumed what I'd been doing.

"Good morning, Christine."

"Good morning, Ann." I stood. "Would you like coffee?"

"Yes thank you. Black."

I'd been right about my co-workers; they were waiting in the lobby to check out the 'new girl'. I knew I looked good and I believed I surprised most of them by my appearance. Many had questions, some offered compliments and congratulations and a few kept their distance, just staring.

With her coffee, I took Ann's appointment book as well as a pen and pad when I went into her office.

"I think I've made note of everything I should in this," I said while replacing the book. I then stood poised to take notes. Ann giggled, nearly spilling her coffee.

"We'll leave at ten thirty. You should find the Donaldson file in the cabinet, familiarize yourself with it then the rest of the files." I was handed a shopping bag.

"That's for you. See that it contains things we'll need." I opened the bag and took out thin black leather, flat briefcase. It was large enough to hold a folded C sized drawing.

"Thank you very much, Ann." On one side, the case had an engraved, silver tag with my name on it. "It's very nice."

"You're welcome." She waved me out while picking up her phone.

Donaldson’s file did not contain very much. Apparently we had never worked with them before. The project was for a two hundred thousand square foot manufacturing facility to produce frozen dinners. I had worked on a smaller, but similar project to make desserts.

Finding that client's file, I reviewed what our firm had done, as I never seen all of it before, only the pieces which had been assigned to me. As one of the designers, I had access to all of the computer drawings. I pulled them up and selected appropriate ones to be plotted. I thought they might be useful at our meeting.

I wanted to discuss this and ask Ann what else she thought might helpful, but she had no time for me, having entered Mr Brahms office before I could.

"Come powder your nose, Christine. I want to leave," Ann told me when she passed my desk. I'd been apprehensive about using the ladies room for the first time, but her being with me calmed my fears.

"That's a very nice suit, Christine. Do you have many suits in your closet?" she asked walking to her car.

"Thank you. No, just one other."

"They become you and are very appropriate for meeting with clients." She continued with her compliments from my hair to my nails and accessories. I felt good as we were shown to the conference room occupied by five men and one female who was perhaps my age. During introductions with their President, Chief Financial Officer, Chief Engineer and Production Manager, she was introduced the President's Personal Assistant. I smiled when Ann introduced me as hers.

After small talk, Carl Stinson outlined what they desired and turned things over to his engineer, Rudy Wasser who began to detail things. Ann did the talking for our firm, outlining our resources and capabilities to do the job. I stayed quiet, paid close attention and took copious notes. Carole had been doing the same.

Lunch was brought in and serious conversation turned to lighter topics then it was back to work.

"Ann, has Brahms and Associates done work before on anything like what we desire?" Ed Stanski, their CFO, asked.

"Yes. We did the design and engineering for McAlbert's new frozen dessert plant." While she was telling them, I reached for my new case. "I wish I'd thought to bring some layouts to show you." I placed the three drawings before Ann. She stopped talking and turned her head to me. She stared and gave me a little smile.

"Christine only started her new job just this morning.

"These are layouts of McAlbert's finished plant which she just handed me," Ann stated. "It looks like my new assistant, first day on the job, is trying to make her boss look bad," she joked.

"No. It seems she instead is making you look very good by showing us that you seem to have made a excellent decision by hiring her," Mr Stinson said with a big smile. Ann took a moment to look at what I'd placed before her then pushed them in front of me.

"I should clarify my statement. I promoted Christine yesterday. She's been with us a couple of years.

"Christine, why don't you explain what we have here?" Ulp! I stood and unfolded the first drawing.

"Gentleman, this is the plot plan which was prepared for the site review to obtain a building permit. It shows the seventy-five thousand square foot facility set on a ten-acre site. Access is along this route for the office staff." I traced it with my pen. "Plant workers use this route to the rear lot and there is a third route for shipping and receiving. All but the office staff and visitors have security control entry and exit.

"Brahms and Associates is not a general contractor, but was awarded an engineering construction management contract for the overall job," I stated then unfolded the next drawing which was the interior layout without the equipment. I explained the different areas as well as traffic and ingredient flows.

"This last drawing is an exterior rendering."

"Do you have their equipment layout, Christine?" Rudy requested.

"No, not with me. Their equipment layout is proprietary and there is a non-disclosure agreement in force prohibiting our distribution of it to others, sir," I explained. I didn't know if there was one or not, but after considering bringing one, I didn't think it was appropriate to show them.

"I'm very pleased to learn this way that your firm regards such agreements seriously, Ann," Mr Stinson said. "Donaldson’s does also."

As the discussions had been taking place, I'd roughly sketched a conceptual layout of their plant along with taking notes. I showed it to them. Ann had been to busy doing her job to have noticed what I had been doing and leaned forward to see along with our potential clients.

"Make the young lady an offer she can't refuse, Carl. With her on board I don't think we'll need to go outside," Rudy joked.

"Where did you get your degree, Christine?" Ed asked. "My son wants to be an engineer and is trying to select a good university.

"I don't have one. I could never afford college and previously was just a CAD designer," Mr Stanski," I said.

*****

"You did an excellent job today. I must tell you that I was very impressed, Christine."

"Thank you." I said.

"We had their support, but we still need to put together a formal proposal to get a signed contract. I want that sketch of yours drawn up and ready for a nine o'clock meeting with my staff."

"But," I had started to protest. Instead I said, "Certainly," and nothing further. Overtime went with the new job. I'd been told that.

"Hi, Hun'. I'm back at the office."

"Hi Chrissie. I've a special celebration dinner underway. What time will you be home?"

"I'm not sure," I told Michelle. I've got to prepare a drawing for an important ant meeting in the morning. Eleven if I'm lucky. Thanks for thinking of me though." Michelle hung up; well slammed the phone down was more like it. In an angry mood with me, she demonstrated it often by using the silent treatment.

Despite my guilty feelings, I got to work. If I called back she'd not answer.

I was well into the layout when my phone rang, startling me.

"Brahms and Associates. This is Christine," I answered.

"Christine Miles?" A man asked. I told him it was. "This is Pete, Security. There's a woman here to see you." I heard him ask her name.

"It's your sister, Michelle. She wants to come up."

"That's fine. Thank you Pete." After I hung up. I went to the lobby to unlock the door and wait.

Michelle looked gorgeous in a black cocktail pouf. She carried two of those takeout, Styrofoam food containers in her hand.

"Only your car and Pete's are in the parking lot," she said sheepishly, but didn't apologize.

"Show me your office, Chrissie." I just led her to it. I knew how to react when Michelle was upset. Despite the containers and promise of food by the wonderful aromas, I stayed quiet. There, she set the food on the desk and sat before my computer.

Michelle is a computer programmer and does know her way around them. She checked lots of things regarding the file of the plan displayed on my screen, the one that I'd been working on. When she finished, she stood with a guilty look.

"Does my suspicious nature not to trust you, upset you Chrissie?" she has a tough time admitting she is wrong and could not meet my eyes. She knew I was innocent of whatever she'd imagined, but could not say it directly.

"Yes. What can I do to change that? I tell the truth and you never seem to believe me." She saw me shrug and changed the subject.

"I brought you supper. Help set up, so you aren't here all night." After we dined on garlic and butter sautéed scallops and a nice salad she'd prepared, Michelle cleaned up then sat to watch me work.

"Does it bother you, me being here watching and asking so many questions?" I'd been at the drawing three more hours and was nearly finished. During that time she'd asked about my day and I'd told her everything as well as answering her questions regarding the project.

"No. It's nice to have your company. Thanks." I stood. "I need to plot it and make prints. Come with me." I said.

"Damn, it's twenty to eleven!" Michelle protested. Her anger started to show.

"No more than another hour. Promise!" With a kiss to her forehead and a hug, I led her to the print room.

"While that's going, I need to set up the conference room and check everything is ready for tomorrow. That shouldn't take long, Michelle."

"I'm going home. Meet you in bed," she grinned. We kissed.

Best laid plans and all. Things went poorly. I managed a few hours of sleep on one the lobby couches and a paper towel bath in the ladies room. I had a travel kit in the trunk of my car with care items to brush my teeth, apply deodorant and closely shave. Wishing fresh clothes did not produce them. After fixing my hair and completely redoing my face, I was busy preparing a proposal when Ann came in at seven o'clock.

"Good morning, Ann," I greeted.

"Good morning." Her eyes looked me over. "We ready?"

"I'll have the draft proposal before nine, Ann. The conference room is ready.

"Would you like coffee?" I stood.

"What time did you go home, Christine?" she asked.

"There was a lot to do, Ann. I slept about three hours on a couch in the lobby." My statement resulted in a deep frown.

"Have you eaten?"

"My spouse brought me supper," I stated.

"Breakfast"

"Was that a question, or an offer, Ann? Yes please?" She laughed and grabbed my wrist.

"Come on, my treat?" We went to a dinner about a block away.

"Christine, I want you to understand that I'm not pleased that you worked all night at the office," my boss told me while we ate.

"That contradicts the order you gave me before you left yesterday, Ann.'

"What order?" Ann didn't seem to remember.

"Quote, I want that sketch of yours drawn up and ready for a nine o'clock meeting, unquote. That was what you told me. The drawing took about six hours and the plotter didn't want to perform. I finally resolved it about two." She wasn't pleased. "I saw little point in driving a half hour home then back in a couple of hours, so I spent the night at the office. What should I have done?" I asked.

"Just what you did.

"How'd the drawing turn out?" Ann changed to subject.

"Well. I'd estimate that it will take about four months to finalize all of it," I told her. "Depending on the general contractor, the building could take a year to complete."

"I guessed about the same yesterday.

"Finished?"

On Ann's desk was my layout along with a detailed, nine-page report of the previous day's meeting compiled from my notes. She was shaking her head when I brought her coffee.

"Something I did wrong?" I asked. Ann had been reading what I'd prepared.

"Where the hell have you been? I should have moved you into this position a long time ago, Christine. This is excellent." She closed the paper and smiled up at me.

"I know your plate is pretty full with the changes going on in your life, Christine. All that's happened this week, must be pretty stressful?" I just shrugged in reply. There was little I saw I could do that would change things for me.

"How do you stay so disciplined?"

"May I sit, please?" I asked. She nodded. Before doing so I closed the door.

"They made a big mistake on the assembly line before I was born. I was given the wrong body. All my life, I've had the goal of changing that mistake and placed every effort towards accomplishing it. It has not been easy, but with that determination and a lot of encouragement from my loving spouse, I'm moving closer to achieving it." I was calm and she listened intently.

"With all I've spent, so far, the bill is going to total over sixty thousand dollars. I'm twenty-seven years old and want to still be young enough to enjoy things when I get their error corrected. Hard work and dedication are the only way things can be.

"Even if I had the money today, I must wait another year before I can even schedule the final procedure, Ann."

"Why? You could get a loan." I had to laugh.

"Right. 'Christine, why do you want to borrow thirty thousand dollars and what will use for collateral?'

"Mr Bank Loan Officer, I need it for a sex change and I don't have any collateral." I giggled.

"OK, I get the point," she smiled. "Still, why the year wait?"

"I need to live completely as a girl, twenty-four seven for a minimum of a year before my therapist will certify me as ready. Its call my 'Real Life Test' - proves I can survive after the operation. I haven't had a chance to tell her I've begun yet. I feel that even though I've been wearing girl clothes for the past year, that it doesn't count. I've got to 'come out', here and to my friends and family. I have to declare to everyone who knows me that I'm transitioning.

"Thank you for pushing that bit along the other day. You left me no opportunity to chicken out." A glance at my watch told me it was time for the meeting and I informed her.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Christine. If there are any problems here with the others, I do want to know about them."

As expected, Mike, being the supervisor of the designers, was one of the attendees. He eyed me carefully, taking in every detail of my appearance, I'm sure. All of the engineers were present.

"Good morning," Ann began. "Yesterday, I and my personal Assistant visited with the principals of Donaldson Industries to discuss a new plant they are planning to build.

"Before you are a conceptual site layout and a detailed report which condenses our meeting. My assistant, Christine Miles, will walk you though this project, summarize where we are and answer your questions." Ann sat. I was motioned to the head of the conference table.

Me? I wasn't ready for anything like that! I stood and walked where I'd been told.

"Good morning," I tried to smile. Certainly I'd everyone's attention.

"If you'll direct your attention to the drawing, I'll explain it. Interrupt me when questions arise, please?

"Donaldson wishes to construct a facility of approximately two hundred thousand square feet to prepare, process, package, warehouse and ship dinner items. Most will be frozen," I told the group.

By the time I finished, nearly three hours later, I'd gained the support and confidence from everyone in he room, even my former boss, Mike Carter. He stood after all of the questions had been addressed.

"As most of you know, Christine used to report to me. I don't think I was the only one here in the office that was surprised, no, I was outraged seeing her in makeup and dressed as she was a couple of days ago.

"I'm a bigot. I admit it. I'm ashamed of myself for things that I thought and said about her. I wish to apologize to all of you and especially to you, Christine." He looked directly into my eyes.

"You did one helluva damn fine job on this." Mike immediately turned and left the conference room. Someone started to applaud. They all stood to applaud me. It was very embarrassing.

*****

My breasts continued to grow and my waist continued to shrink. By January I over filled a C cup bra and was closing my corsets at just under eighteen inches. Michelle had bet me a new wardrobe for Christmas and taken on the task of altering my other clothes to fit the figure I displayed. I was really feeling good about myself.

The only thing I did not feel good about was the chastity belt. Other than for bi-weekly inspection and cleaning under Michelle's close supervision, it was not unlocked and hadn't been for nine months. She had told me that until I had my surgery, it was not coming off and would be removed only after I was sedated.

She had already acquired a female belt, which sat on a display stand on the mantle in our living room. The only good thing about it was her solemn promise that we'd have regular sex together once I'd fully healed.

Her reasoning was straightforward. If I really wanted to be a woman, I did not want sex as a man. If I really wasn't a male homosexual then I did not want sex with a man. I'd declared to her that I considered myself a female inside and since I desired sex with her, I was a lesbian. That was fine with Michelle. Since we intended staying married then she intended that I was not going to be shared with anyone else.

My hormones included a testosterone blocker and it effectively eliminated any male desires and I couldn't have an erection now how much I might desire one. My belt didn't bother me in that regard long before that time. What did bother me was being forced to cope with and live with it locked on all of the time.

I needed to take a lot of extra care with my hygiene. I had to be careful in selecting my skirts and dresses otherwise it would show and it restricted the way I moved, sat or laid down. Being constantly tightly corseted restricted my ability to do those things in its own way, which were far more intense. Perfect posture was all I could do and maintain any degree of comfort. I could only sleep on my back; any other position was highly uncomfortable wearing the combination of the two.

While these were irritants, overall, I am quite happy with things now.

 

The End

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Karen Anne Summerfield. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.