Transformer Corporation               by: Patricia Pendragon

 

Chapter 1 - The new recruit

The day had been a dead loss. I was in a foul mood as I slouched toward my car and fumbled for my keys with my arms laden with the detritus of the day. The weather matched my mood, prematurely dark, windy and threatening to rain at any moment as I snatched open the back door and hurled everything onto the seat. Slamming the door I snatched open the driver’s door and slid in pulling the door shut behind me. For several seconds I simply sat there letting the tension drain out of my arms and my back as I tried to recapture some semblance of calm before trying to drive.

I am, or rather was, a salesman. To be precise, a travelling representative for a line of ladies foundation garments. It was not my first choice of profession, for one thing I am rather shy and not particularly good at selling, but a man has to eat and that means having an income in this man’s world. But, you can only take so much innuendo and wisecracking before it starts to get to you. This had been one of those days. No orders in my order book and one too many wisecracks about my taste in ladies lingerie, whether or not I wore it and or whether I was up to doing anything ‘manly’ with anyone who did wear it. I desperately wanted out of it altogether – any way, to anything, anywhere and anyhow!

There was a sharp tap on my window and I looked up to see a policeman standing just clear of the door. I wound down the window and said, "Yes, Officer? Is there a problem?"

"There may be, sir," he replied sternly, "please step out of the car." This was said in a voice that didn’t leave any doubt about his readiness to take action if I didn’t, so angry, embarrassed and confused I did as he had ordered.

"What is this about?" I demanded.

"Please face the car and place your hands on the roof," he snapped, adding, "spread your feet wide please!"

"What…" I started to argue, then realised I could only make the situation far worse so I obeyed and suffered the indignity of having him carry out a quick but very efficient search.

This was followed by a demand to see my driver’s license and then an inspection of the trunk and my sample case. There followed a check on the license plate and the make of the car with his Control while I fumed quietly, aware of how easily I could make this situation far worse. Eventually he closed his notebook and walked back to me, a small smile on his lips. "Sorry to have inconvenienced you, sir," he offered, "a car with a similar license plate to yours was used in a robbery earlier this evening. You will be glad to know that it is a different make to yours," he smiled disarmingly, "had I known that earlier, I would not have troubled you. Enjoy your evening." He held the door open for me to get in and I slid gratefully behind the wheel.

"Yeah," I grinned sourly, "Thanks anyway Officer, but the girlfriend recently dumped me, I’ve had a lousy day and tomorrow will be even worse because I haven’t had a single order today." I laughed and added, "Still, I can always blame you!"

"Sorry about that, sir," he grinned in response, "not much I can do about any of it. Feel free to blame me if you like." He handed me a card, adding, "If you need too, refer any enquiries to me at this number." The card gave his name, ID number and direct line for the station.

I thanked him and he straightened up to move away, adding, "No problem. Hope you find a solution to your own situation soon. Good night." With that he walked back to his patrol bike and reported in, then donned his helmet and started the bike, eased in the clutch and moved off with a wave in my direction.

By the time I walked in the door of my apartment, I had almost forgotten my anger at the policeman’s treatment of me. In fact I realised that he was just doing a job as I was, and I found myself wondering what it would be like to do something like police patrol work. The ansaphone was bleeping and there was mail on the mat, so I scooped it up, dumped my bags and coat and went to hear the messages sorting the mail as I went. Most were bills, but one was addressed in rather formal terms and in an unusual script. I tore this open as I reached the ansaphone and extracted the folded letter, punching the ‘play’ button on the phone at the same time. The first two messages were from my boss, a rather domineering woman who bullied all the staff, but was especially tough on the three male sales representatives. I listened with half an ear to her sneering remarks about my whereabouts and her demand that I be in the office for a ‘sales conference’ at 0830 sharp! The third message jerked me out of my sneer and had me bolt upright as I stared at the letter in my hand and listened to the cultured voice on the tape.

Punching the ‘hold’ button, I quickly read the letter. The letterhead proclaimed that it was from a firm of consultant recruitment specialists, the text stated that I had been selected as a potential candidate for a well paid position with a research and development company, who felt they might be able to make use of my particular qualities and skills. That brought a snort from me; after all I had very little beyond my College certificates and diplomas to commend me. Sure, I had placed optimistically worded CV’s with a number of agencies – none of which had come up with anything! After six months of my present boss’s constant contempt, I was beginning to doubt I had any ability at all!

The last words of the letter jerked me back to the message on the machine – "we will call you at home to arrange a screening and interview" it said. The message on the machine, which I promptly replayed, invited me to phone back as soon as I came in to arrange the screening.

Ignoring the rest of the messages, I grabbed the phone and dialed the number on the letterhead. The phone rang only once on the other end and a pleasant alto voice answered.

Identifying myself, I asked to speak to the person who had signed the letter, one Mr John Wellington-Welles. To my surprise, as it was now past eight in the evening, I was put straight through.

"Ah! Mr Gray," he exclaimed in a rather refined voice, "so good of you to call back promptly! I wonder whether you could come to see us this evening; I rather think you may be interested in a little proposal we have for you."

"What sort of proposal?" I asked cautiously, "I’m not in a position to buy anything or to join some get rich quick scheme!"

"Oh good heavens no!" laughed the voice on the line, "On the contrary, I have reason to believe that we can make a significant difference to your life – and we’ll even pay you for it! Allow me to explain, I think we may have a position for you, one that you will be far better suited too than your present employment and, I think, possibly more remunerative. That will be up to you, of course," he added, "and it doesn’t involve selling anything!"

"Well," I hesitated, "I assume it’s legal?"

"Of course!" he assured me, "you have some talent as an artist and designer. We would like to develop that and some other aspects of your abilities. We are a large company, Mr Gray, and I believe that you can be of some use to our organisation. We have a number of different divisions, one dealing with research into tissue modification and another in designing and producing special costumes and clothing. Shall we say half past nine?"

Still dubious, but very intrigued, I agreed. After all, what harm can it do to simply go and see what is on offer? He gave me directions to the address on the letterhead and assured me that there would be no obligation if I decided to turn it all down.

It took less time to get there than I had thought it would. All the traffic signals were green for me all the way through with very little traffic which got less and less as I approached the address and there was an acre of parking right at the door. I pulled in and walked to the doors, which swung open as I approached. At the Security Desk sat a stunningly attractive woman in a tight fitting uniform, who looked up and greeted me with a worm smile as I approached.

"Good evening Mr Gray," she said as I stopped at the desk, "The Boss is expecting you. Take the elevator to the fifth floor and you will be met there." She handed me a badge and got my signature on the Visitor Register.

Feeling a little stupid, I asked, "How did you know who I was?"

"I was told you were coming, of course," she smiled, adding, "HR are pretty on the ball here. They gave me a mug shot to identify you from as well!"

I was still puzzling that one through when she asked me to step through a gate rather like an airport weapons screening unit, and directed me to the elevator. As I approached the doors they opened on an empty car and I stepped in. Touched the button for the fifth floor and waited as the doors slid closed and the car ascended smoothly. The doors opened silently and, checking the indicator panel, I stepped out to be met by another stunning woman in micro skirt of black leather, black Lycra tights, Lycra roll-neck and thigh high boots with three-inch heels. I could see she wasn’t wearing any of my products under the top either!

"Mr Gray," she smiled at me, "This way please. I am Diana, personal assistant to The Boss. He’s waiting for you in here." She held open a heavy door and indicated I should go through, closing the door behind me. I found myself alone in a large room, a desk occupying one corner, the walls lined by books and a comfortable suite of leather couch and armchairs grouped around a coffee table. A tall figure dressed in black leather trousers, black silk shirt and tie of equally dark shade but with strange figured patterns, detached itself from the chair at the desk and came forward to meet me. The saturnine face was strikingly handsome and exhibited a warm smile as he approached, his hand extending toward me.

"Mr Gray, welcome to the Transformer Corporation. Do take a seat, some coffee? You take it white with a single sugar if I recall," he greeted me, smiling at my surprise, "we do our research very thoroughly before we make anyone an offer. You would be surprised at how many people fail to make even our ‘Possible Employees’ List."

Handing me a cup of coffee, he continued, "We have a very unusual operation here so we cannot afford to employ anyone without being sure that they are absolutely right for us." He smiled, "I can see you’re wondering why you’re here. Let me put it this way; are you happy in your present line of work?"

"I wouldn’t describe it that way," I said, "but it beats the heck out of starving."

"Quite!" he smiled, "According to my information you and your manager do not get along quite as well as you could."

"That," he said emphatically, "is an understatement. She makes life hell for me and the other blokes. In fact she gives women a bad name!"

Quite so! If I then offered you the opportunity to leave that employer and move to a position that will pay you double the current salary, with built in bonuses and increments, the opportunity to rise in the organisation and to bring your artistic ability and tastes to the fore, would you be willing to accept some minor inconveniences from time to time?" His face was unreadable as he said this, but there was a trace of humour in his eyes and around his mouth.

The interview continued along these lines with very little being revealed about what exactly the job would offer other than that it would involve some design and artwork, some actual modeling and a role in the research programmes. Mr Wellington-Welles was charming and very well informed, he even knew about something very few of even my closest friends knew – my interest in, and collection of masks. This had been a long-term interest, started as a youngster by the comic strip "The Mask". I had made myself a copy of the comic strip artist’s concept and had later made further models of it. Then I had begun collecting latex, plastic and carved masks from all over. They now occupied a large part of my spare bedroom, my supposed 'study', mostly packed into boxes and wrapped in tissue to protect and preserve them. Some, like the Maori and African masks I had managed to obtain, were on display, but these were wood and not meant to be worn.

Finally, he rose and offered his hand again, welcoming me to the company! "Just one last hurdle for you, young man," he smiled, "Diana will take you down to Dr Morgan for your medical. I am sure you will pass with flying colours. I shall see you tomorrow." He smiled as he ushered me out.

I could not actually remember accepting, but as I smiled at Diana as she met me with a wad of papers and lead me to the elevator, I found that I was actually relieved that I would be working here and not for the dragon lady. Then I remembered! I had to be at my office at 8.30am! I mentioned this to Diana, saying, "Mr Wellington-Welles said he’d see me tomorrow – but, I have to give notice at my present employer and work out the month!"

"Don’t worry, it’s already been done," she replied with a smile, "your company samples, documents and everything else has already been returned to them. As far as they are concerned, you finished yesterday! When the Boss wants something done, it happens quickly!"

My head was in a whirl as we arrived at the door labelled Dr Morgan. Diana knocked briefly and opened it waving me in. "Here is our latest recruit Penny," she announced, "this is Padraigh."

The Doctor, a shapely woman of about 5’9", with blonde hair and green eyes greeted me warmly. She was dressed in a stunning outfit of white latex skirt, blue latex roll neck top and calf length boots also of rubber. "Welcome to Transformer Corporation, I know you will find us an unusual and, hopefully, exciting group." She took all the paperwork from Diana and said with a smile, "I have a routine examination to do on you, please take off all your clothes. Don’t worry," she added with a grin, "you may believe I have seen it all, including everyone here!" To Diana she added, "I will see the appropriate forms are signed my dear. Padraigh can bring them up again when he comes back up to you."

With Diana gone, I stripped and somewhat self-consciously went through all the usual routines of height, weight, pulse and blood pressure. Then Penny, as she insisted I call her, asked me to sign ‘my contract’ and several other forms which I was told I could read and related to the research side of things. I glanced at these and made the mistake of not reading them. Instead I scanned, didn’t see anything earth shattering and so said OK, and signed. Gathering the forms Penny, now told me to step into a cylindrical unit rather like a shower cubicle. "Place your feet on the marked plats," she instructed and raise your hands and grip the handles above your head." She checked to make sure I was in position and then said, "Now, whatever you do don’t move. This will take a few minutes; it is essentially a full scan of your body. I am going to seal the door behind you, just look straight ahead at the marks and don’t move."

"This is some medical," I quipped, "they weren’t this thorough when they rejected me for the Navy!"

"Ah, but we are not going to get you killed, we need you intact and fully functional!" she laughed. "Now keep absolutely still."

The process lasted no more than a few minutes. There was a faint hum, I felt a warming beam pass down the full length of my body quite slowly, sinking from my raised hands down to my feet, like a band around my skin. Then the door was opened and I was told to come out. "Good, you can get dressed now," she beamed, "You will be pleased to know that you are a perfect candidate physically and health wise. I know you will enjoy your work here."

A few minutes later I was handing the file of papers to Diana and then heading out of the building to my car. The Security Guard smiled as she took my pass from me and handed me an ID Card, saying, you’ll need this in the morning. Just swipe it in the card reader by the lift and it will take you to The Boss’s floor for your induction.

The ride home seemed longer than the trip out, but I eventually arrived, let myself in and, still puzzling over all that had happened in the last few hours, did the toilet, my teeth, stripped and fell into bed. Had I perhaps not been so pre-occupied, I might have noticed that I was loosing body hair at a very rapid pace. I didn’t.

The telephone woke me. Groggily I reached out for it and gasped, "Hello?" into it.

"Good morning Patricia," came the voice of Mr John Wellington-Welles, "I trust you have slept well? I have sent your new partner, Barbara, around to help you get made up and ready for your first day. She is at your front door now, if you will be so good as to go and let her in!"

"Umm," I began, then something in my brain started to kick in, "Yes, Boss I will go and let her in immediately."

"Good," he replied, "I’ll hold."

Swinging my legs out of bed, I registered with some surprise that I now had wonderfully formed breasts, a small high waist and wide hips with a prominent vulva between my legs. My brain was registering that something was different, but I could not get a handle on what! Wrapping a large towel around my breasts I checked it covered my fanny and made for the front door. I was already opening it when I realised that I had no idea who to expect. Instead I found myself looking at a pretty woman about my own build draped in a long leather cloak, beneath which I could see high-heeled boots.

"Hi, Patricia?" she enquired, and when I nodded, smiled and moved forward passing me as I shut the door. "I’m Barbara, your new partner at work. The Boss sent me to see that everything was OK for your first day. Shall I get the coffee while you get your shower?"

It wasn’t until I was stood in the shower that the vague feeling translated into realisation that something radical had happened to me. I suddenly realised that I was no longer a man! Moderate sized breasts crowned by large areola and thick teats thrust outward from my chest. My neck had become longer, my hips wider and fuller, my buttocks firm and well formed, my legs slim and my feet dainty. In my crotch the absence of hair and my usual appendage drew a gasp as I realised that I was seeing, for the first time from this angle, my mons veneris and the edge of my vulval slit. Strangely, I felt no alarm, just mildly curious!

I gently and very tentatively explored my slit with a finger, found my clitoris nestled in the labia and followed them to the warm moist opening of my vagina. As I did so my nipples stiffened and I felt my slit begin to moisten itself, a warm fragrance mingling with the steam from the shower. Hastily I stopped and dried myself carefully, noting that my nipples remained erect as I wrapped a towel around myself and left the bathroom.

Barbara was waiting with coffee and a make-up kit. She had shed the cape and was wearing a pair of skintight leather trousers with side lacing that left her smooth thighs exposed to the hips. Her midriff was bare, her bosom supported by a low cut leather bra top and her feet encased in calf length boots with four inch heels.

"Sit down here so I can do your hair and we can get your face made up," she grinned, "I must say you’re a lot more than I expected!"

"Thanks," I mumbled, "what the heck happened to me? I think I must be dreaming!"

"No," she laughed, "it’s no dream! When you signed on last night, you agreed to switch sex as part of the contract. So here you are – like what you see?"

"I never.. ," I began, then remembered the papers I had signed, "Hey! They can’t do this! I’m a man for God’s sake!"

"Wrong on both counts dearie!" she giggled, "They can and they have! Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it and I think you’ll learn that it’s one hell of an improvement! I certainly did!"

"You mean.. ," I gasped.

"Yep, just like you. Now get the towel off and let’s do the hair."

In ten minutes my hair had been transformed from a wet mess to a nicely coifed bob. Like the rest of me it too had changed overnight, being now longer and softer it had also lightened to a nice golden blonde. All the time she worked on me I could not help noticing the warmth of her body, the slightly musky aroma of warm leather and the delicate scent of her body mingled with something else. My nipples stayed tightly erect, a fact that did not go unnoticed.

"Mmm," Barbara grinned as she finished my hair, "I see you like the attention!" Cupping my breasts in her hands she used her thumbs to gently tease my extended teats, adding as I started to protest, "relax, darling and let me show you the joy of being a woman!"

While a part of me still screamed no! A hunger was already starting in my pubic area, and I found myself reaching down to pleasure my slit. Seeing this Barbara gently stopped me and instead knelt in front of me, kissing and caressing my breasts until I was moaning in anticipation. Then, spreading my legs gently and making me lean well back she applied her mouth to my now gushing juices and explored my labia and clitoris before sending her snake-like tongue into the opening of my vagina.

The rising tide of an orgasm sent me into an ecstasy of anticipation, but suddenly she stopped and moved me fully onto the bed. In answer to my protest, she smiled, peeled her trousers to expose her own well-developed vulva and reached into the vanity bag to extract a strap on dildo! "Be patient my love," she crooned, "this will only take a minute to fix and then you can really go ballistic!"

I watched in awe as she slipped the inner dildo into her own pussy and adjusted the clit stimulator so it fitted just right in her labia. Then with a grin she placed herself between my legs and lowered herself until the tip of the phallus was just parting my tingling lips, "Ready for this, my darling," she breathed.

"Please," I gasped, "Fuck me! Let me feel it! Please!" I let out a brief scream as she slid it home. I had a brief sensation of being stretched as it slid in, then my whole being seemed to focus on the thick textured shaft embedded in my now throbbing crotch! Involuntarily my legs wrapped around hers and her nipples met mine as she lowered herself fully onto me, her mouth seeking mine as we locked in a deep kiss. Then, ever so gently at first, she began to hump her hips, sliding the dildo in and out of my pussy. Fireworks exploded in my crotch as I experienced the first orgasm, my scream of ecstasy lost in her mouth as my breasts joined the jamboree and waves of pleasure rolled through my torso.

My responses inflamed hers and soon she too was riding an orgasmic wave of her own until, breathless we stopped in sheer exhaustion.

Very slowly she withdrew the dildo from me and stood up. "Hot damn," she grinned, "we’re going to make one hell of a team! Hold still while I get you cleaned up," she added producing a make up towel, "we’ll have to get moving now, or you’ll be late on your first day!"

When she had finished, she grinned evilly and asked, "Still want to be a man then?"

Half an hour later we were on our way to the Corporation, me feeling slightly strange dressed in a leather corset, the cups of which only barely covered my nipples but exposed a small area of the areola, leather hotpants over rubber tights and thigh high leather boots with three inch heels. A leather jacket made the outfit more ‘street legal’, but the steel choker Barbara had decided I must wear was engraved with a chain design and fastened with a key operated lock! My new position promised to be very interesting indeed!

Our arrival at the Corporate building was quite different from my arrival there the previous evening. We drove in, in Barbara’s car, and parked in an allocated space. The same Security Guard greeted me commenting that I looked pretty good this morning! Swiping my ID in the slot at the lift Barbara and I were whisked to the Executive Floor and soon found ourselves standing in the luxurious office occupied by The Boss.

Thanking Barbara for her looking after me on my first morning, he suggested that we sit and offered coffee, tea or fruit juice. I marveled at how fresh and well rested he appeared, given that he could not have left before I did the previous evening, and would not then have had much rest. The conversation was kept light and revolved around how I felt about my new body. It surprised me, but evidently not the Boss or Barbara, that I was quite comfortable with the change. In fact I rather liked being a woman – it seemed to offer so much more. Perhaps this was in part due to my lack of success in the ‘mating game’ as a male. Whatever the reasons, I discovered that I liked who I now was a great deal more than I had liked who I had been, and I said so.

 

© 2001
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