The traffic was still awful in London, even with half the population gone. I swore as I tried to change lanes to turn off the dual carriageway. The asshole who shot into the gap from behind put his hand out the window and mimed the wanker sign. Then, when he saw my face and my long blond hair, he almost crashed into the car in front. He gaped at me. Seeing a woman was so rare nowadays, it often had that effect on men.

I nipped in behind him and turned off at the next junction. These dammed ballet flat shoes were hard to drive in. I would have preferred trainers, but that was not permitted for us comfort gurls.

I glanced at the shoes in the passenger footwell. 5 inch patent leather court shoes. I hated walking in anything that high. I had learned, but I really had to "mince" when I walked. The client had specified those shoes, so I had no choice.

I longed for the days when I was Simon. But that was before I made the mistake that changed my life

He had specified the rest of what I was wearing, right down to the underwear. Silk and lace French knickers, a black basque, seamed stockings, a short black skirt, and a fluffy white blouse. I also had a blond wig and pearl earrings on.

I had read what he wanted. He wanted a sexy secretary. The sort that he could probably have had at his beck and call before the world went to hell.

No one knew who started it, but the Americans accused the Chinese and the Russians. Both of those countries accused each other. The Gynax virus had effectively wiped out 98% of women.

It was thought that it came from a mutated virus that was meant to mimic the beneficial effects of female hormones on the immune system. During the COVID-19 outbreak, more women recovered than men, and fewer were hospitalized.

The Gynax virus was meant to be one of the newly developed "friendly" viruses. It was meant to enhance a male's immune system so it reacted to viruses as well as a woman's did..

The virus mutated. It overstimulated the immune response in males and females. Over the course of two years, it killed 20% of the male
population and 98% of the female population. It was due to a massive autoimmune response created by the virus.

The remaining females were housed in huge secure medical facilities. Kept in a sterile environment to protect them from the virus until a cure was found.

Later, any woman capable of giving birth was to be impregnated so they would bear only female children. The plan was to rebuild the population of the world with the next generation of women. Effectively, women would have to become baby-making machines. The scientists worked out that a woman can have somewhere around 15 to 30 babies in her lifetime. Humanity was on the edge of extinction.

Scientists were also experimenting with implanting human embryos into pigs and cows. Another group was trying to develop artificial wombs. They tried implanting the first of these into prisoners on death row. So far without success.

Another problem was the remaining men. Millions of men were desperate for female company. In America, where firearms were readily available, a huge army of armed men had killed the soldiers guarding one of the women's "sanctuaries", and freed the women. Most of the women died within a week.

In the UK, where I live, men had rioted and been put down ruthlessly. At first, rubber bullets were used. When a soldier was killed with a shotgun, they switched to live ammunition. The centers were safe after that. Men's lives were cheap. The government made that clear.

The world didn't stop when the women died. The health service suffered as a huge number of health workers were female. Teaching and admin staff were overwhelmingly run by women. It took a year before these services were running again. The main infrastructure that kept the country running, water, power, farming, and even policing, was run by men.

Most economies stumbled, but two years later, essential services were running normally. The problem was that the men were craving female company. Homosexuality was actively encouraged by the government, but many men could not bring themselves to sleep with another man. Trans women were seen as the holy grail.

With little choice, most men went along with. "If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, well, it's a duck, or close enough."

Many trans women married rich men. They were treated like queens. Even the ones that never really liked the idea of going with men did. It was one of the few ways they could find protection in a world of sex-starved men.

The government latched on to this as a way to partly pacify the population. Any man who agreed to gender reassignment would be set for life. They would be given surgery for free. This included breast augmentation and facial feminization. They would be given half a million pounds provided they agreed to marry a man within 6 months.

This initiative yielded a small increase in the trans-female population, but not nearly enough. The second initiative was launched.

There were a lot more crossdressers than truly trans women. The government offered to pay large amounts of money to convincing crossdressers who would work for the state-run "Comfort gurl" program. They would be housed in a secure apartment and protected. They would only be "rented out" to carefully screened clients. The clients had to have a spotless record. This was another way of controlling the male population.

There were several tiers of comfort gurls. Tier 1 was the most convincing, the most beautiful. They would usually be rented out for £5k plus per assingment. Tier 5 was for the ugliest. They could be expected to fetch around £100 per assignment.

The gurls all had to agree to be in the program for 5 years. They were offered free breast augmentation, vocal cord surgery, and facial feminization surgery. Very few went on to full gender reassignment.

I had been having a bad day. I was looking at my phone when I bumped into a comfort gurl leaving an office block. She laughed and said.

"I bet that is the biggest thrill you've had since you're wife died."

I think it was the mention of my wife that triggered me. I punched her in the face. She screamed, and I was set upon by several men.

I was in court the next day and sentenced to death. As I had attacked a state-owned asset. I was charged with treason. Sentences these days were harsh. It was the only way to keep order. Still, it did shock me to get such a severe sentence.

The day before my execution, the offer arrived. I could opt to go into the comfort gurl program for 5 years. I would only earn 5% of my fee. Volunteers get 50%.
After 5 years, I would be set free with my earnings. It was explained to me that I had better agree to the "enhancements" to stand any chance of getting a higher tier rating.

So here I am, walking into the lobby of an upmarket block of luxury flats in my 5-inch heels. I can feel the tug of my stockings on the suspenders. The silk knickers are rubbing my penis, which has been stitched between my legs to give me a more convincing appearance when naked. My surgically created C-cup breasts make it hard to see where my feet tread, so I walk slowly into the lift.

As he opened the door, the first thing I noticed was his height. He was taller than me, even with the 5-inch heels. In heels, I was nearly 6 feet tall. This guy was at least 6 feet 6 inches. I hoped he wasn't as big downstairs.

The roleplay started.

"Get to your desk Suzi, you are late again."

I sat at the work station in his living room and started typing up the memos he had piled on the desk.

He returned in a few minutes and looked at the memo that I had printed.

"Right! That's it Suzi. I warned you. Bend over the desk."

I obeyed. I felt him lift my skirt and my slip. I felt the cold air on the bare flesh above my stockings. He tugged my knickers upwards. I felt the lace tickle my buttocks, then I felt the sting of his hand as he spanked me.

I felt anger and shame. I was a grown man being treated as a naughty girl. I knew he wouldn't hurt me. If he did, he would never hire one of us again. After a dozen or more slaps, he stopped and ordered me to my knees. He unzipped his fly and pulled out his 7-inch cock. At least he wasn't as big as I feared.

I knew what was expected. After 6 months in the job, I was, to my eternal shame, getting good at blow jobs. I suppose only a guy really knows what to do with a dick. Hopefully, I could bring him off quickly.

I looked up into his eyes as I slowly enveloped his cock. This was such a submissive position to be in. Yet, it was also powerful. I had his most treasured possession in my mouth. He threw his head back and groaned as my tongue went to work on his glans.

I felt him stiffen, this was it.. Then he pulled out.

"You don't get away that easy, you sexy little bitch."

I still wasn't used to being referred to as a woman. He pulled me to my feet and roughly pushed me back over the desk. My skirt was yanked up and my knickers down. He shoved his dick straight in. I screamed. The high-pitched noise I made, and I spoke in, were the result of vocal surgery.

I had lubed myself , but it still hurt. I think every time I was fucked, it stole another piece of my manhood. I felt him slide inside and graze my prostate. God help me, but it felt good. Thank god the hormones I was forced to take kept me from becoming erect. My trapped cock was sewn between my legs.

I started to sigh and groan and made feminine grunting sounds as his balls slapped my buttocks.

"Yes, you're enjoying this, aren't you bitch?"

I felt tears in my eyes. He was right. I hated it, but I was. I was enjoying sex as a woman. I had another four and a half years of this. Would there be a man left after that?

He screamed as he shot his load into me.

"Take that bitch! I hope I knocked you up."

I think guilt overtook him. He walked to the front door and said.

"Get out now, you dirty slut."

I pulled my knickers up and stumbled to the door. It slammed before I got to the lift. As the lift descended, I felt his cum dripping down my bare inner thighs onto my stocking tops. I really did feel like a slut.

I got back to my car and headed back. I had to meet my case worker today. He had the power to change my tier rating. I knew what he would demand to keep me as a tier 2. Twice in one day. But I was trapped. It was better than death, but what was I becoming?

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I am not sure if I should carry in with this story. I could write several more. Each one a new story with a different client. Does it have legs?

Please let me know.