Turnabout Gurls An Employment Position To Love
Thank goodness it was almost quitting time. Another boring shift flipping burgers, something I never thought I would be doing after completing college. As a good student throughout my earlier school years, I graduated from University in 7 semesters with a degree in marketing.
Like many recent graduates, real life reared its ugly head, and I spent most of my leftover school funds on interviews and resumes. At last count, I had sent out over 200 resumes, getting just 5 interview offers.
One interview seemed promising, but the others were a waste of time and gas to go to. The standard line was delivered at the end of those interviews. We will keep your resume on file and let you know if any vacancies open up.
The one that might have had some potential ended rather abruptly when the company declared bankruptcy five days after I was interviewed.
Oh well, life must go on. The following week, I managed a part-time job at a fast-food place, just something to keep a roof over my head. I could return home with my tail between my legs, as the saying goes, but I was young and had too much pride to admit defeat so soon after graduating. So I found a crappy apartment, managed a second-hand bed, and moved in.
Three months later, that was all I was doing, the rent and a few groceries, all that my wages would support. I was now riding a bus to work, my car parked under the apartment complex's carport. No money for gas, then you add in the exorbitant insurance fees for young males, and the bus will have to do for quite a while.
Mom visited often, never rubbing my nose in my failure, but adding a few things to the refrigerator and seeing that my laundry was washed, something I was so grateful for. On the few times we actually saw each other face to face, I was hugged tenderly and told I was welcome to come home anytime. I almost gave in several times; it was so tempting. Eating a sandwich for the main meal and staring out the window for something to do in the evening is a pretty pathetic life.
One of the females where I worked told me about a company that was hiring locally for a new branch they were adding in a nearby town. They were holding open interviews at the local junior college for the next three days. She had applied just yesterday and had been invited to a second interview later in the week at their new branch. It was slow at the burger place, so I got out early, changed clothes, and went to the junior college.
The line wasn't too bad; I made it to the interviewers after only a 30-minute wait. There were five people asking questions, all females, and from the type of questions I was asked, quite intelligent. While I was being quizzed, my resume had been passed among them, each one giving it a thorough inspection.
I was asked questions about my background, college major, family life, current job, and living arrangements. I blushed when I had to tell them I worked at a fast-food place and that I traveled to and from my job by bus because I could not afford to drive on what I was making.
They conferred among themselves, then I was handed a piece of paper with an appointment time on it at their company office, about three hours away in a neighboring town. I sighed, knowing there was no way I could get there —a real chance for a job —and one that I would not be able to take advantage of it. Then the one lady at the end of the table, who seemed to ask the most detailed questions in my interview, handed me another note that said their company limo would pick me up the morning of the appointment and return me home after the interview.
I had no doubt that all of them heard my sigh; it was rather loud and exuberant. I actually have a chance at a decent job? I so wanted to embrace that idea, but knew better than to build up hope only to be disappointed in the end.
The rest of the week went along as usual. I found out that Cheri, who had told me about the job, would be my companion for the trip since the limo was scheduled to pick us both up. I dressed as nicely as I could, made sure my hair was in a low ponytail, and tucked down the back of my collar.
I considered getting a haircut, but nothing was said about the length during the initial interview. I really didn't have the funds to afford one and still be able to eat until I get paid again, the following Monday at the fast food place.
Cheri and I had a pleasant conversation on the trip over, discussing our college years and our wishes for the future. She was bubbly and quite an extrovert. I decided that was one of my shortfalls, so I promised myself I would be more open and outgoing in this second interview.
Once at their company headquarters, the driver led us into a room with two separate desks, had us sit, and then placed a stack of papers in front of each of us. She then introduced herself as Vicky Thomas, their personnel manager. I swallowed hard. She had heard all of our discussion on the trip over; a more detailed interview would not be as important or necessary.
Vicky told us that the tests in front of us were specific to the position we would be considered for. There was no time limit on the tests, and we would break for lunch at one. Since neither of us had any more questions, she left, and we started the tests.
I was expecting a lot of yes-or-no questions, but was slightly shocked when there wasn't a single one. In my case, the questions focused on a product, its description, and a brief summary of the age group it was aimed at. I was to write my ideas for marketing it in detail, including slogans and the wording to be used in the ads.
I had fifteen such examples, and by the third one, I was sweating bullets. I managed to make it to question number ten when it was decided to break for lunch. Cheri gave Vicky a hug, telling her she loved the questions she was asked —each one so thought-provoking. I surprised myself by asking Vicky if the actual job would be easier than the test to get it. She giggled, then took Cheri's hand and led us to a nearby restaurant, where we enjoyed a delicious lunch.
The talk was light, Vicky giving us a few details about the company. It was not publicly traded and was owned by several members of upper-level management. Each employee had an interest in the company from the first day they worked, sharing in the profits at the end of the year.
We had finished our meals, so Vicky suggested we get back so we could complete our testing. I finally finished my response to the last question shortly after five P.M. Cheri was still answering questions, so Vicky took my responses and started reading them. Every once in a while, she would look over at me and raise her eyebrow. I answered a question in a way that she had not anticipated.
A little before six, Cheri finished, and Vicky took a few minutes to look over her test results, too. Since it was late, she suggested we stay overnight at the company's expense. We would be evaluated by her and her assistant in the morning.
First, we had dinner at another restaurant the company often used. The food was good, but my mind was fried —too much thinking and worrying about my responses and whether they were appropriate today. Vicky checked us in at a hotel they often use, then handed us an overnight bag with some necessities and something to wear to bed tonight. We each received hugs, and she was gone.
I made my way to my room, quite lovely, way above what I thought we might get on the spur of the moment. I slipped out of my clothes and took a shower. I thought for sure I would use all of their hot water, but somehow they still had some when I finished my shower. I felt much better — relaxed and almost back to normal, whatever that is.
I opened the overnight bag, took out a toothbrush and a hairbrush, and made my way back to the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and hair, I returned to the bag to see what was available to wear to bed. The first thing I pulled out was a super sexy nightie, almost transparent and loaded with lace.
I let out a half-laugh with my face sporting a huge smile. I bet they got our bags mixed up, with me getting the one meant for Cheri.
I was tired and didn't want to disturb Cheri, so I lay it back down on top of the bag and got into bed naked. As I pulled back the covers, I let out another sigh. Satin sheets were the choice for bed linens at this hotel; I knew how they felt, something my mother often used for my bed at home. I never knew why she used them for my bed. I eventually got used to it, and it never did come up in conversation for either of us, for some reason.
I did not trust myself naked on the satin sheets, so after making sure there were no other options, I donned the nightie and slipped under the covers. I did find a pair of panties with the nightie. Since Junior was acting up, I decided maybe something to rein him in a little might help. It was at least an hour later before my mind finally quit obsessing over the nightie and satin sheets, and I fell asleep.
The bed was comfortable, and once asleep, I took full advantage, not waking up till almost eight the next morning. I immediately panicked, figuring I should have already been up and dressed way before this. I put the nightie and panties back in the bag and dressed in my male clothes.
My male underwear was a little ripe, and I had nothing else to wear, so I dug out the panties again. I made sure they did not show after getting my pants and shirt back on. I straightened the room, making sure nothing was left out. My male underwear ended up in the garbage because I was not sure what to do with the overnight bag.
I showed up in the lobby, the desk clerk took the overnight bag and directed me to the restaurant that served a complimentary breakfast for those who stayed at the hotel. As I entered, I saw Cheri and Vicky waiting for me. I went to their table, and a hefty breakfast was soon placed in front of us. A few minutes later, I was still red in the face from arriving so late. The breakfast was good and I ate most of it. Since they had already finished theirs, they chit-chatted while waiting for me to finish mine.
Cheri thanked Vicky for the overnight bag, telling her that the nightie furnished was so delicious. I immediately turned bright red, looking to see if anyone was looking in my direction, and found Vicky’s eyes glued to mine. I managed to get out that the bag was helpful. Still, it was apparent to anyone listening that I was not telling all and was incredibly embarrassed.
Vicky just smiled, nodded at me, and they moved on to other subjects. After I finished, Vicky took us back to the offices, and Cheri was led away by her assistant.
That left Vicky and me alone. She offered me a job with them in marketing. I would be working alone, on specific products, with someone watching over me to make sure that the ideas I came up with were compatible with the company and the client.
After a few months, I would also handle the clients personally as to their needs and what we charged them. It was surreal, and frankly quite scary. A new employee working on their own with very little guidance or direct supervision. I tried to find out why this was done, but Vicky just evaded my inquiries.
The money was more than I expected, but having to move here seemed more than I could afford at the time. I didn’t have too many possessions, a few clothes and a couple of items of furniture were all that I owned outright, the few remaining items, mainly kitchen stuff, came with the apartment.
Then there was gas for my car, insurance so that I could drive it here. My luck is that if I drove it over here without getting insurance, I would have an accident and end up in jail or being sued. Deposits on utilities, if I could find an apartment I could afford, would add to the possible problems of relocating.
Vicky noted my reluctance since I had not said a word after she had told me about the job. She smiled, then asked me if everything else could be handled, would I take the job. My stuttered yes and head nodding quickly settled that question. She had an idea, one that they had indulged in with another employee, but was not sure I would be interested in the same thing for me.
She told me they mainly employed females; ninety-eight percent of their workforce was female, including management. Since a lot of them were single and needed some place to live, an older apartment complex was bought several years ago and refurbished. The units were all one bedroom, bath, and a small kitchen. I could get you in there with a reduced rate on the rent, no deposits needed, and walking distance from our company headquarters.
There is one catch: it is a female-only complex, so you will have to dress as a female for this to happen. Before you say no, you would easily pass, and since you do not have any close friends, there would be few to make any comment on what you are doing. The company does not care if you present as female for your job; in fact, if it were up to the company, we would have preferred a female version of you.
Since you apparently took advantage of the nightie last night, I presume you might be open to this line of thinking. I immediately blushed red; she had figured out that I wore the nightie, so I may be open to other things along those lines.
We have a client who could make the change for you, and the company will pay for it and a new wardrobe within reason. Since you have not run screaming from the room, why don’t I make you an appointment and let them make a temporary change to see if it is something you might agree to?
I have no idea why I sat there, taking it all in as if I were interested in the proposition. Talk about being scared of accepting her offer of a job, I was speechless. Vickie let me think about it a little more, then offered the appointment again to try the change of gender to see if I could handle it.
I managed to nod my head in acceptance, any verbal response still wedged in my throat. Then, to my surprise, they could take me to the salon in an hour.
Vickie drove me to the salon, told me what to expect, then she would pick me up later and deliver me to one of the apartments for the evening. A realistic immersion in a lifestyle that I would be expected to live in for the foreseeable future.
When she dropped me off at the salon, I was almost ready to throw up. My nerves were shot, my mind going over and over what was to happen in my transformation, and my stomach rumbling with the remains of breakfast.
As I entered the salon, one of their employees came to the front, grabbed my hand, and led me back to one of the treatment rooms. She introduced herself as Gina, my technician for my sex change. Another explosion of red appeared on my face, and the mention of a sex change was more than enough to cause that eruption.
She went over everything that would be used to make the transition, stressing that everything is temporary and can easily be reversed. I was handed documents stating the changes and asked to sign them. Again, everything was spelled out plainly and in words that I easily understood.
I was undressed, Gina having to do most of it since my hands were not functioning in any way helpful. I was given a choice of boobs or a vagina first. Once my face lost some of the instant red blush that appeared, I chose boobs first.
I have no idea why I chose them first; maybe losing my male appendage, even temporarily, terrified me. More red appeared, since as I was undressed, the panties came into view, and I had totally forgotten I was wearing them.
Within an hour, she had managed to glue two quite sizable breast forms to my chest and blended the edges with makeup, making them look like they were original equipment. Of course, this was done after all of my body hair had been treated with a cream that would ensure hair-free skin for months to come.
She moved then to covering up junior, when I looked down at where she was working, I already had a slit instead of a penis, the bouncing boobs on my chest had been responsible for my inattention to what she was doing down below. Even just the act of breathing caused movement of my breasts that seemed hard-wired directly to my brain somehow.
She helped me stand to move to the sinks where she could work on my hair, the wiggling of my breasts, and the now quite evident void in my groin really having an impact on me. Gina promised me some clothes appropriate for my new gender once my hair was washed, conditioned, and set in curlers.
In the meantime, I had cupped my erstwhile breasts with my hands to try to minimize any movement. As I cupped them in each hand, I swore I could feel my hand on the glued-on breast form.
Then a new sensation appeared, the nipple on the breast form started getting hard and pointy, just like a real female. With my mouth open in awe, I stared at Gina, asking how this was possible. I received a smile and a few words. “Feels good. Wait until you try out the new pussy.”
With that thought bouncing around in my poor excuse for a brain, everything shut down for a while, my eyes eventually popping open as Gina finished putting the last curler in my hair. I had plenty of time to go over everything that had just happened as I was placed under a dryer so that my curls could be appropriately formed. I remember going over everything again in my mind, but still no decision on whether all of this was good or bad.
After the hair curlers were removed, and my new feminine do was styled, I was given some clothes to wear.
They were items I had little exposure to, and Gina had to help me dress. I felt so inadequate since I did not even have any experience with a female and her clothing, as on a date or having sex with one.
Makeup was last, a face that I did not recognize, the final image I saw in the mirrors. Gone was my male image; now the name I was given at birth seemed so wrong. Mom had named me Rupert, after my grandfather, a name that I detested and would never answer to. So I got stuck with a nickname of Rue, still not a name I liked, but definitely better than the original.
The image in front of me is not a Rue, definitely not a Rupert, more likely a Rayleigh, a female who seems beautiful and quite attractive. I liked the name; someone in my extended family has that name.
A few minutes later, Vickie came to pick me up, a massive smile on her face as she appraised the looks of her new employee. I was in a daze as she drove me to the apartment complex, although she was trying to have a conversation with me the whole time.
She had to get my attention several times to go with her to look at the apartment, before I finally made the connection and followed her to the apartment. It was nice, way nicer than the place where I was living now.
After looking around, she asked if it would be adequate. I almost screamed yes, thrilled with it, but still not fully aware that I would be living here as a female, and working as one too. We went back to her car, and she took me to lunch, telling me that I could start work this afternoon, and in the meantime, some clothes and food would be set up in the apartment for me.
She did tell me that Cheri will be in the apartment next to mine, and she will be moving in later this afternoon. She made sure I knew the way from work to the apartment, suggesting that I walk home after I finish my work. It sounded good, but also scary. Everything new and different, way different from anything I was used to before.
It was as I was being shown to my desk that I realized that I would be starting immediately. I had heard her tell me that earlier, but it didn’t sink in. I was shown my login for the computer and asked if I needed anything else.
After I signed in, the first page that came up on the computer was my initial assignment. Talk about a work-focused environment, this company seemed to have that handled in spades.
I read over the information supplied about the company and its product, making a few notes for myself as I did so. An idea popped into my head, and I laid it out, then edited it several times to get it just right. I was not paying any attention to the time, just happily adding to my work and changing a few things as needed.
I heard a voice behind me, then turned to see Vicky and Cheri smiling at me, with huge grins plastered on their faces. Vicky suggested that I stop there for the evening. Cheri needs some nourishment and would like you to go to dinner with her. All the time, Cheri was looking at me, nodding her head in the affirmative.
After dinner with the company, we were to spend the night in our apartment. Then tomorrow, decide whether we are happy with the job offered. If we accepted, they would make arrangements to get us moved to our new apartments so we could get settled in. She did compliment each of us on our first afternoon’s work, and the company was quite pleased with their offer of jobs to us.
Cheri and I finished our dinner, then walked back to our apartments. We each entered our apartment to see what we had been set up with for the evening. I heard Cheri squeal, I presume something that she is thrilled with.
I noticed several outfits hanging in my closet, and some lingerie and a nightie in an open dresser drawer. I checked the refrigerator, finding items for breakfast and some snack food, along with several beverages to drink. When I checked the bathroom, I saw things for my hair, along with cosmetics for tomorrow morning.
I wandered back to the living room, seeing Cheri standing in the doorway. She approached me, then cautiously leaned in and kissed me. Her only remark is that she wanted to do this all day. The kiss lasted longer than I expected, but a few moments into the kiss, I didn’t want it to end.
We curled up next to each other on the couch, nibbling on some of the snacks and sipping some soda pop. We talked about everything, discussing the incredible job we now had and how lucky we were. Cheri wanted to cuddle with me tonight. Once I agreed, she ran to her apartment to change into her nightie, then hurried back to slip into bed next to me.
Yes, like the night before I donned the nightie, panties included, and tried to get comfortable. Once Cheri slid into bed with me, we spooned each other, and she was soon asleep, a pleasant end to a very adventurous day. It looks like I have found a suitable position, a position I could learn to love.
© 2016 through 2025 by Francesca