Message-ID: <2087eli$9707151108@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/2087.txt>
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Subject: New TG: The New Secretary   by Amy Brett  (05/11)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.stories.moderated
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <5qfiok$f4r@nienor.in-berlin.de>


Hi.

  This nifty submission is not included yet, but it will be in next
one during the upcoming weekend. This story is a refelction of the
current jobmarket and conclusions which may occur under strange and
rare situations. So folks be happy if you had a job.

  As usual I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim on it. If
you have some usefull hints or some good coments, your mail is then
welcome. Flames, you know, they will be piped to /dev/null.

  If you are an author and wish to remain anonymouns or just try to
avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your
stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands for
story postings and for nothing else.

Enjoy the story.

Ciao
	Nostrumo

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

_The_New_Secretary_______________________________________by_Amy_Brett_ 5



that's what he told me he'd done."

I moved my hand down her silky front and into her panties, my fingers
finding the spot directly between her legs and pressing.

"Yes," she hissed.  "That's it.  Oh."

I rubbed the spot as she rocked her pelvis forward and back and moaned.  I
wasn't too surprised when she clenched around her orgasm before twisting her
body toward me and kissing me hard for long minutes.

"Oh, Amy," she said.  "You understand."

"Yes.  I understand," I told her as I got a few Kleenex to clean off my hand
and give to her to clean up her stomach.

Satisfied and happy, she nuzzled into my neck and fell asleep.

I lay there for a while wondering what the new day would bring and if it
could possibly be as event filled as the last few had been.



11. Chapter


I had bought exactly one set of lace panties and tight uplift bra that I put
on when I got out of the bathtub before putting on my sheerest pantyhose, my
only short skirt (a pink one that was really part of a suit), and a white
puff sleeved blouse with an open circle neck that fell low in front almost
to my bra.

A thin silver chain with a silver medallion lay on my chest at the top of a
noticeable cleavage and matching dangly earrings hung from my earlobes.

Paula bounded with excitement and bounced my breasts on her palms with a
giggle as she went into the bathroom to get ready, saying she didn't have
anything to worry about if I could do what I'd done and look so great.

I got more rave notices when I went to the kitchen to join Margaret and
Michelle for coffee and donuts.  While we ate, I filled them in on what had
happened the day before and what the status was for them.  Michelle didn't
seem to care and Margaret didn't seem overly worried about herself.  She did
express some concern for Paula and me.  I told her we'd be okay and
sincerely hoped I was right.

We agreed to support Paula and, if necessary, to help her with her outfit.
But we needn't have worried.  When she came out of the room, her legs were
sheathed in sheer pantyhose and looked great, if just a little skinny.

The tight white skirt would have been impossible to walk in if it had been a
foot longer.  But since it ended high on her thighs, it could hardly tie her
knees together.

The equally tight white tee-shirt with its red and blue sequined flowers
bulged over her cute bra and circled low on her chest.  She wore several
brass bracelets and a necklace that was chain to a series of brass coins on
her chest.  One coin hung from each ear below her short auburn hair.

"Oh, honey, isn't that cute!" Margaret said before any of us could react.

"It looks great on you, Paula," Michelle said.  I just smiled my approval
and nodded an I-told- you-so nod.  She grinned back happily.

                                * * *

When I walked into my office, I wondered if I'd taken a wrong turn
somewhere.  I had to look at Mr.  Miller's name on his door before I was
convinced.

The night before when I left, my desk was a solid dark wood one with an
L-extension that held the computer.  The open end had been open to a wall
next to Bill's door and four chairs sat across the room behind a low coffee
table.  The door to the hallway had been to the left of the row of chairs.

Now, a new glass topped desk sat tight to the edge of the door, a dropped
glass leaf on the right held my computer, and two chairs and short end
tables were on each side of Bill's door.  There were even new paintings over
each pair of chairs.

When I sat down in the soft white leather office chair and turned to start
the computer, I saw that I was looking directly at Bill's door over the top
of the computer monitor.  The computer itself was on the floor to the right
side of the drop leaf and the printer against the wall to the right.  All
the wires were neatly hidden.

I printed out the schedule, as I had the morning before, and went for
coffee.  When I got back, the door to Bill's office was propped open with a
large crystal ball with a carved rearing horse inside.

He looked up from some papers on his desk as I came in and smiled as his
eyes moved up and down my body.  He stood up as I progressed across the room
and came around to his seat at the front of the desk.

I gasped as his hands came up under my breasts and bounced them as Paula had
earlier.

"Very nice," he said.  "Your legs look luscious in that skirt, too.  Let me
see."

"What?" I said, not understanding.

"Under your skirt.  Your panties." I know my mouth dropped open with shock
but he just waited.

I looked out the open door and lifted it off my lap.

"Mmm.  No.  Either thigh high stockings or, preferably, stockings and garter
belts.  Okay?" I shrugged.  Was there a choice?  "Well, no problem.  You
have an appointment with Dr.  Phillips.  Phil.  At 9:30.  You and Paula.
While you're out, you can do a little shopping.

"Do you have plenty of outfits?  Short skirts.  Nice tops like that."

"I'll have to shorten some," I said.  "My wardrobe's a little limited."

"No problem.  You can get a few things now, this morning, and take your
things in to a tailor I know.  It'll be much faster and easier."

"I'm sorry, sir.  But ..."

"Don't call me sir," he snapped.

"Ah, sure Bill.  But I'm almost broke.  We've been out of work for ..."

"Oh.  Of course.  This is by way of company public relations.  I'll talk to
Roger."

I was still in shock as he rolled on into several things he was expecting of
the day and added several items to his schedule.

"We'll get one of the guards to drive you to your appointment and shopping
in a company car.  Good?" I could only shrug.  It seemed that things were
out of my control altogether.

"Okay," he said and stood up to round his desk.  I got up and went to my
desk to enter the new items in his schedule.  He picked up the telephone as
I sat down.  I could hear him clearly from here.

"Roger.  Pull about three or four hundred from petty cash each for Paula and
Amy.  Yeah.  On the public relations budget.  Right.  Well, how well do you
want your secretary dressed?" He laughed.  "Right.  That'll have to be on
your own budget.  Yeah, it's for clothes for the two of them.  They need it
and so does the office.  That's why.  Okay.  Thanks, Roger.  Get it to Paula
before about nine.  Tell her what it's for and that half is for Amy.  Okay?
Good.  Thanks.  Yeah.  Thanks.  Good." He hung up.

When he looked up into my eyes and then down below the computer monitor, I
realized part of the value of the new office arrangement.  At least for him.
I crossed my legs.

                                * * *

The doctor's office was nothing like I expected.  The reception area was
small, with four chairs and a receptionist's window where we told a woman,
who looked like a cashier, that we were there.  More like a dentist's
office, I thought.

A nurse, in white starched dress, white stockings and shoes, and perky cap,
called Paula in through the door a few minutes later and, part way through
an Reader's Digest article, called me.

I followed her to a small room that included a chair, instrument covered
stainless steel cart, and cupboards.

"We'll just get blood first," she said and proceeded to drain four test
tubes full before curling my arm around a cotton ball.  Then she took my
blood pressure and heart rate with an automated blood pressure cup on the
other arm that read out on a digital display on the wall.  She wrote it
down.

She stood me up, take off my bra (and the breast forms), had me take off my
shoes, and put me on a medical scale for height and weight.  Then she used a
tape measure for chest, waist, hips, thighs at mid thigh, calves, ankles,
wrists, forearms, biceps, and neck measurements.  She asked shoe, pants,
shirt, dress, skirt, blouse, and bra sizes.  Then she let me put my bra back
on.

We'd sat and filled out a normal patient form in the waiting room before
Paula was called in.  Now the nurse sat down in another chair to my side and
asked me a long series of questions that started with, "Are you aware of any
medical problems?" and went on through drugs, habits, and childhood
diseases.  She was particularly interested in any drug reactions or any long
term drug use.

All of this was done without comment and very friendly.  She didn't seem to
take any particular note of my obvious deviation from the norm and didn't
comment on it at all.  I couldn't help wondering how many guys came in
wearing skirts and high heels.

She left for a moment and came back almost immediately to lead me into the
doctor's office.

Dr.  Phillips is a large, friendly man with massive hands that enfolded mine
when he shook it.

"Call me Phil," he said as he indicated a chair in front of his moderate
sized desk in the very medical looking office.  It was carpeted with a kind
of nondescript indoor-outdoor carpet and had several shelves of haphazardly
arranged books and a window behind him.

"Bill made your appointment for you.  Do you know what for?"

"Yes," I said.  "I believe so anyway."

"He thinks you need a course of hormone treatments.  Have you agreed to
this?" I shrugged.  I really hadn't been consulted.  First he'd suggested it
as a possibility and then told me I had the appointment.  I told him that
and he sat back in his chair.

"So you really haven't agreed.  Is that right?"

"I haven't.  But I'm here and I knew why."

"Has this been made a condition of your employment?"

"Not that I'm aware of.  Bill didn't tell me that."

"It's quite important that you agree to the procedure.  But let me tell you
about it first.  Okay?" I nodded.  "Very well.

"The first step is series of injections.  If you agree, three today, three
tomorrow about this time, and three the next day.  Two of the three will
produce direct stimulation of breast growth.  The third will balance female
hormones with testosterone levels in your body.  Today's will be a kind of
starter but the next two will be based on analytical results from your blood
tests.

"The value to you in this is that you will immediately see some diminished
facial and body hair growth, some softening in musculature, and stimulation
of body weight redistribution." I nodded again.

"The balancing act is good because it does not have an affect on libido.
Sexual desire or response." He cleared his throat and went on without pause.

"We'll do analysis of blood again tomorrow and the next day as well to see
the results of our injections as we go.  We'll also keep very careful track
of the measurements we took today and check for any negative physical
reactions to the medication.  We'll talk more so we can determine your
personal reactions."

Sitting forward in the chair again, he went on.  "When we get the results of
the third blood test, we'll prescribe a long term oral form of hormone
supplement.

"It's important that you know that though the injections, in particular,
have an almost immediate affect, it is reversible by simply discontinuing
treatment at any point.  The success and speed of reversal, of course,
diminishes over time.

"We've found that about three months is a kind of break-off point.  Beyond
that, there are some long term changes that can take months or even years to
reverse."

He studied his hands for a minute.

"We've found that the results of the course of medication is highly
variable.  This is dependent on the patient's musculature, size, body fat,
profusion of body hair, existing hormone levels ...  just a myriad of
things, in fact.  Some results in some patients is almost immediate.
Meaning there will be noticeable physical results by the end of the week.

"In fact, your body shape, coloring, size and musculature is the most
amenable to the treatments.  You may experience unexpectedly noticeable
results sooner than most.

"After the initial course of injections and prescription of the maintenance
additives, we'll check on our progress in a week, two weeks, and again a
month later and every month after for the first year or so."

"What's the bill for all this?" I asked.

"It's not terribly expensive but Bill has already agreed to pick up the tab.
If you decide to stop the course of treatment, any cost stops, of course.
If, for some reason, you decide to continue but stop working for Bill, he's
agreed to pay the first two years of treatments after your separation."

"Are there any psychological effects?" I wondered.

"A few but they seem to be fairly minor.  Perhaps slight emotional
enhancement.  You could cry at things you wouldn't now, for instance.  But
it's not like your general outlook will change or you'll suddenly have
uncontrollable urges to do housework.  Unless you already do, of course," he
said with a laugh.  "Seriously, you may experience slight depressions but
balanced with heightened peaks.  Slight mood swings that might be somewhat
disconcerting because they are rapid, if not extreme."

"So what now?"

"There's just one more examination we need to do and then the injections, if
you are positive about it." Decision time, I thought.  It helped that it
wasn't an all or nothing decision.  I could change my mind without too much
damage being done, if what he said was true.  And I had no reason to think
otherwise.

"Okay," I said finally.

"Good.  Then, if you don't mind, come over here and lift your skirt for me,"
he said.  When I was next to him and had my skirt around my waist, he leaned
forward and pulled down my pantyhose and panties.

"We're checking two things here," he explained as he reached between my legs
and took my balls in his fingers.  "Physical size and characteristics and
normal responses.  Okay?  Believe me that it's necessary.  Any indication of
potential problems will show up here first so we have to have baseline
information.  I'm not just a degenerate."

As he'd been speaking, he'd been manipulating my penis from side to side,
inspecting it, and gently feeling my testicles.

"Any problems here?" he asked as his fingers began moving on my partially
hardened penis.

"Ah, no." I had gone from almost completely soft when he pulled down my
panties to as hard as I ever get.  His fingers left my balls and pressed
into the depressions below them and then against the soft spot below my
sack.  His hand had never stopped moving on my penis.

"Okay." He stopped.  "Turn around now." I saw him reach into a desk drawer
and put on a rubber glove, coating a thick finger with KY jelly.  "Bend a
little.  That's it.  Good."

His finger dove into my asshole before twisting from side to side and then
pressing and rubbing my prostate gland.  I'd never found that to be an
unpleasant examination but when his hand returned to my penis and began
moving up and down it as his finger rubbed my prostate, that was infinitely
more pleasant than the normal exam.  It took only a moment before I came,
shooting come on the floor in front of my shoes before drooling the last
between them.

He pulled his finger out of my butt and pulled out several pieces of Kleenex
to hand me.

"Okay.  You can clean up now.  Just put it in the trash can there and don't
worry about the floor."

I cleaned off the head of my dick and looked over my shoulder at him writing
some entries on the medical form.  I cleaned off the KY on my bottom and
dropped the soiled tissues in the garbage.

"Before you replace your clothing, we'll do the injection," he said, turning
with a needle in his hand filled with pink liquid.  He tapped it with a
finger and, before I could anticipate overly, stuck it in my ass high enough
that I wouldn't sit on it.  It didn't hurt.

"Okay.  Pull them back up now," he said.  I pulled the panties into place
and got the pantyhose right before dropping the skirt.

He dropped the syringe in the garbage, turned and got another.

"Just pull up your blouse and bra in front," he said.  He didn't waste time
with explanations of what was going on now.

He rubbed very chilly alcohol on one nipple and moved the tip of the needle
into the area just below it in the surrounding darker skin.  The shot stung
when it went in and I grimaced but didn't move.

"One more," he said, turning to get another syringe.  He did it again with
the other nipple.  "Good.  All done for today.  We'll see you same time
tomorrow.  Okay?"

"Yeah.  I guess," I said as I pulled the bra back into place and then the
blouse down where it belonged.  I turned my back to him to lift the skirt
and pull the blouse back into place.

Paula was grinning when she looked up from a magazine as I went back out.

We spent the next hour and a half at the mall buying new bras, panties,
short skirts, filmy blouses, camisoles, stockings, and garter belts.  We
spent every dime and treated ourselves to a nice lunch at a french
restaurant in the mall.

We got back to the office with our bags before one.

I told Bill I had appointments for the next two days and sat down at the
computer.  I wondered if he could see the skin above the stockings when I
looked up and saw his eyes on my legs.



12. Chapter


There were several memos ready for typing as well as changes to a
spreadsheet.  I worked along steadily but, after about half an hour, I
realized that my nipples under the breast forms itched and I'd been
scratching under the bottom of the bra for a while and squirming in the
chair more.

Finally, I found that my bladder was full and the itching was getting to me
so I excused myself and went to the women's room.

Safe in a cubicle, I lifted my blouse and bra and looked at my chest,
putting my fingers on my nipples and rubbing through them without rubbing
the sensitive surfaces.  I noticed that the nipples and the darker
surrounding circles were swollen considerably so they were much larger than
normal and hardened as I'd never seen them.  Even some of the skin
surrounding them and below was puffier than before.

I recognized it as just being irritated, not that they were growing already.
I didn't think that was possible.  But it certainly itched.

Paula came in as I was about to go out and came directly to me with a
harried look on her face.

"God, Amy," she said.  "My nipples are driving me crazy.  They itch so bad I
think I'm going to go over the deep end if it doesn't quit."

That just made mine come back to mind even though I'd sort of dismissed it
for a minute while I checked my makeup.

"Yeah.  Mine too.  The shots must irritate them," I suggested.

"This is the second time I've been in here since we got back," she said.
"It's terrible."

"Try to leave them alone, if you can," I said as she rolled her tiny breast
forms with both hands.  "Let me see."

Quickly, she lifted her tee-shirt and bra and I saw that hers looked like
mine but bigger and redder.

"Do you think they're growing already?" she hissed.

"No.  It couldn't be that fast.  The shot just makes them really sensitive."
I brushed one of hers and she cringed.

"Damn.  That feels great," she hissed again.  "They ARE sensitive."

"I think we better do our best to leave them alone.  It's like the more you
mess with a sore or something, the worse it is."

"Yeah.  You're right.  But I'd still do about anything to get you to suck
them for me," she said with a big grin.

"Maybe later," I said with a chuckle.  She started pulling the shirt back
into place and I helped her get the bra pulled back down right on the sides.

I went around her and back to my office.  Being around her fidgeting made
mine itch worse, too.

I tried hard to concentrate on my work but it was hard and I caught myself
squirming or rubbing myself several times.  Several of those times, I looked
up to see Bill watching me do it and blushed.  As hard as I tried, I
couldn't seem to stop it completely.  Instead, I only resisted it and became
self-conscious.

                                * * *

I took some of the memos in to Bill and he looked at his watch and grinned
at me.

"Grab the coffee and let's talk," he said.  I nodded and went for it.  I sat
it on the front of the desk as he came around.  "Why don't you shut the
door?" he said and I returned to the crystal ball and bent to roll it to one
side.  It must have weighed thirty pounds but, luckily, rolled fairly easily
to the side and out of the deep hole it had made in the carpet.

I shut the door and sat down.  I had my hands crossed over my crossed knees.
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and covered my hands with
his.

"I've been watching you.  How are you doing?" he said sincerely.

"I'm okay.  I just itch a little." He nodded.

"What'd Phil do today?" I told him all of it in a kind of shorthand.
Interview.  Weight and measurements.  Explanation.  Shots.  And plans for
the next two days and later.  He listened while holding my hands loosely.
As I talked, I found that I was more aware of the itch instead of less.  But
under his intense scrutiny, I couldn't do anything to relieve it at all.

"You said they're irritated?" I nodded.  "And swollen?" I nodded.  He
couldn't have been teasing them with his fingers and made me any more aware
of them.  "Itchy and sensitive?"

"Yeah," I chuckled.  "And this is making it even more."

"But you can't scratch them now," he said.  I wasn't sure whether I couldn't
because he was there watching or that he wouldn't let me.  He grinned as he
looked at my chest and continued holding my hands.  I squirmed, feeling the
itch now in more than just my chest.

"I think I need to go to the ladies' for a minute," I said but he shook his
head as his smile spread a little.

"There's nothing like an itch you can't scratch, is there?  It seems like
the more you try not to think about it, the more it demands your attention."

I squirmed more and, if possible, it got worse.

"We both have a problem," he said.  "I'm just itching to see them and you're
just itching.  So what do you think the solution might be?"

"I'll let you watch while I scratch," I said immediately starting to move my
hands to do that.

"No," he said.  "Instead, I think you'll take your blouse off for me.  Then
you'll put your hands on the arms of the chair and let me take care of the
rest.  Don't you?"

"Okay.  Just " He let go of my hands and I lifted the blouse over my head
quickly to put my hands on the arms of the chair.  I moaned as he used both
hands and pinched the false nipples of the breast forms through the bra.

"No.  Please.  Don't tease me.  If you won't let me, please do it for me," I
begged.

"Okay.  That was cruel." He reached under both arms and found the fastener
of the bra, undid it quickly, and moved it down my arms.  I moved them
forward so he could take it off and was surprised when I looked down at my
chest.  They were at least twice as swollen as before, the slightly reddened
and enlarged area extending a couple of inches onto the skin surrounding the
darker circles.

Where my nipples had been typically male and about the size of pencil
erasers before, right now they were reddened, hard, and several times their
normal size.  The circles, the areolas, were swollen in the same way and, I
thought, larger than normal by at least twice.

His fingers of both hands lightly and ineffectively brushed across the
nipples and areolas, only making them much worse.  I gripped the arms of the
chair tightly and squirmed some more.

"Please," I finally moaned.

"What do you want me to do?"

"M-maybe pinch them.  A little.  Roll maybe.  I-I don't know.  R-rub " But I
gasped with pleasure as he squeezed slightly and rolled both nipples and
areolas.  My back arched forward.

"Very appealing," he said, a smile in his voice.

"Please," I moaned, enjoying what he was doing but needing more.  He put two
fingers and thumb on one and squeezed harder, milking it slightly.  I moaned
with pleasure and a kind of relief.  "Yes."

"Hmm.  If that's good, this will be great," he said leaning forward and
licking one of them.  It was wonderful.  But even as I felt it, he moved
back away.  I leaned forward to offer it again and he licked and moved away
further.  I was forward in the chair, just sitting on the front edge.  He
grinned and rolled the other nipple satisfyingly.

He licked again and moved back.  I followed and found myself standing in
front of him.  He licked and sat back and I crawled up into his chair with
him, my knees on either side of his body.

As I fed him my nipple, holding his head against me, he began sucking me as
his fingers pinched the other nipple more roughly but infinitely more
satisfyingly.  As I started having trouble breathing, he switched breasts
and, at the same time, moved the newly freed hand under the back of my
skirt, into the back of my panties, and down to my asshole.  For the second
time of the day, a large finger slid into my body in the remaining KY jelly.

I squealed with pleasure as I came in my panties.

While I came down from that, he used the fingers and thumbs of both hands to
thoroughly roll and squeeze my nipples and areolas, finally satisfying the
itch that had started it all.

"Mmmm.  You do that so good, I'll let you do it every time I can't stand it
any more," I told him.

When I put the bra back on, he fastened it for me and held the blouse over
my head and pulled it down into place for me.  Still helping, after I tucked
it in, he pulled it down right under my skirt, reminding me that I needed to
do a little cleaning up.

I went to the bathroom after I'd done as he asked and bent at the waist to
move the crystal back into place in front of the door.

Paula saw me go by on my way to the bathroom and followed me, begging me to
do her nipples again.

Finally back at my desk, I got some work done before he itches got to me
again and I had to return to Bill's side.  He had me untuck my blouse and
slid his hands up under it to roll and squeeze them for several minutes as I
stood there beside him enjoying it.

Paula and I did that to each other twice during the evening before we went
to bed.  I sucked hers as Bill had until she came.  Then she returned the
favor.

I still woke in the night once with the itch but fell asleep rolling them
myself.



13. Chapter


Except for the tight black skirt and silky black top I wore the next
morning, everything went almost identically.  Morning coffee (with the
addition of a nipple rub), the doctor's appointment with the same ritual
(including weight, blood, shots, and orgasm on his finger), an early lunch
on the way back to the office, more itching and having Bill scratch for me,
and an orgasm with afternoon coffee.

The swelling hadn't gone down appreciably when I went to the doctor and he
told me that was normal and seconded that it wasn't real growth that
quickly.

That night, Paula and I told Michelle and Margaret about the whole
experience and what was happening.  Michelle was a little miffed that she
hadn't gotten in on the deal but didn't mind getting a blow by blow of what
was happening to us before signing up for the same thing herself.

                                * * *

Friday started off fairly similar.  There seemed to be a little more
swelling, this time on the inside of my breasts where the second shot had
gone, and the original hadn't gone down that I could see.  My nipples and
areolas were far redder and larger than they had been, very sensitive, and
itchy.

Red lace underwear, the first garter belt I'd ever worn, red pumps, and a
red silk dress that weighed about two ounces made my outfit.  Everyone
seemed to like it a lot.

I forgot about one of the results of wearing a dress to the doctor's office.
Right off the bat with the nurse, I had to take it all the way off to get my
bra off for the weighing and measuring.  Then I had to undo the garters for
the hip measurement.

She made me blush by telling me that, my nipples swollen the way they were,
she'd seen dozens of women who weren't as feminine looking as I was in
panties, loose stockings, and a smile.  As if to prove it to herself, she
reached into my panties and cupped my balls and penis "to prove it" to
herself, she said.

As if turnabout, when I was finished, she lifted her skirt and I saw that
she too wore a garter belt but without he panties.  Her "clit" just wasn't
as big as mine, she giggled as she let me check for myself.  She helped me
dress and suggested putting the panties on the outside of the garters so I
wouldn't have to undo them again with the doctor.

The final shots went as the others had, this time on the outsides of my
areolas.

For the third time, he got on his glove, checked out my balls and penis, and
fucked my ass with a thick finger as he made me come.  After I cleaned up
and dressed, he had me sit down in front of his desk.

"Okay," he began.  "What we've done is sort of a jump start on the process.
Using your first blood sample, we've formulated a good approximation of your
balance hormones.  Three each day, morning, afternoon, and bedtime.  By next
Friday's appointment, we should be able to come closer to balance.

"For the last three days, we've been monitoring the effects of the jump
start dosages.  If there were going to be any side effects, we would have
seen them.  We haven't."

He looked at his clipboard.

"Part of the extensive set of measurements we've taken is to see the early
results.  The first quarter of the ballgame.  Of course, the first quarter
is a poor predictor of the final score.  But if it's 44 to nothing, you've
at least got a pretty good idea of the way it should go.

"And that's exactly what we've got here.  A complete blowout.

"Height, unchanged.  That's usual.  Weight, up two pounds.  We'll watch that
but it's probably good at this stage.  Musculature, softening.  Gaining in
the biceps, thighs, and hips where you should.  Losing in the forearms,
calves, and waist where you should.  The others are stable as they should
be.  Wrist, ankle, neck.  Penis and testicles, normal and decreasing only
very slightly if at all.  Response quickening slightly but maybe you're just
getting used to the situation.

"You've gained an inch of hips and lost two of waist, by the way, and this
may make some dress size differences if the trend continues.

"You've noticed the initial reaction of the hormonal stimulation of breasts,
nipples and areolas.  With the injection today, you'll notice further
increase for the next three or four days but then it will back off somewhat.
Maybe as much as half the increase.  Then, as the balance takes effect
during the next month, you should see some real longer term growth.

"Be careful with your diet.  Balanced meals and no extra snacking or we may
see a weight gain you won't appreciate.

"A biological woman's hormone levels vacillate considerably during the month
in response to her menses, of course.  Many of the mood swings you observe
in other women are a result of these imbalances.  Unless you want to
experience your 'sister's' discomforts, you won't have to vary hormonal
balance.  Your body's natural hormonal swings may, however, occasionally
throw off the balance somewhat.

"When you're more familiar with the results and the swings, you may want to
experiment with dosages but I wouldn't bother unless they are pronounced or
particularly uncomfortable."

He'd done all this emotionlessly.  Now he sat back and smiled.

"Okay, Amy.  Let me tell you first that your friend's results are perfectly
normal for our work.  In three months, she will gain a full cup size and
have fully formed nipples and areolas.  She probably won't gain much more
than that.  She's slight so she probably won't lose much waist size but she
will gain an inch of hips.  She wasn't muscular, just as you weren't, so
there may not be noticeable reduction in biceps or thigh development.  She
obviously doesn't eat much or has a high metabolic rate so it's unlikely
she'll overeat and gain undue weight.

"Basically, slow, cautious feminization.  Probably slow enough that the
change won't be perceptible by close friends.  She's happy with that.

"Now you, on the other hand, are a different case altogether.  We call the
few we've seen like you our high achievers." He grinned at his own
cleverness.

"Your waist loss is three to four times our normal case.  Your hip gain is
double.  Your breast development is already notable and likely only to pause
slightly before blossoming.  You chose your breast forms appropriately.  In
another week, you could be an A-cup and I wouldn't be surprised if you
filled out those C-cup bras in three months.  I'm not sure but it's possible
you'll be bigger than that eventually but the growth should slow by then.

"Similarly, your waist is likely to be two to three inches smaller while
your hips may be two to three inches bigger.  You'll gain thigh mass and,
probably, biceps mass as the more muscular forearms and calves lose
slightly.

"I want to emphasize again that the game ain't over til it's over.  But,
from our experience, you are quite likely to have a spectacular shape."

He sat there grinning at me as if expecting something from me but I didn't
know quite how to respond.

"So I'm going to have big tits, baby hips, and a wasp waist?  Is that it?"

"Pretty much.  A good butt and great legs, too."

"So I should be really happy, right?"

"I think so," he said.  "Listen.  We do some rehabilitative work with women
who have some development problems they want to correct without cosmetic
surgery.  After a year, they would go crazy for what I think you are going
to develop in three months.

"This is the absolute plus plus for my work." He grinned some more.  "Also,
I think you are going to do it with a minimum of depression or mood swings.
But if I'm wrong and you have any psychological problems at all, no matter
how slight, you give me a call and we can talk about it.

"There are all sorts of possible courses of action if that happens to be too
extreme.  Mood altering drugs.  Modifications to your dosages.  Changes in
the formulation of hormones.  Even discontinuation.  Or maybe we can address
any problems with simple consultation.  A little psychoanalysis.

"My last question," he said, leaning as close as he could from behind his
desk.  "Are you happy with what I've said?"

I thought about it.  It had been a week since I was a frustrated male
looking for a job.  Now I was a very happy working person with a more
questionable gender.  But heading for "foxy lady." Was I happy?

-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /