Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: an105831@anon.penet.fi (The Archivist)
Date: Tue, 10 Jan 1995 20:25:36 UTC
Subject: TG ARCHIVES: "Chrissie"
* I did not write this story and I make no claims as to its content. I
* am simply providing a service to the alt.sex.stories newsgroup (and
* therefore the entire 'Net) by continually reposting these stories. I
* am working on the assumption that any document posted to the 'Net becomes
* public domain. However, if you are the original author of one of these
* stories, and you wish for me to remove from my archive, let me know.
*
* These stories deal primarily with female domination, forced feminization,
* and strong transsexual themes. If you get squeemish from this stuff,
* STOP READING NOW.
*
* All requests for subscriptions or reposts will be utterly ignored.
* It's simple enough: just wait for the story to come around again.
*
* If you have stories that you would like to add to this archive, PLEASE
* SEND ME AN INDEX -FIRST- so I can figure out what exactly I need.
*
* -- The Archivist
* TRANSGENDER ARCHIVES
* an105831@anon.penet.fi
Chrissie
by She-Devil
*****
"CALL 911! CALL 911!!"
"What are you talk..." Barbara looked up at Chris. His face
was frantic, chalk white and he was soaked. Soaked to the skin,
wringing wet.
"DAMMIT, BARBIE, CALL GODDAMN 911!," Chris screamed at her.
"A fucking pipe just ruptured in the ceiling and we're losing
all the new inventory, stacks, shipments, and all the reserve
printing stock. Every fucking thing is going!"
Barbara - she really hated the way he called her Barbie, like
some dumb bimbo - jumped up and ran to the printing floor. Sure
enough, a thick jet of water was spraying across the entire print
shop floor. cartons of books, ready for shipment, were already
ruined. The skids of print stock were directly under the downpour.
Fifteen reams of high grade oversized print stock trashed as well!
"I'll call the fire department," Barbara yelled back to her
boss. "Maybe they can shut the water off at the street. You look
downstairs for a water cutoff valve."
Chris took Barbara's advice and started for the basement.
Ordinarily he would have ogled the way her wet T-shirt clung to her
unrestrained breasts, but this time it would have to wait. There
was his business to save.
Where's the light? Chris barked his shin on a heavy wooden
crate and cursed loudly at the sharp pain in his leg. Fuck! Where's
that damn cutoff valve?
Not knowing which valve to close, Chris stumbles through the
basement, shutting every valve he could find. maybe it had been
enough. Chris could still hear the sound of falling water. But
was it tapering off? Painfully, he climbed the cellar stairs,
dreading having to look at his waterlogged shop.
Nothing was left. Oh sure, some out-of-date back issues had
survived but all the new stuff, especially that great three volume
special, were a total loss. Fuck! Where was he going to get the
money to replace all this stuff?
INSURANCE!!!
Shit! Did I pay that premium?
Chris ran to the office and pulled the check ledger from the
top drawer. Cash had been tight lately and he had stalled a few
bills. Not refused to pay them really, you know, just sort of sat
on them a few weeks to even out his cash flow a little and now,
maybe, just maybe, he might not have gotten that goddamn, son-of-a-
bitch check out to the insurance company in time.
You know they'll cancel me for sure. They'll never pay, the
vultures. They'll let me go down the tubes! Bastards, cheap
fucki...Chris collapsed in the chair with an audible sigh of
relief. He had paid the premium on time. In fact, he had the
cancelled check.
The insurance would pay for everything. Otherwise, he was
finished.
*********
"But I don't want to wear your clothes, Barbara."
Chris looked at the sweat shirt and jeans she held with
obvious distaste.
"Chris, get real, will ya?"
Barbara had a little smile on her face. Oh, she was enjoying
this, Chris thought. Just like the little bitch, thinks she's so
goddamned funny.
"I'm not the cheapskate who decided to live in a basement.
And I'm not the one who had all his clothes ruined in a flood. And
you know you'll have to hold on to every penny you can until the
insurance pays up. So what are you going to do? Wear my clothes
or no clothes?
The cow was right goddamn it! He had to hold on to his cash.
They were about the same height. Chris had never been too pleased
with his slim, fair build, and modest height. Hell, in high heels,
Barbie towered over him. Sometimes she even intimidated him.
No way was he wearing girl's clothes! But what was he going
to wear? Jeans and a sweat shirt wouldn't be too bad.
"All right, I'll try these things on...but I'm not happy about
this, Barbie!"
Barbara snickered as Chris stormed off with her old clothes.
Just wait until he saw what she had given him. Through the office's
frosted glass, Barbara could see Chris' silhouette wriggling into
the skin-tight designer jeans. The sweat shirt slipped on easily
but she couldn't suppress a giggle when Chris bellowed out his
disapproval of the sweat shirt's logo.
"I am not wearing this stuff, Barbie, no fucking way!!"
Chris stormed out of the office. His legs looked sexy, female,
and long in the faded skin-tight denim. Even his ass had a sort of
boyishly feminine shape from the corset-like effect of the
seemingly painted on jeans.
"Look at this, fer Crissake, I can't wear THIS!"
`THIS' was Barbara's black sweat shirt with "100% Pure
Princess" printed across the chest.
"Come on, Barbara, get me something reasonable to wear."
"Chris, this all I could spare and I have some sneakers for
you too."
Barbara didn't mention that they were pink.
"And besides, the insurance adjuster called and said he'll be
here in ten minutes."
Chris' face lit up. Money! They were ready to pay up and get
him back in production. It was about time; those skinflint pricks!
Quickly he laced on the pink sneakers without comment and raced to
the front door. Barbara sat back amused, watching her boss' ass
twitch in his girlish jeans, so nervous that he practically was
prancing from one foot to the other. When was this guy going to get
here?
*********
"Chris, Mr. Gooley from the insurance company is in the outer
office. Can you come out and sign for the check?"
"Sure, Barbie. Be right there."
Chris wiped his hands free of No.2 ink and headed up front.
Not bad, he thought, the first check had taken two weeks to
process. It would cover the expenses of repair and reconditioning
the little printing press and the cutter. The big press, collator,
and power stapler would be back from the shop tomorrow.
"Hi, Mr. Gooley. Got a check for me?"
"Uh..Hello, uh, Mr. Parry, I guess...I do have a check but, I
guess it's your sister who will have to sign for it."
"My sister?" Chris responded, confused. What was this idiot
talking about?
"Well, you see, Mr. Parry. I took the claim from your sister
the last time I was here and the policy clearly states that the
company will only deal with the person who files the claim. And
that is your sister,....uh, Chris Parry." Triumphant with his
convoluted recitation of fine print, the insurance agent put the
check in his pocket and stepped back.
The message was pretty clear to Barbara, as she watched her
boss and the insurance agent spark at each other.. No `Sister
Chris', no checks. Now, or ever!
Before Chris could scream at Gooley, to call him the biggest
fatheaded, shitless, dumbass in the world, and tell him that he,
Chris Parry, a man, with balls and a cock, was `Chris Parry', the
non-existent sister, and that Gooley had been too dumb to see that
Chris had been wearing some borrowed clothes, Barbara grabbed her
boss by the arm and hauled him out of the room.
"Get your hands off of me!" Chris pulled his arm away from
Barbara's surprisingly strong grasp.
"I'm going back in there and put my foot up that bozo's
asshole and then I'm taking that check. It's mine and I'm taking it
right now!!"
Barbara blocked the door and pushed Chris back.
"Chris, calm down. Look, you need this money now. The repair
shop is going to want a check for the work they did and we're
supposed to give it to the delivery man tomorrow."
"I know this is distressing, but you need that check. You
won't get the big press back without it. And you don't need to piss
off the one guy who's going to be giving you your insurance checks
every other week for the next ten weeks."
Barbara softened her voice a shade and stepped up next to the
young man.
"I see that this is rough on you, but why not slip into the
jeans and another top? This idiot will give you the check and we're
home free. Anyway, think of how much fun it will be to fool the
dummy into giving `you' the money he just refused to give to you."
*****
It was a pain. Sure, it would be lousy to dress like a girl
again but it would only be for a minute and then he would have the
cash and put one over on MISTER Gooley, the insurance agent from
Hell.
"Mr. Gooley, my brother told me you were here. Sorry, but I
was on a long distance call. What can I do for you?
Gooley had no trouble handing over the check to the young lady
in tight jeans and pink sweats. Too much of a tomboy for his
taste. Probably a dyke, sleeping with that knock-out office
manager. But what the hell, this wasn't his account anyway.
"If you'll just sign here Ms. Parry."
Chris signed the receipt ledger and inspected the check. It
was for the correct amount. Good. Now, he could pay the delivery
boys for the refurbishing with enough left over for the riggers to
get the equipment moved back into position.
"And by the way," Gooley added casually, "I was handling this
claim for Ms. Tanner who was on vacation. She'll be your regular
adjuster from now on. So, if you would call her Ms. Parry, and
introduce yourself, I'm sure it will make the next check delivery
easier."
A few minutes later, Barbara drifted into Chris' office. He
had his feet up, comfortable again in male clothes, looking at the
check.
"Glad that little twerp is off the case, aren't you Barbie?"
Chris smiled smugly at her, not noticing her resentment at the
misuse of her name.
He can be so damn smug, Barbara seethed to herself.
"I'm not so sure, Boss. I mean,...it's, uh..pretty obvious
that, uh,,they're only going to pay a female Chris Parry. Now you
could pass enough to fool that Gooley guy. He was an idiot anyway.
But you fooling another woman? I don't think so."
"I'm afraid that she'll see right through you."
"So what," Chris responded, "I'll tell the truth. I have
nothing to hide."
"But see, Boss, you do. You signed for that check by
impersonating somebody else and that's fraud. I mean, I'm no lawyer
or anything but you pulled a trick on that guy to get the check. He
would never have given it to you as a `male' Chris Parry."
"I'll bet the insurance company would take that as an excuse
to refuse to pay off the claim. Why they might even sue you to get
their money back!"
Chris stopped for a moment, dead in his tracks. For the first
time, the trap he was in was apparent to him. He had signed papers
that said he was a female to get the money and when the next check
was due, he would have to be a `female' again. But this time he
would have to fool another female.
There is no way out! If I show up as a male and confess
they'll cut me off and lock me up. If I show up as a male and
demand the check for my `sister', they'll still cut me off and they
might investigate the whole thing. But if i show up as a girl, I'm
going to have to make a real girl think I'm really female.
PANIC!!
I'm doomed. Fucked! What am I going to do?
"Barbie, you've got to help me. You know this business is all
I have. It pays my salary. It pays yours. Can't you help me out of
this somehow?"
"Chris, it's not all that bad. I have some ideas and I think
we can do a few things that will allow you to fool this Ms.
Tanner."
"Let me make some phone calls and line some things up. We've
got two weeks to get you ready for your first meeting with her, so
let me do my thing."
*********
"I don't want to see any doctor."
Chris was balking at the office's front door. Barbara sensed
that he was ready to bolt so she soothed him.
"Chris, please be practical. I'm sensitive to your concerns.
No real man wants to impersonate a woman. Certainly not as
realistically as you will have to, but this is an emergency."
"Barbie, can't we do something less extreme? Isn't there some
potion or something that can make me look female for a few hours?"
"Oh that's just pipe dream stuff like you see in
alt.sex.stories. There's no magic spells or mind control stuff.
There's just hormones, electrolysis, and plastic surgery, and they
don't work overnight."
"I just hope we have enough time."
Seated on the doctor's examining table, Chris moodily endured
the prodding and poking that came with the doctor's inspection of
his body. Finally, Barbara, Dr. Small, and Chris were seated by the
physician's cluttered desk.
"I see no physical impediment to your plans. Your bone
structure is petite for a male. You weigh only 137 pounds and
you're only 5'6" tall. These parameters suggest that you can become
an attractive female."
"Doing this is not to be taken lightly. You are tampering
with your body and some of its most powerful internal mechanisms.
Hormones do a great deal to shape who we are. Therefore, in giving
you these pills, let me warn you to follow the directions and let
time do the rest."
Estrogen. 500 mg. Once daily. No noticeable effects for
eight to ten weeks.
What good was this going to do?
"Barbie, I just don't see the point? It takes too long, and
I have to see this lady soon. Don't I?"
Barbara pushed Chris into a cab and gave directions. The
filled prescription was in her purse.
"Look, Chris, all we wanted from that doctor was a legal
prescription for estrogen. And we got it."
"Now, where going to see a friend of a friend who does plastic
surgery for special people."
"Is he a doctor?"
"She! She is a doctor, but she's in a little hot water right
now over something or other, so she's doing some minor things to
keep herself in cash."
"How did you find her?"
"An old roomie of mine used to dance topless. I asked her who
does the newcomer's boob jobs and she gave me the name."
It was all happening too fast and it was all too much a
`backdoor' affair, but all the rush had Chris swept up. Barbara
meant to keep it that way.
*********
Chris was laying back on the table. A bright spotlight was
focused on his chest. Barbie and the doctor were talking but his
head was spinning. What were they saying?
"Look, Barbara. This is a big rush, you know. Normally I have
to order the inserts from Mexico since the FDA banned silicon so
I'm going to have to work from what I have in stock. Is that okay
with you?"
"Absolutely, Dr. Lane. Chris has been obsessing over breasts
for a while now. I'm sure a nice big set of jugs will please
him,..er, I mean her, no end."
Dr. Barbara Lane gave a little shrug and picked up the
scalpel. A small incision was made on the lower edge of the right
nipple and retracted. Dr. Lane slowly incised to create a pocket
next to the chest wall and then worked a flat clear plastic sac
into the surgically created space.
Creating a matching insertion in the other breast, the doctor
began to infuse silicon in a measured flow. Carefully balancing the
injections to each sac, Lane finally sealed the now firmly full
inserts and fine sutured the small incision closed.
"The hormones will help. What's he taking?"
"500 mg. per day, Doctor."
"So little?"
"Well, the doctor who prescribed them warned about side
effects."
"Barbara, as far as I'm concerned, you need to take the daily
dosage up to at least 3000 mg if you want to see any results in the
near future. In fact, I'd push him up to 6000 mg daily. That'll get
you some fast progress. And, believe me, the side effects are
minor."
"There will be some bloating. A tendency to get a little
chubby, mostly in the hips, but that's the whole idea isn't it?"
Barbara looked over at Chris, still sleeping off the
tranquilizers. His C-cup breasts filled out his sweatshirt nicely.
The firmly wired bra held his breasts high on his chest. He
wouldn't like having such big breasts, but Barbara would explain.
When Ms. Tanner showed up to meet a busty `Ms.' Parry, all the
questions would be ended once and for all. Granted it was an
extreme step but, all in all, well worth it.
*********
"Barbie, I can't get this bra on right. Can you come in here
please?"
Barbara allowed herself a smile as she made her way into her
boss' office. Chris had the new bra in his hands, looking at it
like it came form Mars.
Barbara had searched and found a Thrift Store that had some of
the old fashioned spiral wired style bras. She had bought a half
dozen of the out-of-date foundations and gave them to Chris to
restrain his exuberant breasts.
"Here, Chris, let me help you."
Having Chris bend forward, Barbara caught each full breast in
a stiffly wired cup, hooking the bra's strap in back. The shoulder
straps slipped up and over Chris' arms easily. Standing up, Chris
allowed Barbara to adjust the straps to her satisfaction and then
looked into the mirror.
His breasts jutted forward like twin missile nose cones.
Quickly, he shrugged on the sweat shirt and looked away from his
reflection.
"Did you take your pill?"
"Yeah, I took it. for all the good it'll do." Chris pushed the
door to his office shut, leaving Barbara alone outside. She had
spiked the coffee with the remaining 5500 mg of hormones. Chris
was good for a pot or two a day.
She opened Chris' door a hairsbreadth and smiled.
"Hey, Boss, I forgot to tell you. I brought in some doughnuts
today."
*****
Barbara had had it.
Four days of trying to teach Chris how to walk like a lady,
move like a lady, and feel comfortable in women's clothes. So far,
he came across like a tomboy with big tits. It wasn't good enough.
"Leslie? Hi it's Barbara from Diversions Press. Oh we're
coming back from the flood nicely and your print job will ship to
you before the 20th of the month. But, that's not why I called."
"I want to order some things from your catalog. And could you
tell me who you get your shoes and corsets from.
*********
Chris stood balancing precariously on five inch heels. His
pencil slim, black leather hobble skirt barely allowed him to take
a step.
The corset crushed his waist from it's natural twenty-eight
inches to a numbing twenty-two. A wide belt accented his tiny waist
and a creamy black angora sweater - a size too small - flaunted the
hard points of his breasts.
"Walk back over here, Chrissie."
"I can't do it. It hurts too much!"
Barbara flicked her riding crop over her feminized boss'
leather bound rump and sent him mincing forward. They had been at
it for days, working up through increasing heel heights and ever
tighter skirts.
Chris was careful not to move his head much. The enormous
bouffant wig he was wearing had an awkward tendency to shift. He
had three layers of make up on and so much jewelry that he rattled
when he walked.
"I want you to go over to the door and greet Ms. Tanner just
the way I taught you."
Dutifully, Chris minced from the back of the printing plant to
the building's front door. Opening it, he flashed a big smile.
In the bright sunlight, he could barely see if anyone was
really there.
"Oh Ms. Tanner, how nice to meet you! I've heard ever so much
about you from that nice Mr. gooley and from my brother. He's so
glad we insured with your company. Won't you come into my office
and let me get you some tea?"
Barbara had put together dozens of little `scripts' that Chris
could use. Under her relentless tutoring, he found himself
responding, according to her dictates, before he knew it."
"Barbie, why do I have to keep dressing this way?"
"Chris, let's not argue this again. I told you that a tight
skirt would help you get a female sway to your hips when you walk
and the corset will give you a nice waist."
"But you've been a good sport. So how about I let you take off
the leather skirt and you can wear something in a knit. It'll be
a lot more comfortable."
"And the corset and the rest of it," Chris asked hopefully.
"That'll have to stay for the moment." Crestfallen, Chris
began to unzip his skirt.
"Did you finish that milk shake I brought back?"
"Uh,..no, I was feeling a little full."
"Thanks a lot for wasting what I went to so much troub...,"
Barbara chided.
"I'll drink it, I'll drink it. See? I'm drinking." Chris
chugged down the vanilla shake. Loaded with added sugar and protein
powder, Barbara though.
"And I left some candy bars over by the paste-up table."
Chris sighed. Why was Barbara turning into a junk food freak?
********
Whenever Barbara took Chris' measurements, she lied. When
they had started, Chris was a 36-28-29, no cup. Now, he was a
36C-22-37. Ten pounds of junk food, right on his rump!
Seeing the way Chris made a truly girlish figure in his black
jersey dress, Barbara was tempted, but that was contrary to her
plans.
"Barbie, can't I have something a little less flashy to wear.
He was such a whiner. They had been over this a million times, but
Chris kept dragging it up.
"Chrissie, honey. You know why we're doing this. The clothes
you'll wear to meet Ms. Tanner will be much less confining. You'll
feel much more comfortable by comparison, and that will show.
Chris, believe me, you'll be ever so much more convincing."
"Now go over to the mirror and fuss like I showed you. Nothing
is more convincing than knowing how to primp in front of the
mirror."
Obediently, Chris swished off to play with his hair and make
up, just as Barbara had ordered.
*********
"Do you think that they'll give us the entire payoff? I'd
love to stop being a girl."
Barbara nodded sympathetically. They were riding back from
the dress store. Barbara had picked white stretch pants and a pink
leather bustier, with pink heels and a hat to match. Chris had
insisted on a quiet, dark brown two-piece suit.
"I don't know. I hope so. You've been so good Boss. The way
you sacrificed to do all this, nobody would do what you've done."
Chris swelled up under the flattery, not noticing the ironic
tone in Barbara's voice.
"Chris, Ms. Tanner just called. There's a problem. She's
running late and wants to know if we can come over to her office to
pick up the check. What do I tell her?"
"Uh,..I've sort of got a problem here too. Could you tell her
we'll call her right back and then, come into my office."
Moments later, Barbara joined Chris and saw his dilemma.
Instead of a conservative suit, Chris was holding a pair of
white stretch pants and a black leather bustier. Barbara had picked
these things as a `joke', matching outfits for the big meeting.
"What do I do, Barbie? The sales girl wrapped up the wrong
things. Do we have time to go back?"
He knew the answer before he asked. It was hopeless. Before
Barbara could answer, Chris picked up the gleaming black leather
garment and held it to his chest in front of the mirror.
"I won't look too bad, will I?"
Barbara was very good - she didn't laugh or anything - as she
assured her red-faced, panty clad boss that he would look just
fine.
*********
"Stand still, Chrissie, I can't get this earring on."
Chrissie fidgeted in his four inch, black patent heels while
Barbara threaded the gold lead wire through his freshly healed
piercings. Big hoops hung from his ears, his hair was fluffed in a
feminine pixie cut, his distractingly full and firm breasts
threatening to overflow the glossy black leather cups of his
bustier; Chrissie was getting ever more anxious.
"Why isn't she here? Do you think she suspects something? She
knows! I'm sure of it. I bet they're just keeping us here until
the police arrive. They're..I bet.."
Chrissie's voice kept rising as his face grew flushed. Barbara
had read the pharmaceutical leaflet that had accompanied the
hormones. There was a noticeable occurrence of emotional upset,
including paranoia, hysteria, and anxiety. Look like little
Chrissie was having his first `hissie'. I'd better put a stop to
this, Barbara thought.
"Chrissie baby, the lady said she was running behind. She's
just late. Now, I want you to have a big smile on that painted face
of yours and let those big fat titties of yours fool old Ms. Tanner
into giving us all our money, okay?"
Shamefaced, Chrissie nodded and sat by the door. With a
little shriek, Chrissie jumped when the door suddenly opened. A
tall, obese woman with short greasy, unkempt hair came in and sat
at the end of the table without introducing herself to the two
waiting `women'.
"My name is Meredith Tanner and I'm your claims adjuster. I
have the check here for the total repair and rehabilitation of the
print shop. Would you sign for that Ms. Parry?"
Stunned, Chrissie jiggled down to the adjusters end of the
conference table and signed to receive the check.
"And I have the check for lost inventory. Books, it seems,
and printing stock. These books are soft core pornography as I
understand it. Is that right?"
"Yes Ma'am," Chrissie stammered, "it's all legal. We print the
books for other publishers who sell them under their own names."
Barbara had been especially sure to prepare Chrissie on how to
answer that question.
"Please sign for that check as well, Ms. Parry and sign the
affidavit as well." Chrissie signed for and took the check and
began to read the formal, legal-looking document.
"Barbie, should I sign this?"
"What does it say?"
"It says that I, Chris Parry, swear under oath that I am a
twenty-four year old female citizen of the United States and the
owner and President of Diversions Press. That I am authorized to
sign for the checks from the insurance company and that all of my
statements made to receive the insurance money are true."
"Well sure, Chrissie, you have to sign that. It's all true
anyway."
"I'm going to have to insist that you sign it from the point
of view of my company, Ms. Parry," Tanner added.
Chrissie signed the affidavit as well and quietly sat, waiting
for the ordeal of the meeting to end.
"Your coverage included lost economic opportunity and your
notice of claim and proof of loss shows a continuing economic
damage of about $175,000 for the next eighteen months. This amount
is, of course, projected and will have to be measured against
actual revenues and expenses of the business."
"Your policy provides that you receive a check at the end of
each quarter to adjust for the actual loss, provided that you
furnish the books and records of the company for inspection. But
it's an awful lot of money, so I doubt there will be any lack of
cooperation."
Chrissie and Barbara both nodded their eager intent to be of
any assistance. $175,000! It was a fortune.
"So I will be at your facility one week before the end of the
quarter to review your record. You can then stop by my office the
first week of the next quarter to pick up your check."
"That concludes my business with you. Sorry to cut this off so
suddenly, but I have four more of these conferences to get to yet
today."
Chrissie tried to speak but Barbara cut her boss off. On the
street, Chrissie stood by the side of the office building and
started to cry.
"Now, what's the matter, Chrissie," Barbara asked, unable to
hide the exasperation in her voice.
"I have to sign for all those checks and meet with that fat
bitch. And I signed that paper under oath that says I'm a girl ..."
Chrissie was getting worked up again but Barbara let him go.
In fact, it was interesting, the way the flush on his face was
spreading down to his big jiggling breasts.
"I'll have to keep dressing like a girl for a year...No, a
year and a half! I'll just die if I have to do that."
"Shut up, Chrissie, and do as you're told. We have some
shopping to do."
*********
"How did it go, Chrissie?"
"Really well, Barbara. Ms. Tanner accepted all the records and
I can pick up the check on Monday."
Chrissie's legs looked long and sexy in her new finger-tip
length red lycra-spandex miniskirt. And her heels, so high they
were, made her arch her big chest out so provocatively.
How long was it now? Thirteen, no fourteen months, Chris had
been Chrissie. Barbara had taken over the day after they returned
from the meeting. With the extra cash flow, printers were hired and
Chrissie found `herself' the receptionist and book keeper. The
first time Chrissie had called Barbara `Barbie', Chrissie had been
dressed like a Barbie doll and had her moth washed out with soap.
Christmas was coming and Barbara took out the shiny red boxes
of jewelry from the bottom drawer of her desk. There was an ankle
chain and a necklace with a personalized dog-tag, including a
diamond chip. And big personalized disk earrings. All 24 karat
plated. And all bearing the name "Chrissie."
Click, clack, click, clack. She's coming back. Barbara got
the gifts back into the drawer before the high heels clicked their
way into her office.
"Here's your coffee, Boss."
Barbara watched her secretary go.
Funny, I only think of her as a girl now. Maybe it's time i
had her dating one of the boys on the print floor?
And maybe best of all, the twelve months Chrissie had to live
as a woman before the surgeon would perform sex reassignment
surgery were up, if Barbara let Chrissie have her cock cut off, she
would sign over the rest of the stock in Diversions.
Barbara imagined Chrissie, chewing gun, in hot pants, walking
coffee back to the boys and giggling when they copped a feel, and
poor as a church mouse. Serve the little fool right, Barbara
thought.
Barbara made a note to herself to buy some gum.
FIN