A Work In Progress

Chapter Eight: A Changing

I was not prepared for shopping for clothes. As a man, you get clothes by inches and the style and colors were, it seemed now, severely limited. I spent hours trying on dresses and skirts and silk blouses and cotton blends and cocktail dresses. I even went through some evening wear. The trouble, I was finding, was that the sizes seemed random to the manufacturer. A size six by one was huge but by another it was too small in the chest and hips. Luckily I was in a high dollar store for the dresses. I picked out ten different skirts and 14 blouses in various colors, and jackets to match or compliment the skirts for work and four little dresses and littler skirts for play. As with Stephanie, I was letting the saleswoman guide me with matching and mixing the colors. I picked out a few cocktail dresses and two gowns, and all of it needed to be tailored. There was a slinky little back cotton blend cocktail dress that I paid extra to have sized to fit me right and returned for me to wear tonight.

I had Maurice drive me to a department store so I could buy some jeans and other simple clothes and now I was back in the limo with those purchases. I called to Ralph while we made our way through traffic and cancelled the Salvation Army pick up, because I was going to get out of this thing. Not that I told Ralph that but I had to get back to being me. I hung up the phone and looked down at the clothes from my life before it got all mixed up and then to the bags of jeans and khaki slacks and pullovers and oxford blouses. I took a moment in traffic to just for a moment consider how things were going.

I should have been uncomfortable, the truth was I was not. I sat with my legs together partially folded back, a position of sitting one cannot perform with a pair of testicles without a great deal of discomfort. I kind of liked how my panties felt on, though I had more than a few practical pairs of cotton ones, I liked these satiny French cut ones and was kind of looking forward to some of the skimpier skirts I had bought to see just how uncomfortable the thongs were. Even the bra was tolerable, but comfortable was not a fitting word for it. Nothing cut in, but it was like having an ace bandage around your chest in that it was not quite restrictive, but your knew where all the straps were. I felt pretty and that was nice. My hair wasn t such a bother with the velvet schrunchi I had bought to club it back. It felt nice to be who I was.

I was feeling this sort of love for man kind and decided I should see how it felt in women s clothes rather than the ones I had worn out of the house. I was in another world and started stripping off the shirt I had worn all day without checking to make sure I had put the privacy glass back up. I tossed the shirt aside and kicked off my new sneakers and then wriggled out of the khaki trousers. I leaned over to root through my bags having no idea I was giving Maurice quite a show, and more of one as I leaned over the bags. I settled on a tee shirt and a pair of jeans. I pulled on the shirt and then saw the glass was down. I frowned and then put it out of my head, Maurice had been nothing but nice to me all day, he would not treat me like that even with my forgetfulness. I wriggled myself into the jeans and pulled on the khaki windbreaker I had bought. Once my shoes were on, I sat back and sighed.

It still felt nice.

I watched the city go by for the rest of the drive and considered my options for the night. I should have been thinking about finding someone to undo this magic thing, but I was thinking about that little black number and how good Tina had promised me it would look when taken up properly. I was going to be stunning and I had a strapless bra to aid me with my first foray out. I would rather not be making it when I thought about it on the phone with my mother, but this was a see and be seen event and these were usually crucial to keeping your career on path. I suddenly realized we were in the garage of my building and Maurice was looking at me in the rear view.

You look very nice, Miss Adair. He said with a different timber in his voice.

Thank you Maurice. I smiled to him, having put my inadvertent display to him out of my head. He got out and I turned to gather up my bags for when he let me out. The door opened as I was still gathering. Just a second, Mau The door closed after a weight moved the seat beside me. I turned and was looking at Maurice. My stomach tightened up a little. What s up, Maurice?

I liked you showing me what you have. He said in a voice that was almost slurred with some dark emotion and I did not care for the light in his eyes. Uncle Ralph says you are the nicest woman in his building so maybe you ll be nice to me when I show you what I got.

Look, Maurice I started feeling my stomach tighten up and my mouth go dry, I didn t mean to.. I looked down as he did and gasped. He had taken his hard cock out and was stroking it with a wicked grin on his face.

Mouth watering, huh? I flushed with rage and shame and anger and did the only thing I could think of to clear his mind. I slapped his five inch hard-on as hard as I could. He groaned and rolled against the door. I planted a knee in his crotch and used it to leverage over him and open the door and getting an even louder groan of pain as I crushed his balls with my knee. When the door opened, he fell out onto the garage floor and I climbed over him with my bags in hand.

I will not only, not be using your service again, I will not be paying you Maurice. I turned and glared at him. If you so much as look at me ever again I will report you to the commission and I will be telling your Uncle! I turned and stormed off for the elevators, which would deny me the satisfaction of slamming a door on him.

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