The Secretary Experience

I nodded again and then croaked out a weak, "thanks." I held up my pale arms. "I'm sure it'll help." I wasn't thinking about my arms or how they would look after another four or five sessions. I was thinking of my tan lines and how the pale skin would contrast with the darker skin not covered by that tiny yellow top. Would it look ridiculous? Maybe. Was I anxious to see how it turned out when my tanning sessions were completed? Ten-four, good buddy.

Bonnie just smiled. Was she thinking about my tan lines as much as I was or had that thought eluded her? For me, that idea was paramount and arousing, causing me want to lay out in my own back yard just to speed up the darkening of my skin.

We left Suntans and drove to lunch. We chatted like girlfriends, sipping wine and sharing gossip. Bonnie told me about her newest client, a young boy that had broken both his legs and temporarily lost the use of one arm thanks to an accident and a poorly installed child safety seat.

"That's horrible."

Bonnie agreed.

Our salads arrived. It was one of the things I still did to maintain my thin physique. Fitting into my feminine attire took a lot of work. No matter how good a juicy cheeseburger would taste, a tiny chef's salad with a drizzle of vinaigrette was far better for my waistline.

We ate and chatted. When we were alone, and no one was near us, Bonnie would call me Autumn. Around others or if she wasn't sure, she called me George. I wasn't sure which one I liked the most. George was given to me by my parents and I would always be George, but that new name, the one Bonnie gave me made me tingle and grin.

"So, Autumn," Bonnie said. "Are you ready to go shopping yet?"

I shook my head, "No."

She pouted. "You know you are. How about we go down to Macon? You won't run into anyone you know there. It'll be fun."

"That's a little far, don't you think." Macon was just under two hours south of where I lived. Bonnie was right -- I wouldn't run into anyone I knew but since I didn't get out much and I wasn't employed, the odds were slim I'd meet someone who knew me no matter where we went. Still, I doubted I could go.

Bonnie took a bit of her own salad. "Absolutely. Since I know that no one will notice you I think we could go shopping anywhere and you'd be fine. I'm just trying to help you."

I thought about it. I wanted to go. I did. The thought was just too terrifying. "I don't think so. I doubt I'll ever be ready."

Bonnie shrugged and took a sip of her half-and-half tea. "We'll see."

Five days later Autumn went shopping.

Chapter 9

Standing in front of the kitchen sink I popped two aspirin, paused, and then took a third. I had gone to bed the night before with a headache and it had grown stronger overnight. I had the lights off; my head hurt too much to keep them on. I turned on the tap, grabbed a clean glass from the dishwasher, and took a long sip, washing down the aspirin. They would help. I should have taken some the night before.

I sat in the dark living room, waiting for my headache to subside. I turned my head, left, right, then left again, wincing when my neck cracked. That seemed to ease the pain I was feeling but only momentarily. I shut my eyes, waiting for the aspirin to kick in and my headache to wane. I groaned when my phone rang.

I glanced at the number on my phone. I didn't recognize it or the area code of the number that was calling. Who did I know in area code 251? Where was area code 251? I wasn't expecting a call and since I didn't recognize the number, I hit decline, sending the caller to voice mail. If it was important, they'd leave a message. I had more important things on my mind. I wasn't working and Bonnie was coming over; it was time to go tan again and then we were going to the mall. Only this time it would be different. I'd be going as Autumn.

I had protested. I had wailed, fighting every logical point Bonnie made with an emotional response that didn't quite score the same points Bonnie's did. If we were on opposite sides of a televised debate, Bonnie would have won. Point and weaker counterpoint.

I waited twenty minutes before my headache started to subside before moving into the bathroom. I stood in front of the mirror again, looking at my darkening skin. My arms looked better, but it was the faint triangles around my nipples that had me infatuated. We'd been to the tanning booth twice now and both times I'd worn Bonnie's tiny bikini. I had, as I had told Bonnie I would, ordered my own but it hadn't been delivered yet. While Bonnie's was yellow, the two-piece bathing suit I had ordered was a deep plum colored dotted with tiny white hearts. I couldn't wait to wear it.

My phone rang again from the same unrecognized number. As before they didn't leave a message. I blocked the contact. Problem solved. I glanced at the time on the phone; I had to get ready. I was going shopping. Well, Autumn was. I'll admit I was nervous, but I was looking forward to it as well. I still wasn't sure how Bonnie had convinced me, some argument about how much I trusted her finally winning me over. I knew my addled mind had trusted her, had even hired her long ago at a meeting I couldn't remotely recall, so if she could be trusted then I had to trust her. Isn't that how it worked?

"Trust me," she'd said. "Nobody will know and if anyone suspects, we'll bug out and go straight home."

Finally, I consented causing her to jump up and down, clapping her hands, and squealing happily. "Goodie!"

I began getting ready. It took women a long time to prepare to go out. It took a cross-dresser even longer. Women had a natural beauty about them, a gentle softness that seemed to make them exude some hidden confidence. As a man, dressing as a woman, that had to be faked by makeup and an attention to detail that had made me good at the job I had hated. I hadn't cared about the job, but I was good at it. I'd be good at being a secretary, too.

I started with my breast forms. This time I glued them on. They fit easily in the cups of my bra but when I wanted the illusion to be its best, I went full tilt. I applied my medical glue to my freshly shaved chest and added another layer to the back of my breast forms. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, admiring my tan lines, waiting for the glue to become tacky to the touch. I ran my finger along the lighter line on my skin, smiling as I did. Who knew tan lines could be so cool?

With the glue sticky, I placed one breast form over my left nipple, holding it firmly, waiting for the glue to set. I pulled my hand away, feeling the weight of the silicone breast pulling downward against my skin. I repeated the process with the other form, leaving me standing there with a pair of breasts. I grabbed some concealer and began the process of blending the ends of the breast forms against my skin, first smoothing the form into place, working out any folds or wrinkles and then coloring both the breast forms and my skin until the two blended together. The seams were visible but only barely.

I put on my favorite bra. I'm sure every woman has one and while not a woman I had my favorite too. It was a deep blue, darker than the ocean lined with a trio of black stripes that followed the gentle curve of the cup. It had lace scalloping along the top and a tiny black bow stitched between the cups. I loved it. I put on the bra and then the matching thong panties.

I did my makeup next, getting it perfect. Concealing blemishes and shading my eyes and cheeks to give myself a refined, feminine look. I didn't do my makeup too dramatically. That would be for clubbing or out on the town. No, for simple shopping in the middle of the day I went subtle and subdued but still enough to show I was all woman.

Pantyhose came next. I had shaved my legs not an hour earlier, but years of experimentation had shown that I could hide any imperfections with stockings, faint flaws that would be noticeable on bare skin and creating my illusion required a focus on the tiny, imperceptible details. Bonnie had been helping me, showing me how to move my hands when I spoke, or how to stand and sit that weren't blatantly masculine. The details in my outfit were every bit as important as the details in my movements. All the pieces, working together, created Autumn, keeping George hidden and, more importantly, undiscovered.

I dug through the closet, deciding what to wear. The first time Bonnie and I were going to go shopping she had selected a jean skirt and this time I did the same. It was casual and comfortable and the one I chose was a little shorter than that first one. The skirt stopped well above my knees. I liked how they fit, and I loved the little unicorn stitched on the back pocket. I donned a cream-colored blouse, buttoning it in place. I tucked the blouse into the skirt and grabbed a thin lime-green belt, fishing it through the belt loops before fastening it in place.

I heard the doorbell and suddenly felt a rising tide of nervousness. Getting dressed was easy; facing the world was much harder. The doorbell rang again.

"Hi," I said, finally reaching the door to let Bonnie in.

She regarded me, "You look good."

"Thanks," I said.

"Ready to go?" She said, still looking me up and down. Was she looking for clues that would give me away? I felt like an insect pinned to a corkboard.

"No. Not really."

She took my hand, "You'll be fine. I promise."

I finished getting ready, putting on my cork wedges and grabbing one of my many purses. I stuffed in some lipstick and my eyeshadow, a bit of the concealer I wore and a tube of mascara. I could repair my face if something happened to cause my real self to show through. I paused and threw a bottle of aspirin in the purse as well, fearing my headache wasn't quite done with me.

Bonnie was still standing at the front door. "You really do look good, Autumn," she said. She was back to using the name she'd given me. "Do you have your bathing suit."

I had the yellow bikini in my purse next to my lipstick and mascara and my wallet containing the debit card with Autumn's name on it. When that had arrived, three days after ordering it, I'd sat on my couch, holding it in my hand, and running my fingers over the raised letters like a blind woman not only reading braille but finally understanding it. I had held the card to the light, turning it over and back to the front, taking in the name Autumn McNeill. Or maybe Ms. McNeill like I'd always imagined when playing out my secretary delusions. Just seeing that card had somehow lifted my mood even though I had not realized my mood needed elevating.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm all set."

"Do you have an extra tampon in your purse?" She was laughing as she said it.

"No. Why would I?"

She laughed even harder. "All women carry an extra tampon in their purse, Autumn. You never know when you'll need it for yourself or someone else."

The male part of me, the part that I was used to most of all, asked, "How could someone else need it if all women already have one?"

"Emergencies, Autumn. Here," she opened her beach bag, the one with the happy sun and the blue Adirondack chair and pulled out a trio of tampons. "Put these in your purse."

I grabbed the paper wrapped sticks and put them in my purse next to my aspiring, my makeup and the wallet holding the credit card in Autumn's name. Closing my purse Bonnie beamed, "Good. Now let's get going."

She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my house. She stood next to me as I locked the door, chatting about how much fun we were going to have. "Have you ever sent something you ordered back?" Bonnie asked as we walked towards her silver Explorer.

"Sometimes," I said, climbing into her SUV. "Mostly if I order something and it doesn't fit, I just throw it away."

She flashed me a look with wide eyes and a tremor of her head. "Why not send stuff back?"

"It's just easier," I said and left it at that. Bonnie was backing down my driveway now. She put the Explorer in gear and then started driving away. I looked in the side-view mirror, watching my house getting smaller and smaller. What was I thinking? How could I go out dressed as I was? The sun was up, rising in the sky. There were no clouds, only a pristine blue backdrop stared at me as if the universe wanted nothing to block the worlds view of the freak in a dress. I felt my legs start to shake and my hands ball into tight little fists. "I can't do this."

"Don't be silly. You want to do this, and it'll be fun."

"Do you promise?" Was that weak little voice my own?

"I promise."

That didn't settle my nerves, but it gave me something to focus on. My house was a distant memory, replaced by the thought of what was to come. Bonnie kept asking me about my online shopping, telling me how much more enjoyable it was to discover something new, to find that it fits, and to take it home. "It's like good sex," she said.

I gave a forced laugh but had to appreciate what Bonnie was doing. Her chatting distracted me from where we were going and how I was dressed. She could tell I was uncomfortable. "We're going tanning first," she said. "It'll be a good test. If their employee can't tell, then nobody will. Trust me, Autumn."

A noncommittal grunt was all I could give but it was enough. Bonnie turned on the radio, asking me what I wanted to listen to. When I didn't give her and answer she flipped through the stations finally setting on Roar by Katie Perry. "Pay attention, Mason," she said. "Just be yourself."

The song was upbeat and positive, and I found my foot, sitting in my too-tall wedge, bouncing to the beat or as close to the beat as I could get it. Either way it was close enough. Katie Perry was replaced by a trio of songs by Beyoncé before changing to Ed Sheeran and then Taylor Swift. Bonnie kept chatting, telling me not to worry as if that would make me not worry. The effort was appreciated, and I smiled when I felt it was appropriate to do so. Hopefully Bonnie appreciated me as much as I did her.

Exactly as Bonnie had predicted, Janice, the woman working at Suntans, didn't comment on my attire. If she noticed I was a man in a skirt, she didn't say anything. She just smiled, showed us to our own booths and asked us to call out if we needed anything. I thanked her in my girlie voice and Bonnie did as well.

After forty-five minutes I was certain my tan lines were even more pronounced. How much darker would they be when we finished our ten full treatments and why was I anxious to see that enticing contrast? Tanning wasn't exactly fun but the results sure were. Maybe that's why people did it. My arms did look better with some color on them. Bonnie had been right about that, but she was right about so many things. She seemed to know exactly what I needed and more than that she seemed to know exactly what to say to get me to go along with whatever she had planned. She knew me well, far better than I thought she should. It was nice to grow closer to someone that was so like me.

We left the strip mall, putting Suntans behind us. Bonnie once again turned on the radio, singing along with the songs she knew and butchering the ones she didn't by singing whatever word she thought would fit. It was fun and funny, and I laughed more than once.

She drove about twenty minutes before pulling into Green Fern Plaza, home of the Green Fern Mall. Four anchor stores set the points of the mall. Inside were about ninety shops that sold everything from shoes to books, dresses and makeup to hats and scarves. My mouth was dry, my throat tight. I ran my tongue over my cracked lips. My hands weren't exactly shaking but they were tingling in nervous anticipation. I wasn't sure I could do it, but Janice had been oblivious, why should I expect anything different. Hadn't Bonnie said that most people were only concerned with themselves? Why would anyone notice me?

"You can do this, Autumn. And it'll be fun. Better than sex."

It had been far too long since I'd had that experience, so I just smiled and said, "okay." I reached down and opened the door. So far so good. I pushed the door open. Nobody screamed or laughed or pointed or mocked. It was a great start. I stepped from Bonnie's Jeep and slammed the door shut. I jumped when Bonnie set the alarm, locking me away from that safe haven. I knew she'd let me back in if I pushed the issue, but by setting the alarm she let me know that we were committed.

With my purse draped over one arm I followed Bonnie across the parking lot. My eyes took in everything from the light blue of the sky to the deep green of the grass. I could see discarded soda cans littering the parking lot. I spotted a used diaper folded and flattened on the ground. The colors were vivid and far too bright.

I heard cars in the distance, racing to points unknown. I head a dog barking at something I couldn't see. I hear a car alarm blaring, pausing just long enough to think it was done, before it started shouting again, an annoying braying that was a cross between a siren and a nightmare. I heard Bonnie chatting, but couldn't focus on her words. My eyes were locked on the door leading into a Dillard's. They had nice clothes; I think I had a dress or two back home that I'd bought from their online store.

"You're doing great," Bonnie said, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze.

Her voice was far too loud. The siren behind us was too loud. The dog barking was too loud. It was all too much. I felt like a deaf man that was finally hearing for the first time and not finding a way to turn off the sounds that I'd never heard before. I flexed my hands into fists, let out a long, noisy breath, and then thanked Bonnie for her kind words.

She flashed me a smile, squeezed my arm again, and led me into the mall.

The store was far too bright. It felt like there was a spotlight on me, showing me to be a fraud. "Look," the overly lit store seemed to scream, "look at the sissy in a skirt." My throat tightened forcing a cough from my mouth. I felt hot and cold, goosebumps raced down my spine. I felt my hands shaking in nervous fear. I was an insect in a jar, a smear on a slide being observed by some mad scientist through a microscope, I was a monkey in a cage. It was all too real.

Bonnie stood next to me, pushing her shoulder into mine, "You're fine, Autumn. Look around, the place is mostly deserted."

Breathing through my mouth I glanced around the store. I saw two older women looking at perfume with an attractive woman attending to them. To my left I saw a man in jeans and a dirty t-shirt walking away, his head held low, oblivious to what was around him. Off in the distance I saw a woman pushing stroller while looking at a collection of Michael Kors purses. She, like the man walking away, seemed lost in her own world. Bonnie was right, nobody was paying attention to me. "I can do this," I whispered, more to myself than to Bonnie.

She heard me anyway, "duh. Come one."

She took my hand and yanked me after her.

We started something better than sex. I lost count of the number of hours I spent trying on clothes, sometimes with the intention of buying them and occasionally just to see how something would look. I tried on skirts that were frumpy and some so short that my panties were visible as I stood motionless in front of the changing room mirror. I tried on blouses and skirts, shoes and earrings. We went from store to store to store, from changing room to changing room. My arms were full, lugging my purchases.

I bought three dresses including one tiny little thing that hugged my fake breasts and just barely covered my ass. It was the epitome of a little black dress and I loved it. Bonnie had squealed when I came out of the dressing room, telling me that I'd have to fight to keep the men off me. I smiled at that. Not that I wanted men to come onto me, far from it, but because at that moment, by the way Bonnie acted and the words she chose, she saw me as a woman and nothing more. I loved her for that.