The Secretary Experience

"Well you need one."

"Why?"

She shushed me. I sat there, my hands folded in my lap, fidgeting under Bonnie's gaze. She was scrutinizing me, studying me like a middle-school student studies a frog splayed wide on a dissection board. Her face still held a lovely smile and her eyes didn't show disgust or disdain. I could read fascination, awe and bewilderment on her face. There wasn't anything negative that I could see.

I opened my mouth to speak but she shushed me again. I shushed.

"Autumn," she declared. "Autumn McNeill." She held out one hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Autumn."

It was a lovely name. A beautifully feminine name and I liked the way Bonnie said it without any animosity at all. I took Bonnie's hand and when I shook it Bonnie's smile somehow became even larger.

"Autumn," I said, tasting the name for the first time. It sounded just as delightful when I said it and having a name made me feel a tad less defensive, a bit less scared. "Autumn," I repeated. The third time made Bonnie laugh.

"You look great, Autumn, but you're right, we can't go shopping with you dressed like that."

My smile fell. What did she see? What was I doing wrong?

Bonnie laughed again, "I'm far too underdressed," she said. "You'll have to change."

I looked down at my pinstripe blazer fastened just below my breasts. "Okay," I said, then, "No, I'm not going shopping. I can't go out like this."

"I know," Bonnie agreed, "I'd look out of place next to you."

"No, I can't go shopping."

"Autumn," she said, using my new name with ease, like she'd calling me that since the day we'd met. That day I no longer remember. "I promise you that nobody, and I mean nobody would notice anything out of place. You look like a professional businesswoman," she giggled, "a secretary, and I can't wait to hear about that. Now tell me, honestly, have you never thought of going out dressed as you are?"

"I've thought about it a lot." There was no denying it. "I've thought about getting a job dressed like this."

"As a secretary?" Again, I was amazed at how accepting she was. There was nothing derogatory or derisive in her words and her tone was one of bemused interest tinged with wonder. Bonnie was a friend being a friend. It was at that moment that I knew we were friends.

I nodded, too afraid of what I'd say.

She stood up and took my hand, "Come on," she said, pulling me after her. "Let's scope out your closet."

"Why?"

"You need to change. We're going shopping."

Chapter 6

What's that saying? In for a penny, in for a pound. I guess I was in. Bonnie grabbed my hand and pulled me to my closet, my heels noisily slapping the tiles as we raced from the kitchen. She'd seen what I had hanging once when I'd absentmindedly given her the tour of my house. Now she was going to see everything. Did it matter anymore with how I was dressed? No, I guess it didn't.

She raced into my closet, yanking me after her. She let go of my hand to turn on the closet light. She stood there, taking in my skirts and my blouses and my dresses. She ran her hand over everything, "Oh, this is nice," she'd say, or, "this is a little slutty; I love it." She pulled the hanger holding a long, sexy dress that had strips of fabric alternating between equally long strips of nothing, "Oh, now this is sexy," she said. "You can't wear panties with this, can you?"

I shook my head, too nervous to speak.

She pawed through my clothes, pulling some dresses down to hold them against her body. She cooed at some and laughed at others. "God, Autumn, you have more clothes than I do. And you're such a girly-girl," she said, adding, "there's not a single pair of pants to be found."

I didn't bother reminding her that I was a very wealthy man. And that I preferred skirts and dresses to slacks and jeans was evident as well. My closet gave that away. It revealed so many secrets.

She picked up a simple jean skirt. "Here, put this on." She waited until I grabbed the skirt before returning to my clothing. I opened my mouth to protest and then stopped. She was having fun and truthfully, so was I. I had taken a huge step revealing myself to Bonnie dressed how I longed to dress and it seemed like I was going to be taking a far greater one, but the way Bonnie had reacted and the absolute certainty that I wouldn't be discovered had reignited a fire in me. I did eventually want to go in public dressed as a woman and Bonnie had been right when she said it would be easier with a coconspirator. Having a shield with me would make it far easier to hide what I really was. Bonnie was to be my beard.

I stepped from the closet and returned a moment later wearing the jean skirt. It was shorter than the one I'd removed, ending just below the tops of my stockings. Bonnie was still searching my closet, pushing one hanger aside to see what was revealed only to push the next one further along in an ever-expanding chain of discarded choices. She settled on a long-sleeved blue and white striped blouse. She held it to me, "put this on, too."

Once again, I left the closet to change what I was wearing. I removed my blazer and my work blouse and donned the striped shirt Bonnie had given me. I'd worn the same combination before. I returned to Bonnie's side. She was crouched down now, looking at my shoes. She picked up the pair that had the biggest heel, they were hooker shoes. That was the best way to describe them. They had a nine-inch heel with a three-inch platform. They were bright red with three little straps across the top that attached to three golden buckles. "Can you walk in these?"

"Barely," I admitted, a little wry grin on my face.

She laughed at that and put them down. "I'll have to see that one day." She looked at me, tilted her head, and grabbed a pair of brown open-toed heels that laced up the front. They had an opening in the back revealing the heel of my foot. They had one-inch platform and a four-inch solid heel made of bamboo. They were my favorite wedges and they went with my jean skirt perfectly. Bonnie had a good sense of style. "Here," she said.

I swapped out my black heels for the wedges.

"That's better," Bonnie said. "That's a much more casual look."

She pulled me from the closet and stood next to me, studying how we looked side by side. She was wearing frayed jeans with a hole in both knees and a black, untucked shirt that was just a tad shorter than the jean skirt I was now wearing. Side by side we looked like two women getting ready to go have brunch. Bonnie shook her head, "You look good, Autumn."

I beamed at the praise. And blushed at the same time.

"Seriously. I can see a few things," she said causing my face to fall, "but that's because I know to look. If I didn't know any better, God, you look just like a woman."

"Thanks."

"You don't sound like one though."

I raised the timbre to my voice and dropped the volume, "how's this?"

I watched her nod in the mirror. "Better." She laughed then. "YouTube?"

I shrugged and smiled and left it at that. "A woman has her secrets," I said in my normal voice. I switched my tone again, "does it help?"

"Yes."

"Good."

Staring at me in the mirror, Bonnie said, "do you have any perfume?"

I laughed and opened another drawer between the sinks. Bonnie shook her head and began pawing through the nine bottles of perfume and eau-de-parfums and eau-de-toilettes I had stashed away. She pulled the cap off them all, sniffing them. "I like this one," she said, spraying her neck and wrists. "Which one is your favorite." When I hesitated, Bonnie flashed me a look that told me to stop being silly. "All women have a favorite scent."

Did they? I wasn't sure about that. I reached into the drawer and pulled out a pink square bottle that had a dark green applique showing the name. It was Bloom by Gucci. "This one," I admitted. I handed the bottle to Bonnie who shook her head and handed it back. I took the hint and opened the bottle. I aped Bonnie's movements, adding the fragrance to my neck and wrists.

"Just like a girl," she said, laughing.

I put the cap on and returned the perfume to the drawer.

"Okay," Bonnie said. "Grab a purse and let's go."

Standing next to me she felt me stiffen. Intellectually I knew we were going to go shopping and I was looking forward to it, but fear and habit were hard to overcome. I'd kept this part of myself hidden for so long, since I first tried on that little black dress hanging in my mother's closet, that the reality of overturning my history wasn't easy to overcome. I wanted to, I did, but I didn't want to almost as much. Maybe a little bit more. "I'm not sure," I said in my normal voice. "I'm not sure I can."

Bonnie put her hand on my wrist. I felt her toying with the trio of bracelets that decorated my arm. "Trust me, Autumn," she said, watching me in the mirror, her eyes locked on my reflection. "Nobody will know and if someone were to figure it out would that be the end of the world? No," she said, not giving me time to answer. "Most people will see exactly what they expect to see. You're a lovely woman and that's the image you'll present to the world and so that's what people will see. People are so self-absorbed that they won't even notice you unless you give them a reason to and trust me, there is no reason for anyone to see anything but what you show them." She considered my reflection. "And with the casts, people will notice them more than anything."

As far as pep-talks go, that was a pretty good one. Still, I hesitated. I licked my lips, tasting my lip gloss. I felt the wedges on my feet and how they made my calves sting in a way that was both pleasant and unpleasant. I felt the stockings on my denuded legs. I felt the hem of my skirt tickling my thighs. I felt Bonnie's hand on my arm and how my bracelets moved under her touch. I felt the cloying heat of the room and the huge goosebumps on my skin. Everything was too bright and too loud. Everything was far too real. I reached forward to grab the edge of the sink. "I don't know," I said.

"Okay. How about we just go for a drive. Baby steps."

That sounded better but still frightening. It was a big enough step just showing myself dressed to another person. Since day one I'd kept my secret, or at least I thought I had. Maybe my mother did know and maybe she didn't. In my mind I was sure she was unaware of my frequent trips into her closet and maybe she had noticed those red satin panties had gone missing, having taken up residence in my own dresser. I wore those everywhere. Once, just because I thought it would be fun, I wore those red panties underneath my Boy Scout uniform at one of our weekly meetings. It was such an amazing thrill to be wearing panties at a meeting that emphasized the things men and boys did from camping and fishing to rowing and woodworking. Not that women couldn't do those things but during my adolescent years those actions were considered things that boys did. Wearing panties was something boys simply did not do and doing it sent chills down my spine.

I'd kept my secret, revealing it to nobody until one lapse had changed that. Yes, I had fantasies but just because one had a fantasy did not mean one wanted to act it out. There were countless videos I've watched on the internet when my ardor was high and my body in need. Videos that linked to other, darker, scarier things. Just because I would sometimes masturbate to some video did not mean I wanted to act out what I was watching. Fantasies did not have to become reality to be good. Sometimes fantasies were best kept in the world of fantasy.

"Autumn?"

I raised my head and looked at Bonnie. She was still holding my arm, squeezing it now to offer support. I could barely feel it there under my cast but the effort was appreciated. I shook my head and that was all I could do. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I felt trapped like an opossum that had just received a fright.

Bonnie read my face, "okay. How about you change while I make us lunch."

I nodded.

Bonnie let go of my arm and left the bathroom. If she was disappointed, she did not let it show. I heard her in the kitchen, moving about, opening the refrigerator door before shutting it again. I heard a pot hit the stove. I didn't know what she was making, and I didn't care. I could only stand at my bathroom sink, my hands digging into the cold marble, as my breathing slowed with all the speed of a glacier. Bonnie called out to me a few times, making sure I was okay. I was finally able to call back after her third inquiry. "I'm fine."

I moved into the bedroom and glanced at my pinstripe suit lying on the bed. I looked at my khaki shorts and discarded pink t-shirt sitting in a ball at the foot of my bed. I picked up the shorts and thought about putting them back on. Bonnie had asked me to change and that sounded appealing but wearing my skirt and blouse was just as enticing and I was more comfortable dressed how I wanted to dress. My discomfort came from the idea of showing someone else what I'd long kept hidden. Bonnie had seen me; did I really need to change?

I dropped the shorts and moved into the kitchen. Bonnie smiled when she saw how I was dressed. Or maybe she smiled at me, seeing that I wasn't rendered catatonic from fear.

"Grilled cheese okay?"

"Yeah," I answered with a nod. "Sorry." I took a seat, smoothing my skirt as I did.

Bonnie made a guttural grunt, "don't be silly. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She smiled, "we can always go shopping later."

"I don't think so."

Her smile turned into a laugh. "Silly girl." She turned back to the stove, flipping the two sandwiches in the pan one after the other. I sat at my little black table and watched as Bonnie cooked. She grabbed two glasses from the cabinets and filled them, first with ice from the refrigerator door and then with water from the tap. She set the glasses on the table, one in front of me. I thanked her and took a sip.

Bonnie finished making our sandwiches. We sat opposite each other, eating our grilled cheese sandwiches and sipping our water. Bonnie watched me eat, correcting little movements that might give me away. "Not like that, Autumn," she said. "Take smaller bites." She guided me through the small meal, telling me to sit up straighter, "men hunch over," she said, "we women sit proud, Autumn." I wasn't sure if that was true, but I took delight in what she was telling me. I was having fun. "Don't you dare drink all of that at once. Autumn, sip it, don't chug it."

After lunch, I cleaned up. Bonnie sat at the kitchen table commenting on how I moved. I listened intently when she said to take more deliberate motions. "You're doing great, Autumn," she said. She said my name, my new name, far too often for it to be accidental. I think I heard her call me by the name she'd given me more during that one meal than all of the times I'd heard her call me George since we met.

"Of course, silly girl," she said when I asked her about it. "You need to get used to it. If I call you Autumn while we're out, you need to know I mean you."

I nodded at that. "Okay."

With the kitchen clean, Bonnie had me walk in front of her, giving me further pointers. She had me sit and smiled when I smoothed my little jean skirt. She scolded me when I brought one ankle up to set it on my knee, telling me that women "don't make it a habit to flash their panties, Autumn." She showed me how to sit; how to move; how to walk; how to hold my hands. She practiced with me, always smiling. She was having fun with her new girlfriend and I was having fun with her. In the back of my mind I knew what she was doing, that she was training me for my public debut. It was something I wanted and so I listened intently to every critique, taking them to heart, and savoring every bit of praise, feeling proud when she told me how good I was doing.

We chatted about fashion and what was happening on the Jersey Shore. She laughed when I admitted that I didn't watch The Bachelorette and scolded me for it. "You should," she said, laughing even more. She made sure I used me higher, feminine voice. "It'll have to be second nature, Autumn," she informed me. "You don't want to slip up at the wrong time. How embarrassing would it be if someone mistook you for a man?"

She wasn't being insulting. She was having a blast and the truth of it was -- so was I. That time with Bonnie was the most I'd ever felt like a woman. During those three hours after I did the dishes I felt like I had always wanted to feel Going to work had been a chore; being me with Bonnie felt heavenly. We chatted while I sipped water. I made tea for Bonnie, moving as gracefully as I could. I was aware of every motion my hands made. I focused on walking as Bonnie had directed me, adding a subtle sway to my hips. "You want nothing to give you away," she said.

She was heavy with praise. "You're doing great, Autumn." And she was heavy with my lovely new name. I loved the name she gave me. I liked saying it, but I liked hearing Bonnie say it more. She began or ended most sentences with my new name. She talked about how great it would be when we could go shopping. I still balked at the idea though my protests didn't deter Bonnie in the slightest. I knew she was training me for that inevitability, but intellect, instinct, and self-preservation can trump wants with ease.

"I have an idea."

"Oh?" I asked. We were sitting on the couch where I was practicing smoothing my skirt, taking a seat, and crossing my legs to sit exactly as Bonnie was sitting, with one knee over the other, my legs perfectly closed, my panties deliberately concealed. The skirt was short enough that the lacy tip of my stockings was just peeking out of my skirt, but my panties were hidden. As they should be.

Bonnie stood up. "Come on," she said, leading me to my computer.

I followed her into my den. "What's your idea."

"My niece, Haley, went off to college last year. She needed a credit card for emergencies. My brother got a secondary card added to his account in her name."

I felt my lips rise in a smile, liking her idea. Maybe I'd never use a credit card in Autumn's name, but it would be so very fun to see one. Bonnie and I spent about ten minutes adding Autumn as an authorized user to my bank account and ordering her a debit card to my house. Just the idea of ordering my dresses online as Autumn instead of George set my nerve-endings abuzz. "That was fun," I admitted.

"Wait until you use it."

I laughed, "Oh, I'm going to order something the second it arrives."

Bonnie snorted, "my ass. You'll use it at the mall."

Sitting at the computer, Bonnie and I browsed the websites I had saved over the years. We looked at fashions from about two dozen sites. I'd point out things I liked while Bonnie did the same. We overlapped quite frequently though when Bonnie would point out a handsome pantsuit I'd shrug noncommittedly. Bonnie would laugh at that, "God, Autumn, you really are a girl."

I shrugged and smiled, happy with her words.

"Autumn, I've got to get home," Bonnie said. "This was fun."

"It was."

"I'm glad. Now you can dress however you want when I come over." She paused, forcing me to glance away from the computer screen. "Um, Autumn," she said, still using my new name in just about every sentence. She grabbed my hands and spun my chair around so that she could look at me. Her eyes clouded over and her lips quivered. Something was on her mind, causing the smile she'd been wearing to disappear.

I frowned. "Um, Bonnie?"

"I can't work for you anymore."

I reached up to squeeze her hands. The seriousness of her tone gave me pause. "Why?"

Tilting her head, she said, "because it wouldn't be right."

I thought about what she was telling me. She saw it as well as I did. Bonnie and I were friends now. She was no longer an employee, or she no longer could be. She couldn't accept my money because of it. "Okay," I said, understanding where she was coming from. I gave her hands another squeeze. "I'll still see you tomorrow, right?"