Chapter 4

When Paul and his crew returned from the gym Monday morning, he called to me that he had a present for me. I walked out into the living as he was removing a vile of amber liquid from his gym bag and syringe. As he placed the needle into the vile and drew a large amount of the liquid into the syringe, he told me to turn around which I did. I was wearing tiny thong panties and he rubbed my bottom with a little alcohol swab which made me squeal from the sudden cold and without warning pushed the needle into my bottom and injected the liquid. He explained that these were vitamin shots provided by “The Doctor” - a shady weird man that hung out at the gym and provided supplements to many of the body builders in the gym. I never really trusted the man – he gave me the creeps, but since I wasn’t a body builder he pretty much only leered at me when I was anywhere close

“I will give you two injections a day for the first three days, then one injection a day for the next three days and then every Monday, Wednesday and Friday with a special dose on Saturday.” Paul explained in response to my puzzled look.

Little did I realize at the time the concoction was The Doctor’s special recipe just for me with massive doses of HRT to make my body more girl-like with swelled hips and breasts, a supplement to counteract any negative affects for my already tiny penis and balls and an additive that would make me so horny that as Paul would tell me later “ ... I would suck the chrome off a trailer hitch”. The thing was I felt weird things happening to me after the second shot on that first day. My nipples got even more sensitive and my titties ached. My tiny penis would get hard if anyone looked at me and instead of being ordered to suck cock by the guys I was all over them when they walked in the door begging for their cocks – and each day it got worse...

After my week of “vacation” it was time to go back to work and was shocked when I opened my boxes of clothes to find none of my “regular” work clothes were here. All my obscenely tight skinny jeans and short shorts and of course all my “trap” outfits which I cannot wear to work (they are almost to indecent to wear to the clubs) were all I could find. I screamed for Paul who came ambling into the room where my boxes were stored. “Where are all my work clothes ... I can’t go to work in any of these?” I wailed hysterically as Paul entered the room.

“Don’t be such a fucking drama queen, you little faggot. You will just have to find something to wear here and we can go check the storage for the other boxes later” he replied calmly.

I chose a pair of linen shorts that were too short for work, but would have to do, a button down oxford and skinny tie and with my ankle boots I figured I could make it through the day and we can stop at Target on the way home to pick up a few more acceptable pieces until we could get to the storage building. Paul drove me to work and said he would be back to pick me up at the end of the day and I should be out at the street right after work. As the week progressed my outfits became more and more risque until on casual Friday I was dressed in a very short navy blue pleated skirt, white lace top thigh-high stockings with white 5” fuck me pumps and a sheer blouse that showed my white lace bra clearly. I was receiving a lot of attention from men in the building. After three weeks of progressively more daring attire being chosen by Paul and my casual Friday attire becoming practically obscene, I received a call from HR that they wanted to see me.

“I suppose you are wondering why you were called into the office today, Alex?” the HR representative said as she looked though a file I assumed was mine.

“Yes Miss Blakley. I have never been called here before.” I said with my legs demurely crossed, the tops of my stockings visible beneath the hem of my short skirt and my little lace panties on display.

“Well Alex, we have noticed the dramatic change in your attire recently, and although that is not the issue and we cannot comment on your choice of that attire – the fact that what you chose to wear at times does not meet the image of our City employees is troubling.” Miss Blakley stated flatly in her HR voice.

“I am sorry Miss Blakley” I stammered noticing her eyes were not meeting mine.

“We cannot tell you what to wear.” Miss Blakley continued, “But please try to be a little more ... ummmmm ... conservative in your choices. Thank you for stopping by”

And with that I was on my way back to my desk, noticing the men checking my legs and butt as I walked past. As I at at my desk trying to compose myself, one of our summer interns walked up and sat on the corner of my desk. Michael played football and was very well built and sure of himself. He had often made comments about my legs or butt, loud enough so I would hear.

“What’s up Michael?” I asked as my eyes saw the big grin on his face as he looked down at me. Michael handed me a folded paper and as I opened it and read I turned white as a ghost. I kept looking at the words on the paper and back into Michael’s eyes and shit-eating grin.

Mike:

I know you look at my legs and ass and it really turns me on to know you are. I noticed you too and if you want, bring this email to my desk and I will take you to the restroom and suck off that beautiful cock I know you have.

Alex I looked shocked and dismayed to see this email had come from my email account at the City.

“Michael, I didn’t send this ... I don’t know what ... this is some joke...” I stammered not knowing what to do.