Darren's New Position in the Office    by Prim

Darren Parsons had never felt so embarrassed. He'd been in his new job since ten o'clock this morning, and three hours later he was being dressed in women's clothes by this Vicky Robsleigh, the powerful superior woman who had interviewed him alongside the boss. "You have to look supremely neat for your position," she declared as she fastened the cuffs of the bottle green blouse she was putting onto him. "This isn't some half-important job you're doing, sunshine: this is Mister Rodney Mason you're going to be servicing, the head of World Class Textiles." Darren stood with a glum expression as she fastened his blouse ribbons into a plush bow at his throat so that the ends hung fetchingly over the bust made by the breast-forms he had to wear. It was one thing to be made to dress as a girl secretary, with skimpy lingerie and nylon stockings, but ten times worse when he realised the clothes were making him horny. If Vicky saw that, he was in bother. "Have your nails dried yet?" she demanded. Darren showed her his emerald nails. "Hmm. Lift your head. Look this way." He had to submit to having his hair brushed through. God, this was so embarrassing, this pageboy bob the company hairdresser had given him. How was he to show his face to his mates in the bar like this? "Stand up, hands holding your thighs; move your knees to one side; chin up, make a kiss. Hmm, not bad." She took one of his hands and squirted a hint of eau de cologne onto his pulse point, then the other, followed by under each ear. Fuck, he was going to smell like a girl! Then the door opened. "Is my secretary ready?" came the boom of Rod Mason's voice. "Shew me." He came up close with amazement all over his face. "Mmm, not bad at all. In fact fucking nice." He took both Darren's hands and held his arms out to the sides to get a full view: black patent boots, black mini, shiny blouse and the cutest cherubic face. Just the way he liked them. "We're calling her Darlene, aren't we?" said Vicky, "but there's something you should know about your chick with a dick, sir." The boss paused, expecting a blow. "She likes being dressed, the little fag. She's got a hard-on." Rod Mason brightened. "Well let's see if she likes getting laid too," and the two of them lifted a startled Darren off his feet and onto his back across the desk. "Wha- ? Hey! Oh my God, stoppit! STOP!" Darren found his boots held wide apart and right back, the better to present his ass to the boss's gelled finger. He did his utmost to wriggle free of Vicky's grip, or to move his ass-hole out of range of that stiffening cock that had sprung into view from the boss's trousers. But looking down over his pussy bow and emerald green breasts only made him stiffer and more agitated in his groin. He was going to be held down and fucked, right here on the desk. He squeaked as the huge knob planted itself in the cup of his ass, then pushed inside, then rammed home with a sluck of jelly. Pull - push - pull - push. Ohhh! Mister Mason was having sex with him, lusting over him, driving into him. So this is what it was like for women as a huge, long dick had its way inside them. He looked down, at his own straining cock pointing up at him, just in time to see it start its giddy climax, then a string of juicy squirts as his cum shot in long threads of female pleasure up the front of his blouse and its lovely bow of emerald satin. The front of his office blouses were going to get a lot of anointing while he was lying in his new position for Mister Mason.

BACK