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The Promotion

"One foot in front of the other, see?" Marta said. "You're a woman now, so sway those hips!" Kyle nervously smoothed the silky fabric of his red dress over his hip, still conscious of the panties and hose that lay underneath. "I'm afraid my shoes will fall off," he said softly. "Don't be," she said harshly. "Walk like a lady and you'll be fine." His face burned. He couldn't look his wife in the eye. "But they're open in the back…" "For God's sake. Can't you handle a simple pair of shoes? What d'ya want, training wheels?" "Yours have those little straps…" "Yes, but they're taller—oh, fine! I'll give you mine. Just learn to walk in low heels first, okay?

Kyle felt the heat of the wig's blonde tresses against his the back of his neck. He shook his head, the hair swirling into his face. This was too much. "What's wrong now?" Marta demanded. Kyle grabbed his neck. "I don't—" He gasped as his voice shot up in pitch. "—think I can do this." Marta smiled. "Good. The throat spray is working. You're almost ready." Eyes wide, he shook his head. "They'll never buy this, all those people you work with." Her manicured forefinger found his chin and lifted it. She held his gaze with her own. "Listen, sweetie. You've always had a pretty face. A little makeup, a wig, the right clothes—that's all it took to turn you into a woman. You're slim, you've got a nice figure. And now you've got the voice to match. What's there to worry about?" "I'm not a woman inside," he whispered. Her laugh frightened him. Marta glanced at her watch. "The hypnotist should be here soon. After he does his thing—" "Hypnotist?" Kyle felt his legs buckle. He sat down hard on the divan. "Oh, didn't I say? Whoops." She sat next to him. "Anyway, after Hal does his thing—" "Hal? Your ex-boyfriend? Since when—?" "Listen, missy." Marta gripped his arm painfully. "Don't you dare embarrass me. You tell Hal that you've always felt like a girl, but you're shy. Tell him you want to react naturally as a woman and be more outgoing. Tell him your name is 'Kay' and you want to answer to it like you've doing so your whole life. He can do that.

Kyle stared at the floor. "I don't get it." He crossed his legs at the knee. "All this just for some bet?" "Just some bet? My whole career is riding on this! If you're the first husband read, I'm out of a job. Is that what you want? You don't work, so we need that paycheck." "But—you're turning me into a woman!" Marta's grip tightened. "As far as I'm concerned, dear, you are a woman. You've been one since you so willingly took over the housework." "I lost my job…" "Yeah, and they might as well have confiscated your gonads along with the company car." Kyle slumped. What was the use? Marta released his arm and stroked his hair.

"Kay? I really need you to do this. If you're the best—you are the best. All the other husbands, they're drag queens next to you. When they've all been picked out, and the CEO can't tell you from the rest of us girls—then we win! And I get the promotion." She rubbed his back. "So it's not just 'some bet'. It's important." Kyle couldn't speak. He just nodded. Marta stood up. "C'mon, you need to practice. You'll be dancing tonight—with men, so don't try to lead, just follow. Be graceful… You're right, you'd better wear my shoes. Just—oh, just be a woman. Is that too much to ask?" Kyle sighed and took a few wobbly steps. "I'll try. I just don't feel very… feminine." "Then consider this: If we don't win, you're in heels 24/7, training for next time. I intend to make VP in five years and I won't let a little thing like cosmetic surgery get in my way. Get it?" He did.