Chapter 13 - Hiring Paris

The human resources secretary’s photo could likely be found in the dictionary right next to the definition of ‘Bimbo’. She had what would be a questionably dark tan in the summer, but in the winter was quite obviously fake. It really contrasted with her long platinum blonde hair. She was wearing an almost too tight pink blouse with a matching tight pink gingham skirt that barely came down to her mid-thigh. She had on towering heels that were at least six inches tall and included platforms under her toes, giving her an extra couple inches in height. Her nails were so long it looked like they’d prevent her from typing at all. The pink trend went beyond her clothes as her nails, lipstick, mascara, and blush were all pink.

She was even chewing gum and spoke in a mildly valley girl accent, “Hi! I’m Trixie Davenport the, like, secretary for human resources at K Edison Global. But, hee hee, I guess you knew that. I mean, not that my name is Trixie Davenport but, like, that I’m the secretary here. In human resources. At K Edison Global. Like, anyway I don’t recognize you and I’d remember any hottie working here, so who are you and do you have an appointment with someone here?”

It takes me several seconds to process not only how Trixie looks, but what exactly she’s saying. When I’ve got it straight in my head and know that my growing erection isn’t going to free itself from my panties, I bring my smile back up to full, nod, and say, “Hi, I’m Paris. Paris Beaufort. I have an appointment to see Ms. Birdie.”

Trixie opens an old school calendar planner and traces her long pink fingernail down the days until she comes to a perfectly printed line with my name on it. “Okee, I have you right here and you’re, like, right on time. Go you! I’ll let her know you’re here. You can have a seat right over there!”

Trixie points me to a small waiting area where I reluctantly move to sit down as gently as I can. Soon Rhea comes out and extends a hand, acting as if she’d never seen me before. “Good morning, Miss Beaufort, welcome to K Edison Global. I’m Mrs. Rhea Birdie, and I’ll be taking you through your hiring process. Please follow me back to my office.”

After a brief limp handshake, Rhea turns and walks back to her office. I stand up and follow quickly behind her. As soon as we enter her office, she pulls the blinds, closes and locks the door, and sets her phone to ‘Do Not Disturb’.

When she sits down Rhea actually smiles at me, making me realize I haven’t seen her smile until right now, “Paris, before we dig into everything, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. How did you come to have the name Paris. You can’t believe how fortuitous it is for us, for a man to have such a feminine first name.”

Inwardly, I wince. It’s the main reason I don’t tell people my first name as it almost always requires an explanation. “Well, as I’m sure you probably guessed, it comes down to family tradition. First, since a lot of people don’t seem to know, Paris has been a masculine name for as long as it’s been used. In more modern times there’s Paris Themmen the actor, Paris Michael Lenon the linebacker that played for the Lions, and Paris Beckett Brosnan the son of actor Pierce Bronsan. Most people, sadly, only associate it as a feminine name ever since that stupid hotel heiress became a TV star. Anyway, it’s one of four names that have been passed down in my family. Remi, Arvern, Ambian, and of course Paris. They’re all old Galic names. My father is Remi, and my two uncles are Avern and Ambian. Since Paris hadn’t been used in their generation…” I hold my hands out as if that’s the full explanation.

Rhea smiles and nods, evidently happy with the explanation. “Well, it works out perfectly for us. Let’s get all the normal hiring paperwork out of the way first.”

For the next hour Ms. Birdie and I go over a seemingly full ream of paperwork. Non-disclosure agreements, signing up for insurance, direct deposit, the hiring bonus, accepting of the employee handbook, agreeing to the set style standards, set up for my ID, and even agreeing to a bathroom policy. When it’s all said and done, I get to stand next to a blank area of wall while Rhea takes my picture and produces a laminated photo ID card. “You aren’t required to wear your ID card, though you’ll need it in the elevator to gain access to anything above the thirty third floor. I do recommend you clip it on for your first couple days so that people recognize you’re a new hire.”

After I clip the ID to my blouse we sit back down and Rhea produces a small pile of paperwork to show me. “These are the files I produced for you. I have a resume and cover letter. Here’s your work history. These are your professional references. These are your college transcripts from the University of Illinois Chicago. These are copies of your social security card, your driver’s license, and your passport.”

I look over everything and am impressed by the professional quality of it all. Especially the driver’s license and passport since I hadn’t given Ms. Birdie anything to work from and they already had photos of me. When I look up at her, she’s already guessed at my question. “Most of this I did. The areas that I couldn’t make, like your photos, I used an AI image generator. I think I got close enough to how you look now that it will fool anybody that glances at it. Of course, if they’re run in a full check, they’ll be found as fakes so don’t give them to anybody.”

I nod as I fold up the paperwork and put it into my purse, making a mental note to study it all when I get home. It’s doubtful that anybody will ask about these things and even more doubtful that they’d have these to check against, but it’s better safe than sorry.

Next came a crash course on being a secretary. Ms. Birdie kept reassuring me that I wouldn’t have to be perfect as Mr. Orpheus didn’t really care a lot about his secretary’s work, focusing more on the fact that she looked good outside of his office and performed well inside of his office. But for those passing by I still had to learn how to use their phone system, their computer system, the basics of their filing system, and even practice my typing with these nails. With the true secretarial work accomplished, we moved on to the specifics of being Mr. Orpheus’ secretary. A lot of this was re-treading what Grace and I had worked on. Walking with an exaggerated wiggle to my hips. Smiling more overtly, giggling and laughing far more than I normally would, touching people more when I talked to them, and of course utilizing my ‘pose’ of pushing my breasts and ass out. That pose alone was going to give me a sore back by the end of the day.

After Trixie delivered us some lunch, Rhea and I discussed my voice and conversational style. “Look, it’s a fine line you’re going to have to walk between talking like a valley girl and being a caricature of a valley girl. It’s what he’s attracted to, so it’s what you’ll have to mimic without seeming to be unable to do a professional job. I’d suggest you become friends with Trixie as she’s perfect at this. Mr. Orpheus has made many overtures to hire Trixie away from me. And then there’s your voice.”

I raise my eyebrows, surprised that she’d bring up my voice. “I thought I was sounding pretty good. I’ve been practicing all week and did this same voice for the play. By the end of that run, I’d used this voice so much that it took me a few days to fall back into my normal voice and it’s becoming that way now. What more do you want me to do?”

Rhea sits back and holds her hands up defensively, “Hold on there Paris, this isn’t a complaint. You actually have a better voice than I expected. Like your name, you are perfect for this. It’s just your pitch and your register. You’re speaking fairly high pitched for a man, but it still puts you at a contralto pitch for women. And when you speak, you’re speaking like a man, mainly from your chest. My husband does some voice work for a theater group and has helped people alter their voices and said that this would be difficult even for a professional. You’re changing not only the way you’ve spoken for your entire life, you’re trying to change the physical nature of your vocal cords.”

I nod slowly, understanding what she’s saying but not getting what she’s driving at. When she pulls the little tin out of her drawer, I get just a touch worried. “These should help. They’re little lozenges that you can suck on first thing in the morning and then later in the afternoon. They work at a couple things. First, they tighten up your vocal cords. So long as you don’t fight against it, it will raise your pitch. It’s not a miracle **** but it should pull you up from a contralto to a mezzo-soprano. The tightened vocal cords also helps the second thing, making you speak more from your head rather than your chest. Again, you simply have to not fight against it. Together, along with your already amazing feminine vocalization, should really make you sound like a woman. Not just a woman, but the type of woman that Mr. Orpheus goes after.”

I pull one of the purple lozenges out of the tin and look at it closely. “So, in other words, it will make me sound more like… Trixie? That more high-pitched girly voice?”

Rhea nods, seeing that I get it without her having to lay it out that directly. “Exactly.”

I go to put the lozenge in my mouth but stop and look at it again as I ask, “What about side effects? I can’t imagine there being a **** that does this and it not being on the market. Is this like being tested? Has it been banned? Does it give cancer?”

Rhea shakes her head, “No, it’s perfectly safe. It’s used quite a bit in southeast Asia where feminizing men for the sex trade is more popular. A variation of this has been used there for centuries and is completely plant based. Only in the last decade or so has a Thai **** company started producing it into this form and selling it internationally as a supplement. It really does have quite a bit of vitamin C. It’s used quite a bit in similar situations in Brazil and Portugal while in the US and Canada it’s being used in the theater and movie industry.”

Seeing no malice in Rhea’s eyes, I pop the lozenge in my mouth and start sucking on it. As I put the tin of lozenges in my purse Rhea adds, “Oh, and just so you know, the effect of them are cumulative. It doesn’t make your voice higher and higher, but the effect will last longer and longer the more you use it. According to my husband if you used it more than a couple times a day for a couple weeks, you could go without using it for several days without your voice reverting. But we shouldn’t have to go that long, and he says that even then, it does fully reverse. Eventually.”

When I look back up at Rhea, a thought occurs to me that I can’t help but ask about. “Pardon me for asking this, but if Mr. Orpheus wants Trixie, why didn’t you transfer her to him? I mean, I don’t know her, but it seems like she’s the kind of person that might actually enjoy working for a cretin like him.”

Rhea’s brow furrows in obvious anger or annoyance. “Look, Miss Davenport may come across as simple and innocent and silly, especially with how she dresses so sexually forward, but she’s the best executive assistant I’ve ever worked with. She has a master’s degree from The Kellogg School of Management at Northwestern University. She could easily work her way up our corporate ladder and into our executive team if she so desired but as she told me when I sat down and asked her about that directly, she enjoys helping someone in a way that only an executive assistant can. She doesn’t want the stress that comes with the executive life. So, where I’m interested in utilizing the vast skills she has, Mr. Orpheus would only want her as eye candy and as a sex toy. Do. Not. Disrespect. Her.”

I sit back, realizing I’d hit an obvious sore spot for Ms. Birdie, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. I’ll respect Trixie’s abilities, I promise.”

We talk a bit more for an hour or so until both I and Ms. Birdie feel comfortable that I can fit in and work as a foil for Mr. Orpheus. “You’re perfect for this Miss Beaufort. I think Mr. Orpheus won’t be able to keep his hands off you, which I’d normally hate and right now can’t wait for. I think so long as you act your part and don’t overstep by actually inviting any sexual advances yourself, you’ll do just wonderfully.”

With only an hour left in the normal business day, Rhea says it would be best to give me a quick tour of my floor. Then I’ll be able to come in and start a normal day tomorrow. We make our way back to the elevator and Rhea shows me how to use my ID to unlock it to the thirty fourth floor. When the doors slide open on my new work environment, the first thing I think of is Mad Men. The entire floor is designed with a Mid Century Modern vibe.

Everything had clean organic lines. The walls that aren’t glass from floor to ceiling are paneled in either walnut or teak. All of the wood furniture is some dark luxurious looking wood and doesn’t seem to be veneers, these look like solid wood desks and solid wood chairs. The leathers are all supple and deep. Every metal accent and piece of hardware that I can see is brass or some other polished warm metal. And the entire palette is desaturated and dark earth tones. It honestly feels like the men should be walking through here smoking pipes or cigarettes and the women should have beehive hairdos with bullet bras under their too-small blouses.

But outside of the design of the physical office, everything else is perfectly modern. All the men were wearing contemporary suits, and while the women might be a little more sexually forward than a normal office, they are still dressed in present day styles. The desks have desktop computers or laptops, people are on their cell phones, the lights are all LEDs.

Combined, the old school physical office and the modern people and technology is quite discombobulating, and I found myself continuously slowly scanning from side to side without looking at any one particular thing. Ms. Birdie slowly walks ahead of me, describing what we were going through. “This floor is a hodgepodge of Mergers and Acquisitions, Sales, and Marketing. Mr. Orpheus’ office is back and in the corner and he more or less runs this floor since the directors of both Sales and Marketing have their offices up on the thirty fifth floor. Oh!! Look out!!”

Looking back on it, it almost feels like our collision was predestined. At one moment I’m just marveling at the majesty of this office set up and the next I’m walking into a seeming brick wall. All of the **** of our collision seems to bounce back on me as he didn’t move a single inch while I flailed my arms for a moment, sending my purse flying across the hallway, before falling onto my well cushioned ass. The little plastic spikes bring a very feminine “ahh” pouring out of my lips as I look up. My glasses are barely perched on the tip of my nose as I see Mr. Orpheus for the first time in real life.