The new PA

Cynthia enters her apartment complex, exhaustion etched on her features after that fateful meeting with Mr. Nolan. Her mind was still processing everything that came after, down to how Paige at the reception looked at her with such confused disappointment. It wasn’t until she got a notification from Mrs. Crawford that she realised that she - or Cyril - had been ‘fired’, which was why everyone was acting the way they did.

“Yep, checks out,” she says, looking at her phone, noticing that her work email has been disconnected.

She heads straight for the mailbox, retrieving the parcel that awaits her with a mix of anticipation and anxiousness. The embossed company logo on the box confirms that this is a personal delivery from Mr. Nolan, confidential and exclusive.

With a deep breath, she carries the box upstairs, setting it down on the kitchen table. Before opening it, she takes a moment to shed the confines of her 'work clothes', revealing the delicate bralette and black lace panties underneath. She runs her fingers through her dishevelled hair, roughing it up to sit in a more feminine, tousled style. Chucking her male clothes into the hamper, she looks at her drained face in mild disgust, noting the sharpness of her jaw and subtle masculine features that betray her when there's no makeup.

‘God, I just look like a loser that dresses in women's underwear,” she thinks to herself, cupping her flat chest before getting properly relieved by the fortunate ample volume of her ass. They never did sit well in men's pants, always getting squished.

But here, it's more than at home. Her ample cheeks fill out the black lace panties almost too well. She had to get a hand in there to pull the fabric free from between her cheeks yet again. Feeling a sense of empowerment in her lingerie, Cynthia lifts the lid of the box, her eyes widening as she takes in the contents. This is her first ever ladies' officewear, carefully curated by Mr. Nolan to suit her new role as his personal assistant.

A lace high-neck blouse with intricate ruffle trim catches her eye first, the delicate fabric whispering promises of femininity and sophistication with cuffed sleeves. Next to it lies a chic, form-fitting blazer, its champagne hue a perfect complement to her darker tanned complexion. And at the bottom of the box, a tube skirt that makes her gasp in surprise. It's shorter than expected, a mere 14 inches in length, the shortest she's ever considered wearing in public.

Cynthia's mind races as she contemplates the radical transformation these clothes represent. She's always played it safe, conforming to societal norms and expectations safe for her more adventurous run. But now, as Mr. Nolan's new PA, this is something else.

Morning comes, and he thought of not going to work as Cyril dawns on Cynthia as she dabs a layer of blush on her face. Sitting by her vanity, a small mix of makeup products lay out in the open. She had never needed to put them on much at all, and after extensive YouTube tutorials and trials the night before, she's finally nailed a simple look.

It was the kind of look you get that's modest, with a hint of colour. Her lips were painted with a faint rouge gloss, and eyeliner intensified her gaze.

To try and look more apart from her boymode, Cynthia made sure to do her hair up very differently from the plain, slick backed style she uses when going about as her male self. Instead, she had her fringe sit neatly over her forehead, with loose strands of hair forming locks on either side of her face, framing it well. The rest of her dark, wavy hair was done up in a simple bun.

“Hmm, not too bad,” she remarks, noting how she looks just different enough from her male self, but anyone who looks into it might be able to figure it out.

After slipping into a pair of navy coloured high cut panties and its corresponding push up bra, Cynthia pulled a tanned pantyhose over her legs. Its sheer fabric caressed her freshly shaved frame, and cupped her ass in place. They also helped keep her clitty in check, providing an extra layer of support to keep her male parts secure lest she draws unwanted attention.

Her figure already looked more shapely in the mirror, and she couldn't help but be in awe with the reflection. Sure, she's dressed countless times before, but it was always for herself, and never really for the world. This time, it was for her career.

Slipping on her blouse, she buttoned it all the way up, scoffing at the idea that just yesterday a fully buttoned up top was not the look anyone asked for. The fabric was surprisingly soft, and ample flow in the arms. It had the quality of silk to it, no doubt by design given how the buttoned were definitely pearl.

Cynthia then picked up the skirt and placed it over her waist. In the mirror, the hem came to right below her mid thigh, which was rather a lot less than she expected! Slipping her legs into them, she did a bit of a hip wiggle to get the rest of the skirt past her ass before it came to its desired position, and with a bit of effort, zipped it up.

“Okay wow, this is gonna be tricky to walk in!” Cynthia says out loud as she takes a few delicate steps back and forth. Her legs were almost **** together with how fitting the skirt was, making it so smaller steps are required for movement. Putting on the blazer was easy, and her body fit like a glove in it. The cut of the blazer accentuates her waist and flares out at the hip, maximising a more feminine illusion which was a godsend.

Cynthia steps into a pair of sleek, black 2-inch heels, the height making her feel both powerful and precarious. She wobbles slightly as she adjusts to the unfamiliar weight and balance, but eventually finds her footing. With the heels securely fastened, she picks up her tote bag, hastily packing her wallet, phone, and water bottle into the roomy canvas. She's not used to carrying such a bag, but it's all she has for now. Despite owning a small selection of women’s clothes, she lacks many of the typical feminine accessories.

With a deep breath, Cynthia heads out the door, her heart pounding in her chest as she embarks on this new chapter. The morning sun casts long shadows on the sidewalk, and she can't help but feel like an imposter, a fraud in her borrowed woman's clothes. As she walks, she's hyper-aware of every gaze that lands on her, the weight of their stares making her skin prickle with anxiety.

Despite the revealing nature of her outfit, Cynthia notices that other women around her are dressed similarly, in skirts and heels that show off their legs. Yet, somehow, she still feels like she sticks out, like her feminine figure is on display for all to see. She tries to focus on their outfits, noting the way the fabric of their skirts hugs their curves, the confidence in their postures, and the way their heels click authoritatively on the pavement.

Cynthia's own steps are more tentative, her smaller stature and unfamiliarity with the heels causing her to take shorter, more cautious strides. She has to concentrate on keeping her balance, her hips swaying slightly as she compensates for the height. The movement helps to nudge her pelvis forward, giving her a more feminine silhouette, but she can't shake the fear that her little bulge might still be visible.

As she approaches the bus stop, Cynthia's nerves reach a fever pitch. She's not used to being this exposed, this ****. It’s one thing to wear booty shorts or a longer dress when out, but this feels like a whole new challenge that sends her mind reeling. But she's determined to push through, to prove to herself that she can navigate this new world as Cynthia, Mr. Nolan's personal assistant.

Cynthia steps onto the bus, her heart still racing from the initial exposure. She spots an empty pole and hurries to it, grasping it tightly as the vehicle lurches forward. Standing precariously, she tries to make herself as small as possible, hoping to avoid drawing any attention to herself. Her skirt swirls around her thighs, the fabric riding up with each bump in the road.

Just as she's starting to relax into the rhythm of the bus, a middle-aged gentleman rises from his seat, his strong frame and proud demeanor commanding attention. Cynthia's eyes widen as he approaches her, his intention clear: he's offering her his seat. Her face flushes a deep crimson, and she lets out a startled gasp at the unexpected gesture.

Regaining her composure, Cynthia tries her best to emulate a more feminine tone, her voice barely coming out as she mumbles a heartfelt "thank you." She accepts the offered seat with a tentative smile, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusts her skirt and tote bag. As she sits, she can't help but notice the way the fabric clings to her thighs, the constant motion of the bus causing it to ride up even higher.

Cynthia's arousal flares at the thought of the man seeing her as a woman, his kind gesture a potent aphrodisiac. She shifts slightly, trying to discreetly adjust the bulge that's begun to form. As the bus continues on its route, she realizes she'll need to keep her hand on the hem of her skirt at all times, the fabric threatening to reveal her secret at every turn.

A contradicting thought then arose. ‘Wait, why am I getting excited by this?’ she muses. Despite loving to crossdress and trying to pass as a woman, Cynthia had never truly had any sexual desires and mainly dressed up as a form of self expression. This moment confused her, as she focused on trying to let herself settle.

Cynthia's heart hammered in her chest as she walked through the main glass doors and approached the front desk, her legs trembling. The receptionist, a man she didn't recognize, looked up from the phone and asked for her purpose of visit in a bland, professional tone. She took a deep breath, mustering every ounce of courage she possessed to speak in her poorly practiced feminine voice, which cracked and rasped awkwardly.

"Umm, I'm... I'm here to see Mr. Nolan," she stammered, her words almost scattering in the air. The receptionist's expression remained impassive, his eyes flicking over her briefly before he nodded curtly and gestured towards the elevator with a practiced air of disinterest. Cynthia hurried towards it, relief washing over her like a cool breeze as the doors slid shut behind her, enveloping her in the hum of machinery and the faint scent of metal.

“This is so mental,” she gasps, shaking her head while trying to stay composed. “Why did I even do that? God I wish I kept my mouth shut… I wish I wasn’t such a mess. Wearing THAT while in men’s clothes… Gah!”

Her words echoing in the elevator as it hummed silently. Her anxiety was only calmed when she got a moment to catch herself in the elevator reflection. Despite her self criticism, she passed well. Her simple makeup stayed on and erased any sense of a 5 o’clock shadow, her lips looked full, and despite the mannish width of her shoulders, the rest of her body radiates with feminine pride. At first glance, and even after a good look, she look like a woman!

As the doors opened, the sound of her unfamiliar heels echoed loudly through the empty corridor, announcing her arrival to Mr. Nolan in a way that made her skin prickle. When she bought her heels over a year ago, it was simply to prance around indoors with. This wasn’t exactly part of her plan. She stepped out, her heart pounding in her throat like a caged bird, and saw him standing there with a warm, welcoming smile that seemed to light up the entire room.

"Welcome, Cynthia," he said, his deep, rich voice sending a shiver down her spine. "I'm glad you could make it." She nodded, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies rioting in her stomach, and followed him into his office. As she passed him, she could feel his eyes on her, taking in the sight of her in her new disguise. The way the skirt hugged her curves, the way the blouse clung to her shallow chest, the way her hair fell in soft, dark waves around her face. For a moment, she forgot to breathe, and wheezed uncomfortably.

Cynthia fidgeted nervously as she settled into the plush office chair across from Mr. Nolan's desk, her hands twisting the hem of her skirt in a habitual gesture of anxiety. The gentle hum of the air conditioner and the muted sounds of the city outside created a soothing background noise, but her mind remained a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. “So, how was your journey here?”

"It was... quite the trip," she said, her voice still shaky with lingering nerves. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before continuing. "I was on the bus, and my skirt kept riding up. I felt like everyone was staring at me, especially when that gentleman offered me his seat." She blushed at the memory, her face heating up as she recalled the way his kind gesture.

"I know it sounds silly, but it really threw me off," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I kept feeling like I was on display, like everyone could see right through my disguise. I mean don’t get me wrong I have been out dressed up but this is different."

Mr. Nolan leaned back in his chair, his expression sympathetic. "That's how many women feel, Cynthia," he said gently. "But you'll learn to manage it in time. Just focus on your breathing and try to relax. Just know that this is a pretty safe city to begin with."

His words were reassuring, and Cynthia felt a small sense of relief wash over her. She nodded, trying to absorb his advice. "I'll try," she promised, mustering a weak smile."

Mr. Nolan nodded understandingly. "I know it is. But you're doing great so far. Just take it one step at a time. After all, Cynthia. You’re my new PA. You will have plenty of things to do on my behalf, I’m sure it’ll take your mind off all of… this,” he gestures at her general direction.

“Which brings me to your first set of tasks,” he says, before handing you a touch pad, pen, and what appears to be a brand new phone. “I’ve heard from Mrs. Crawford you were extremely organised, which obviously wasn’t the case last week but here we are. That device has access to my general schedule and meetings, and any other commitments I have among other company things. The phone is brand new and for you. It has my contact saved in it for our communication, and other department heads and the C Suite saved inside. This is all important information.”

His eyes narrow. “I trust you’ll do your very best here. After all, Cynthia. We wouldn’t want any more… slip ups, now would we?”

His words ring loud and clear. Cynthia is to perform at her very best, or risk having her secret ratted out. “Crystal clear, Mr. Nolan.”

“Good, and your voice is still a bit mannish. Keep working on it, or speak less with everyone else. You might be the new hire here, but I can still see Cyril in your face, so I’m sure others can too if they paid attention.”

His words were like daggers. Cynthia’s heart sank a little at the thought. Even after applying makeup, Mr. Nolan can still make a distinction of it. She’s not out of the water in her new role just yet.

“Oh, don’t worry about it too much, Cynthia. I’m sure you’ll flourish a lot more now that I’ve allowed you this opportunity to embrace your more feminine side. Just don’t be too in your face with people you already know,” Mr. Nolan says, smiling.

“Ah, okay. I get you,” Cynthia responds, still a little taken aback.

“Now, since it’s your first day, let’s settle you with a simple task. Head down to Finance and ask them for the physical copy of our acquisitions from the last financial quarter. Look for Daniel, he will be able to pass you the documents. Can you manage that?”

Cynthia’s eyes widened at the opportunity to prove herself. Clearly it’s not as demanding as her previous role, but maybe it’s because she’s being eased in. “Ah, of course! I’ll go right away.”

As she hurriedly makes her way back to the elevator, Cynthia can’t help shake the feeling that Mr. Nolan's eyes are piercing right through her, mainly from her waist down. She mulls this thought over in the elevator, heading down to finance.