New Dimensions Ready to Wear by: Rachel Ann Cooper © 1999
In college, I had majored in graphic design but when I graduated, there were no jobs out there in my field that didn’t require me to move. I really liked Manhattan and wanted to stay. The only thing that caught my eye was a sales job with a firm in the garment district called New Dimensions. I’d never heard of them but that was no reason not to look at what seemed to be a pretty good starting salary and benefits so I called for an interview.
Well, that’s all history now. They liked me and my background in design and hired me as a sales rep. I’ve been with them for three years and with year end bonuses, am doing rather well for a 25 year old. Being on the road all the time, my love life is pretty much nil, but I figure if it’s meant to be, I’ll find myself in the right situation eventually.
Being a rep for women’s ready to wear and lingerie was never in my mind at all, but the company seems to put out a quality product and we don’t have any real competition for the sleek lingerie because nobody else has our fine, silky material. They call it ‘Dimenel’ but it’s a patented process and a copyrighted name and they won’t even tell us what it is. All I know is, it sure feels nice in the hand. Alright, it feels good ON too.
After a little while selling it, I found that I was having a hard time describing to the buyers exactly what it felt like to wear so I took some panties, camisoles and body shapers in my size up to the apartment and began wearing them. They are addictive. Now I know why our sales keep increasing.
Women who buy keep coming back and tell their friends. This stuff feels incredibly sleek and sensuous. Just wearing it makes you feel sexy and feminine and for a man, that can be a real problem. Fortunately, most of the buyers of this merchandise are women, so when I get extremely descriptive, they understand exactly what I’m saying and I always leave them some samples in their size. That clinches the deal. I’ve managed to increase my territory’s gross by 3,000% in three years. I suppose that when I was with my female clients, I would slip into some very feminine language and phrasing and yes, now that I think of it, gestures. They didn’t seem to mind and were always appreciative as was I for their orders.
Mrs. Talbot, my boss, was appreciative too. I spent Monday mornings doing reports and meeting with her and several other reps. Having not much to do nights on the road, I would sketch, and my sketches very quickly turned to fashions. I was a fair artist and was constantly designing all kinds of women’s wear, even some evening gowns.
The thought of the company using any of this stuff never entered my mind until Mrs. Talbot saw the 16" by 20" pad on my desk one day and asked me if they were mine, telling me that she thought they were very good. I thanked her and she asked if she could show them to her boss. "Of course," was my immediate reply. Who knows, maybe I could be another Versache.
Since I was not wearing my jacket, she also noticed my camisole showing through my shirt. I was a bit embarrassed but explained about needing first hand product knowledge. Actually, after three years, I had accumulated quite a collection of new designs and always enjoyed wearing them. OK, I know this sounded like a lingerie fetish but it didn’t begin that way. Like I said though, this stuff is addictive and I couldn’t return it to stock after I’d worn it now, could I?. I’m afraid I was in feminine lingerie every hour of every day including the lovely nightgowns.
It was a couple weeks later when she came in and told me that her boss would like to see me together with the head of the design department. I got a few butterflies in my stomach but of course, agreed. It was about 11am and a hot day. She offered me a glass of lemonade which I gratefully accepted. It tasted just a little off, but was refreshing. Mrs. Talbot was a rather large woman, at least 5'10" and broad shouldered. She never ever wore anything but pants suits. I guess she wasn’t very proud of her figure.
When they had given me the tour of the building, the design department was not included. They said they were concerned about industrial espionage. That seemed reasonable, given the nature of the special material and the fashion business and I just forgot about it.
When we got in the elevator, Mrs. Talbot said we were going to the 13th floor. I protested that there WAS no 13th floor per se in this building because of people’s superstitions. The floor numbers went 11-12-14-15. She took out what looked like a calculator from her pocket and aimed it at the panel after pressing number 14 and sure enough, both 12 and 14 lit up as we stopped. When the door opened however, the scene before us was that of an empty and unfinished floor.
Just beyond the door, there seemed to be a semi circle of shimmering light which we had to pass through to enter the room. There was no way to avoid it. She told me the room was ‘cloaked’ like a ship on Star Trek and what I was seeing was the matrix that kept all visual perceptions and sounds invisible. This was getting just a little bizarre. I like sci-fi and all but...
As we stepped out she took my hand and we walked through the matrix together. When we emerged on the other side, I looked up at her. I had never had to look UP to her before. We were pretty much eye to eye and she always wore flats. She no longer had her women’s pants suit on but was dressed in a mannish business suit complete with neck tie.
She still held my hand and I had the strange sensation that hers was now significantly larger than my own and it felt as though my finger nails had grown out. I could feel them touching the palm of her hand. This caused me to look down at our hands and sure enough, I could see that my wrist watch was smaller as well as my hand with it’s long, enameled nails.
As though she knew exactly what I was thinking, she said, "Lynn, that is why you had to drink the lemonade. It was, of course, not lemonade but a drink that allowed you to pass through our matrix unharmed and assume the shape and dress of our male population. It also had a powerful tranquilizer in it so that you would not panic at what has taken place."
As she said this, I looked down at the rest of me. I stood there in a grey wool suit, one of ours, fully lined with Dimenel. The skirt was knee length, the blouse white and I was wearing very sexy red leather 3" heeled pumps over charcoal hose and didn’t think a thing about it. I felt wonderful. My bosom was full and it was indeed my own and nestled in our most popular underwire bra. My waist was tiny. I could also feel that there seemed to nothing ‘in’ my panties. I wanted to touch myself there but knew it was useless. Somehow, I had become a woman. As I finished this thought, she said, "no, you are not a woman, at least not on our world."
"YOUR WORLD?"
"Yes Lynn. When you stepped through the matrix, you stepped into a transporter. We are 5,000 light years from where we started."
I’m afraid this information was even more than the lemonade could handle and my knees began to collapse. Mrs. Talbot caught me easily in her strong arms. I could not have been over 5"5" tall now or 120 pounds and no matter what she said, from where I stood, I was now FEMALE.
As I awakened, she said, "no, Lynn, you have been reconfigured to our men’s standards. Before we go meet the men who staff the design team, lets go to the lunch room and talk. I’ll try to explain."
Once seated and my skirt smoothed, an action that seemed automatic, she handed me a beverage not unlike cappuccino and sat down.
"Alright Lynn, you deserve an explanation and yes, the women of our planet are telepaths and this society is a matriarchy. Just about everything here is the reverse of your earth."
I began to have a thought and she said, "yes, I suppose we are aliens to you but I can assure you, we all answer to the same God. There are no less than 14 earth like planets within our transporter range and none of them within range of earth technology for at least the next 200 years by any means. As we evolved over thousands of years, we began to have a great deal of difficulty with infertility in the women so our scientists devised a solution. When males are conceived, as soon as there is sufficient cellular structure to the fetus, the genetic structure is altered to aid in propagating our species."
"All our males are born as total hermaphrodites and are capable of conceiving, carrying a baby to term and nursing it. We, as women, are only fertile for one week a year while they are fertile all the time and when our pheremones signal the males we are ready, their penis, normally just a tiny bit larger than an earth female’s clitoris, becomes constantly engorged for that period becoming large enough and productive enough to be milked of their sperm, which we then implant in their female uterus as well as the wife’s."
"All sperm is banked and if my husband’s is not good, I can use another’s or if I am incapable of conceiving and we want children, then my husband can become pregnant for us. It is an ideal situation for our race as we were in danger of dying out about 12 generations ago. The men are perfectly happy in their roles, which would traditionally be held by women on your earth, and there hasn’t been a war in over 100 years. They, of course, conduct themselves just like the women of your race and your women don’t start wars. "
"Mrs. Talbot, this is right out of Star Trek for sure. We thought there was no intelligent life ‘out here."
"More intelligent than you can realize, dear. And there are none of those races like you have seen depicted either. We are all humanoid with only minor differences just like there are on your earth among the various races, with the usual language barriers, of course. If you’ve had enough of explanations, let’s go meet the head designer."
"Lynn Walters, I’d like you to meet Mr. Gorteg, our Chief designer. He heads up the entire staff."
"I’m pleased to meet you...uh.. sir. This is quite a facility you have here." "Thank you, he said." It was then I realized that my voice too, was totally feminine just like his.
"We really think you have potential for design and would like you to change departments and you may call me Myla if it is more comfortable. What do you say?"
"What I need to say first is that you are asking me to change more than just my department."
"Come now, Lynn. You have been wearing our garments for over two years. Did you think we were unaware of this? On earth, what we are asking of you is a next logical step."
"Perhaps, but I saw my reflection in that mirror over there and as far as I am concerned it was Lynn Walters, FEMALE, long hair, feminine features down to the last detail."
"I don’t think that is something you need be too concerned about here, Lynn. You are quite attractive and a young male here, will live to be at least 150 earth years and should have no trouble finding a mate."
"Let me ask you Mr. Gorteg, Myla, will the females of this planet be attractive to me and will I be to them?"
"Most definitely Lynn. Your body is not the only thing modified by the matrix. Your thought processes relative to such things have been as well."
"What about my parents?"
"We can modify their memories to include you as their daughter rather than son."
"Can I go back to earth and visit them?"
"Certainly. You can go when you get back if you wish and whenever you wish. If you agree to join our creative staff, upon passing through the matrix on the way back, your changes will become permanent. You will indeed become an earth female to all appearances and enjoy wearing our full line of clothing and footwear, and here on Toluria you will be considered male even though you can bear children if necessary. Notice I did not say ‘man’ at any time. Males we are. Men, in the sense you think of them do not exist here. We adhere to your traditional female patterns of thinking, dress and conduct and we simply adore our role in society. We get to wear the prettiest clothes and hairstyles and our females take very good care of us."
"I’m sure you will come to enjoy being pursued by many handsome females. Since you will be able to both father and mother a child to the age of 100 or so, you have plenty of time. However, we are a monogamous society and a moral one. Besides, your wife will treat you so well, you won’t want to stray. Well, what do you say? Will you join us here on Toluria for the next 125 years?"
"We’ll even treat you to a complete session in our beauty salon before you return if you like."
"Myla, I think you have made me, as they say, an offer I can’t refuse."
"Wonderful. Mrs. Talbot, take our new designer down and get him a facial, manicure and hair styling before he goes back with you. We understand, Lynn, that you need to maintain a presence there on earth, so when you get back, pick any and all clothing and accessories that you need and we’ll have them sent right over to your apartment. You will need quite a bit to start your life there as a female. Oh, and don’t worry about becoming pregnant or diseased. Your body will not respond to human sperm any longer and we long ago conquered all the diseases on your earth so if you wish to experience the pleasures of your new status there, we do not object. However, after you are married, then you will be faithful to your wife regardless of which world you happen to be on, therefore, sow those seeds now or not at all. Do we have an understanding?"
"Yes sir, and thanks for these opportunities. Design is what I really wanted to do and the body, well, I think I like it."
"Remember, chimed in Mrs. Talbot, I can read your thoughts. You love your new body little one. Don’t be shy." I’m afraid I blushed at that one.
"Alright, off with you," said Myla. "Report back here next Monday. You can have the next four days to adjust to your new life."
When Mrs. Talbot and I were safely back in ‘the elevator’ I exclaimed, "wow, that was some experience. I’m not going to wake up in my office chair and find I’ve been dreaming am I ?"
"No Lynn. I can assure you, as far as earth is concerned, you now have not only the right but the obligation to wear all of our fashions. Anything else would be inappropriate. On earth, you are now a functional female in every way except conception. You can only be fertilized by a Tolurian male’s sperm now."
"Boy, that’s a relief," I said in my now permanently soprano voice. "You know, this whole thing was such a wild ride for me, I forgot to ask about my salary!"
"Oh, don’t worry dear, it will amount to at least the equivalent of $200,000 earth dollars the first year. I’m sure you will do just fine or we would not have made this unprecedented offer. You are the first off worlder we have taken into our confidence. Since you will be spending some time here, we thought that we might introduce you as one of our design staff when there is a fashion show or some other function that would benefit by your presence. Would you enjoy that?"
"Yes, very much."
"It would no doubt require an evening gown at times and mixing with the society types here. I’m not very good at that yet myself and that is a very attractive body." "Mrs. Talbot..."
"Call me Katrina. I’m only 85 and you aren’t my employee anymore."
"Alright Katrina. I think this is really going to be fun but I suppose I should to get in there and clean out my office."
"Nonsense. I’ll have maintenance do it and we’ll send it all over to your apartment this afternoon. Go out and fill up a clothing rack with our designs and go home and relax."
"Thank you. I will." After an exhausting afternoon, I caught a cab and had an early supper at Mama Leoni’s. I love their linguini. Then I got another cab to my apartment where I noticed with amazement that the name on my mailbox said ‘Lynn Marie Walters.’ Boy, they don’t miss a lick. I think tomorrow I’ll go down to the ‘village’ and see if I can find something uniquely New York to take back to Toluria as a memento. I wonder if my new clothes have arrived. I can’t wait to slip into that red peignoir and slippers in front of the TV and just veg out. Just think, if I hadn’t decided to get first hand product knowledge, none of this may have happened. Just goes to show you, a girl needs to follow her instincts. <grin>
The end.
© 1997-2000 No work herein described may be reproduced or distributed in print or electronic media without the author's express consent. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, to actual names that may exist or to circumstances which may have occurred or to other stories in this genre is purely coincidental.
At the request of the author, this story is presented in a 12 point, Times New Roman font.