The Prodigal Son - 2028 - Part 4 - The Lads' NIght Out

It was time for Ray to go to work.

He checked himself out in the mirror in his room. He was wearing thick black stockings, a lined pencil skirt with a slit in the back which fell to just above his knees, a pair of black high heels with little black bows on the front and a white blouse that was as thin as gossamer and so transparent that the lace detail of Ray's boy bra and the outlines of his arms and torso could be seen.

Ray had to use a long blonde wig, as his hair was too short, into which a little black bow hairslide had been inserted. Ray was fully made up and he wore press on nails on his fingers. He had a large white handbag slung over his shoulder.

Ray's body convulsed with a shudder for he looked exactly like the office girls he had used to ogle in the past, when men had been allowed to be men. When men had been in control.


His mind was in turmoil. He knew himself to be a man, yet his face, softened and prettified by the use of cosmetics, was as delicate and feminine as that of a young woman. His senses were assaulted by the feel of soft and silky new fabrics that his body was unaccustomed to wearing, the jasmine and lavender scent that had been sprayed liberally all over his body, the feel of air on legs that were no longer encased in a bifurcated garment, and underneath his skirt, his torso restrained by the lace and straps of his boy-bra and the lace thong wedged between his bum cheeks.

He composed himself. It was his first day at work and he had to be alert.

An hour later found him in the administrative offices of Al La Mode. He had had to fill in some forms and have his photograph taken for his pass. It was incongruous to see what appeared to be the face of a pretty young woman against the name "Raymond McCrae - Trainee Administrative Assistant" when the pass was delivered to him.

He was told by Mrs Holland, the supervisor, that as a trainee he was to shadow Toby Johns, a fully fledged Administrative Assistant. Toby was a big man, well over six feet tall, and despite his best attempts to conform with the dress code, he looked like a man in drag.

Toby seemed sullen and resentful. He half heartedly showed Ray how to use the photocopier and then set him to work photocopying some company literature. Ray found it boring, even soul destroying work. He tried to get Toby to open up a little, but he seemed reluctant to say much.

Ray continued with the photocopying. By now, his mind was becoming numb with boredom and his mind went into autopilot. He was grateful when lunch came around. He took a meal from the subsidised staff canteen and went to sit by himself at a table, when Toby and some of the other assistants waved for him to go and join them.

Ray was initially inclined to ignore them, but if he was to get any information about the company, he needed to make friends. All of the male assistants wore the standard skirt and blouse combination and were made up. Ray picked up his tray and went to join them.

"Welcome to the world of the assistants of Al La Mode. The lowest of the low" Toby said bitterly. Ray said nothing in reply. He wanted to collect information, not give too much away about himself.

Toby proceeded to run down Mrs Holland, saying she was a rubbish supervisor. Toby had applied for the supervisor role and, in spite of having done his current job for almost a decade, had lost out to Mrs Holland.

"Do you know why I lost out to her?" Toby asked, the bitterness in his voice escalating "Not because she's better qualified than me, not because she's more experienced than me and not because she's a more natural leader than me. It's because she's a woman! The company is run by women and will always promote women at the expense of better qualified men to keep control".

Some of the mini-skirted boys rolled their mascaraed eyes, as if in pain. They had heard this vitriol before, dozens of times before. The others simply looked bored and played with their food. One boy had even taken refuge in re-varnishing his nails.

Looks like Toby was a one-man revolutionary. At least Ray knew why he was in such a foul mood.

Toby looked around at his companions "Just look at you. You don't give a damn about any of this do you? The fact that, from day one, we men have no chance of being more than the servants of women. You just sit there and paint your nails and look pretty for them! Don't any of you care?"

One of the pretty boys took his blonde, coiffed head out the beauty magazine he had been absorbed in "For gods' sake Toby, change the record! It's been over a year now since Holland was appointed!"

Snarling, Toby got up and left.

Ray ate and listened to the boys. He didn't learn much. They spoke mainly about their girlfriends, their girlfriends taking them out, their girlfriends buying them jewellery, lingerie and perfume, what was hot in the fashion world, beauty, make up and their girlfriends.

Ray finished his meal and excused himself from the group. He hobbled to the mens' toilets. Mens' toilets nowadays did not have urinals. Men had to squat as women did to do their business. Ray took off his high heels, which had been killing his feet all morning and saw with dismay that the skin on the heel of his feet had been rubbed raw. He took some sticking plasters out of his handbag and did the best he could with those.

This was the ultimate revenge of women upon men. Making them wear high heels!

Ray limped back to the photocopier and resumed his work. He was vaguely conscious of women passing by and checking out his skirted behind, his shapely legs and his rather delicate and pretty face. Ray felt humiliated at the reversal from being the hunter to being the prey. But, at the same time, he felt a exhilarating thrill to be the object of female attention.

It was all so very confusing!

When the working day finally ended, Ray was grateful to get home, kick off his heels and put his aching and blistered feet into water. He had to get the information needed to rob the company as soon as possible. The sooner he got the information, the sooner the robbery could go ahead and the sooner he could resume a masculine life.

Ray's working day settled into a pattern. He did photocopying, he had lunch with the airheaded boys and listened to Toby vent his spleen on womankind, he endured (and occasionally enjoyed!) being eye candy for the women. His feet ached but gradually got used to having to spend all day in high heels. He made some friends amongst the other assistants.

It was Toby's birthday and the assistants decided to take him for a night out in the hope it might help him cool off a little and be a little less bitter. There was a lunchtime discussion about what everybody should wear. Ray was asked what he intended to wear.

Ray shrugged "I'll just wear a blouse and full length skirt".

There were some cries of protest. Ken, one of the younger, prettier boys, said "You can't be serious! You should wear a mini-dress! You have fabulous legs...a lot of the women here think so!"

Ray blanched. He didn't want to end up in a mini-dress! He would draw way too much attention. But Ken took the decision out of his hands, demanding an immediate vote on the matter and the majority of those present voted in favour of Ray wearing a mini dress.

On the evening of the party, Ray took a long bath, depilated his body and sprayed it with perfume. He spent about an hour varnishing and painting his nails a deep shade of red. His maid, Anthony, had laid out the clothes he was to wear. Ray quickly donned the black lace boy-bra, matching knickers and black stockings. Then he put on the black mini-dress, which fit him snugly. The hem of the dress fell to just below his knicker line. Ray realised that he would have to be careful not to show off his knickers when he moved.

Ray put a silver necklace around his neck and sat at his vanity, which was covered with an array of cosmetics. Ray had picked up many make up tips from the boys at work and he set to work to transform his masculine visage into a pretty, feminine one. When he had finished, he brushed his long hair so that it framed his face. He put some bangles on his arms, shod his stockinged feet into a pair of shiny black high heels and slung his tiny silver handbag onto his shoulder. He was ready!

Ray looked at himself in the mirror and cringed. He looked so pretty! Not only that, he discovered, but he also felt pretty! By having to adopt feminine clothing and accessories, Ray knew that he was gradually having to become more feminine.

He went out for the lads night out. It was like no lad's night out that he had ever been on! The boys were dressed in a similar way to Ray and carried handbags. The boys sat demurely in the pub, like well brought up ladies, making polite comments on each other's dresses and make up.

The same could not be said of a group of women who, according to the landlady, had been drinking since lunchtime. It was now just gone 7pm. They were loud, raucous and drunk. Some of them tried to slap or pinch the skirted bottoms of boys who had to pass their table to use the loo. Others began shouting at the boys, inviting them to join them at their table, making lewd comments or suggesting that the boys come and sit on their laps.

The boys tried to ignore them. One of the more vocal of the women started to become angry at being ignored. She rose from her place, pint glass in hand, and staggered over to where the boys were sitting.

She jabbed Ray on his arm "Oi! Bitch! I'm talking to you!" the woman's voice was slurred and she swayed about. She had had way too much to drink. She began stroking Ray's face affectionately "You're a very pretty boy, darling. Why don't you come and sit on my lap?" The woman began trying to pull Ray over to where she had been sitting.

Had he not been dressed as he was, Ray could have laid her out with a punch. But, wearing a dress and heels, he felt helpless and vulnerable. So did the other boys. They sat there, dumbstruck, as if watching a disaster and being unable to do anything more than watch it happen.

The woman was quite strong, Ray noted, and she soon had him perched on her generous lap. Without warning, she snogged him, and Ray gagged at her breath, which reeked of alcohol, and her probing tongue. The woman also had wandering hands. One of them was fondling Ray's bottom and the other was stroking his stockinged legs.

Ray was at a complete loss. This was completely out of his experience and he had no idea what to do except to submit to what was happening to him. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spied one of the woman's hands beginning to explore beneath his skirt!

Ray went into a blind panic and began resisting. His only impulse was to get away from this woman as far as possible. He writhed and twisted with all of his strength to get away. His suitor was not impressed "What's the matter with you, you stupid bitch? Stay on my...aaah!"

The woman cried out and jumped to her feet. In so doing, she carelessly dropped Ray to the floor. He ended up on his back with his frilly black knickers on full display. It was most unladylike. Stunned by the fall, Ray lay there for a minute until he felt several pairs of hands helping him to his feet.

The pub had descended into complete chaos. The woman who had accosted Ray was screaming and trying to get at Toby, threatening to castrate him and turning the air blue with her language, but some of the other boys had interposed themselves to protect him.

The woman was soaking wet and stank of beer. Toby had poured a pint all over her to distract her from groping Ray. Her companions were getting rowdy, egging the woman on to give Toby and his little band of sissies a good pasting.

"RIGHT!" bellowed the voice of the landlady "GET OUT OF MY PUB RIGHT NOW! THE LOT OF YOU!". The landlady, a tiny but spirited woman, grabbed two of the women by the hair and threw them out on to the street. Ray and the others watched in amazement as she repeated the act as many times as was necessary until all of the unruly women had been ejected.

The women hung around outside the pub for a while, shouting obscenities at the landlady, but her sudden appearance caused them to bolt and run.

Peace reigned in the pub. The landlady asked Ray if he was alright and gave him a glass of wine on the house. The landlady shook her head "In my day, ladies were ladies and acted like ladies. That lot were no ladies, just a bunch of hooligans. Norman!"

A large man in a blouse, mini-skirt and frilly apron appeared by her side. "Get a mop and get this mess cleared up, dear".

"Yes, darling" Norman said submissively. The large bar man and the tiny landlady were evidently husband and wife.

Ray spent the rest of the evening in a daze. He had been horrified by the way that woman had treated him. Like a piece of meat. But he was even more disturbed by his own reactions. Instead of standing up to the woman, he had behaved like a petrified schoolgirl!

What was happening to him? Was the effect of having to wear feminine clothing warping his brain, making it more feminine? He trembled. He had to resume a masculine life, before it was too late!