Working Girl -4-

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Working Girl 4

By

Susan Brown

Before I knew it, Sheila had me back on my feet with a little help
from a spotty McDonald's helper, who looked like Ronald McDonalds son.
I was whisked into the ladies toilet (another thing to add further
horror to my already battered senses).

Luckily there was no one in the toilet. I think I would have died if
there was.

'Sheila, let me go home, please!'

'Now don't be a silly girl, Toni. You only slipped and fell over, no
big deal.'

'One, I am not a girl I am a boy and by the way I can hear the way
you are spelling my name. Two I am a boy in a girl's toilet. C I am
confused as hell and I've forgotten what I was going to say now. Oh
yes, I WANT TO GO HOME!'

'Now don't shout honey, it will only draw attention to yourself.
You are doing fine, look, it's only your coat that's really got wet
and dirty. Take it off and I'll see if I can't get it cleaned up a little.

'But everyone saw me. They must know by now that I am a pervert dressed
as a girl. I bet the police are on the way and they will lock me up and

throw away the key.'

Even I could tell that I was beginning to sound a bit delirious. It
must have been the shock. While I had been talking, Sheila had started
to clean me up and taken the sticky slice of pickle off of my hair. God
knows how it had arrived there. It must have had a life of its own. She
brushed my hair, wig or whatever. She then used plenty of tissues to wipe
up the splashes of pink goo on my once shiny shoes. She then proceeded to
fix my makeup, which by this time had started to look, to say the least,
bizarre.

You may think that I submitted to this meekly, but all the time I was
complaining, creating and behaving like a spoilt brat.

There was a knock on the door!

I shut up like a clam with laryngitis and looked at Sheila with horror.

'Quick, into the toilet booth, while I find out who it is.'

I rushed into the small cubicle locked the door and sat down on the
toilet. I nearly screamed as I realised that some prat had lifted the
seat and my silkily clad and almost bare rear end touched the cold
white porcelain of the toilet bowl. I eventually sorted myself out
and then heard Sheila and another woman talking about me.

'Hello Madam, I am the duty manageress. How is your friend, is she OK?'

'Yes she is tidying herself up in the cubicle. She'll be alright in a
minute.'

'The Mother of the little boy has apologised to you both and has left
She has paid for a new meal for you both. When your friend has cleaned up,
please let us know what you want and I'll make sure it's brought over to
your table. Is that OK?'

'Yes, that's fine. I don't think she will be long now.'

With that I heard the door close so I stood up unlocked the door and
poked my head out.

'Is she gone?' I whispered.

'Yes, did you hear what she said.'

'Yes, but I can't go in there, everyone will know what I am.'

'That's right they will.'

'Eh?'

'They will see you for what you are, a pretty young girl. Look at
yourself in the mirror. Is that a reflection of a boy or a girl?'

I looked at myself. My hair was a bit mussed up and my makeup still
wasn't quite repaired yet, but there was no denying that there was no
way anyone would think I was a boy dressed and looking like that. Hell,
I looked so nice, my penis started to shake itself and stir
uncomfortably down below. God, how creepy I was beginning to fancy
myself! Let me tell you, dear and patient reader that there is nothing
more uncomfortable than a restricted and bent stiffy!

'I look OK, I guess,' I said grudgingly.

'You look more that OK you look lovely and you know it. I wish I had
legs like yours. Now come on, let's finish tidying you up and go and
have that meal.'

In a few minutes, you would not have known that I had a near death
experience with a pickle. Sheila had gone off with the coat and then
came back with it looking a bit damp, but without any sign of pink.

My hair was neat and tidy and my makeup had been redone to Sheila's
satisfaction. It was with a lot of trepidation that I left the toilet
and walked the three miles to the table in the corner.

I looked around to see if anyone was laughing at me or ringing the police
on their mobiles. I swear that I saw a baby in a pram with a mobile but
that may have just been my heightened sense of unreality.

I noticed that all the faces were different. I then remembered that people
never stayed long in places like that and a whole new load of gullible punters
had taken the place of the ones that were there when we arrived.

We ate our meal in silence. Sheila was too busy filling her face and I
was looking around furtively to see if I was being ogled at. As I saw
people munching away at their Big Macs and breaking their teeth on the
rock hard fries. I realised that no-one was paying us the least bit of
attention.

I started to relax and my heart rate dropped to around 150 a
minute. I dipped my McNuggets into the mild curry source and
actually managed to force some down without puking. I brushed the hair
out of my eyes and started thinking about of all things whether I preferred
stockings to tights!

I suddenly realised that for a few moments I had forgotten that I was a boy
dressed as a girl. I felt like a girl or what I assumed a girl should feel
like. My penis had shrunk back to manageable proportions and was no longer
an uncomfortable problem.

I revelled in the coolness of my legs when the inappropriate air conditioning
wafted air up them. The cool silky touch of my clothes and the way my silky
panties slid on the mock leather seats all made me feel what could only
described as feminine.

'God,' I thought, 'I could get used to this.'

Suddenly I jumped as Sheila spoke.

'That was nice, have you finished yet, we need to go. I'm feeling tired and
need to get some sleep. I'm covering a shift for someone in a few hours.'

I hurriedly finished my meal and we went out into the chilly air. I put my
still slightly damp coat on as I was getting goose pimples on my bare arms.
We walked over to the car and got in.

In no time we were on the way to the safety and security of home.
Sheila kept looking at her watch and muttering about the time. We were nearly
home when we heard a siren behind us, getting nearer with every second. I looked
behind and saw the flashing lights of a police car come up close behind.

'Oh shit,' said Sheila as she pulled over to the side.

She switched off the engine and got out of the car as the tall
policeman walked over.

I could not hear the conversation as I huddled down into the seat,
trying to make myself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

Suddenly I heard a tap on the window. I didn't see the other policeman come
up to the car.

I wound down the window and said in my best squeaky Mini Mouse voice,
'Can I help you?'

'Get out of the car please.'

I opened the door and got out. I nearly tripped on the hem of my dress as I
caught it on something, but managed to get out without anything ripping or dropping off.

I looked over the bonnet of the car and noticed that Sheila was being
searched!

My policeman said to me, 'Name please.'

'Erm TTTony SSSummers,'

'Put your hands on the bonnet and spread your legs, please.'

In a dream I did as I was told. I saw Sheila opposite me doing the
same. Our eyes met. I could see the horror in her eyes as we realised
simultaneously that very soon, the policeman would find a package that he did not
bargain for!

He stared with my ankles and quickly frisked up to my hips and then....

To be continued

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Comments

At least

they got a free meal out of the incident. Tony gets comfortable dressed as Toni. Now these cops are about to cause the"girls" more grief. Well, they may not, WHO KNOWS!!!

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

So why was the car stopped?

So why was the car stopped? The police just stopped it, pulled Shelia out and started frisking her and then the other officer has Toni get out and starts frisking her and no-one has said why? As a retired officer, I wonder what's up. Is their car a "look alike" to a stolen or armed robbery suspect or ? Do they look like suspects being looked for?
Is this normal procedure in England, cause it would not "fly" in the States. You have to give a reason for the stop and it has to be a legal reason or you could easily find yourself in front of your Sgt/LT/Capt or even court explaining your actions. J-Lynn

I can't breathe!

erin's picture

...near death experience with a pickle... :)

- Erin

= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.

-giggles- Oh, this is wonderf

-giggles- Oh, this is wonderful. I have not been commenting due to being out of it but... great job so far! I loved seeing these again.

-r

-a

in a pickle

Thanks for your kind comments, girls.

Unfortunately, I am writing this in hiding as the NSPCP (National Society For The Prevention Of Cruelty To Pickles) are after me.

Yours worriedly,

Susan

That is truly a worrisome sta

That is truly a worrisome state of affairs. You might even say you have a dill-ema. -g-

-r

-a

Yuk, Hart

Hart, please leave the bad puns to me. I've had practice.

I think I might pass on your details to the NSPCP too!

Hugs
Susan

From Frying Pan Into Fire

The girls had best hope for an understanding cop

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine