Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Sissy Story Archives (older stories) => 2011-2018 Sissy Stories => Topic started by: Alana on October 03, 2017, 04:53:57 PM
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Weathergirl
By Alana
When I decided to become a weatherman, I realized that having a name like Tommy Showers could provoke more than a few little jokes and wisecracks. But I knew that for a weatherman, it's not enough to be competent and know your stuff; you have to keep people entertained, you sometimes have to be a little silly and not take yourself too seriously, unless the occasion demands. So I didn't mind the occasional jokes.
Upon graduating I started to apply all over Southern California for a position. I heard there was an opening at a small station in Van Nuys, and I went down there to interview with the news director, a woman named Emily.
She shook my hand and directed me to a chair.
"So, you know why our previous weathergirl lost her job?" she asked.
"No, I don't."
"She walked in front of the green screen in a green dress. It looked like you could see right through her."
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I groaned.
"That's embarrassing, but it seems a bit much to fire someone over that."
"That's what I said, but the station manager was adamant. Anyway, I looked over your tape, and you definitely know your stuff. You're also very entertaining. I think you'd be a good fit for this station, but there's one problem. We only hire weathergirls."
"Couldn't you make an exception, just this once?"
"It's not my rule, it's the station manager's. But I don't think it should be a problem. I think you'd make a lovely girl."
"Very funny."
"I'm not joking. I'd be willing to help you with your make-up, and pick out some pretty dresses for you."
I stood up.
"Look, if you don't want to give me the job, fine, but you don't have to insult me."
"Oh, so calling you a lovely girl is an insult, is it? I like that. Anyway, here's my card. Let me know if you change your mind."
I looked at the card she'd placed in my hand.
"So, you're actually talking about doing this? You're serious?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"No one's ever going to believe I'm a woman. Anyway, I couldn't do it."
"Why not?"
"You really think I'd have so little respect for myself as a man to dress like a woman just to get a job?"
"Fine. I hope you can pay your rent with your self-respect. Call me if you change your mind."
I left. I had a few more job interviews that day.
After a few weeks, my savings were running out and I still didn't have a job. I couldn't go back to living with my parents. I needed a job. I would watch the news on the Van Nuys station, and the weather was being done by one bimbo after another, each more hopeless than the last. Most of them only lasted the one night. So I was pretty sure the job was still open.
I called the number. I couldn't believe I was about to do this.
"Great!" she said. "So, I suppose you don't want anyone else at the station to know you're not an actual genuine woman?"
I sighed.
"No. I don't."
"Well, then we'll have to be very clandestine. Be at the station Sunday at midnight. I'll meet you there. We'll work on your look. Your walk and your talk. I'll lend you some of my dresses, to start. I think we're probably the same dress size. Better shave your legs and arms. And chest. And armpits."
I groaned.
I met her at the appointed hour. She had her arms full of various things. Make-up, lingerie, a dress, a wig, shoes, pantyhose. I couldn't believe I about to wear this stuff. I helped her carry it all in.
We went to the green screen, where I would be doing the weather report. In a dress. She gave me some privacy to take off my clothes and put on some panties. When she saw me in nothing but a pair of pink satin panties, she giggled.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing. I'm sorry. Let me help you with your pantyhose."
She showed me how to put them on, and then I had to stuff myself into a girdle. She giggled again, and apologized. She showed me how to put on a bra, and stuffed the breast forms in it. When I put on the slip she laughed again, and didn't even bother to apologize.
When I saw the tiny dress she wanted me to wear, I couldn't believe it. It looked like it belonged to a puppet.
"I can't wear that!"
"Why not? You don't seriously think they'll let our weathergirl wear pants, do you?"
"It's too short!"
"Have you never seen a weathergirl in Southern California? Busty Latina babes spilling out of their tops, wearing skirts about the size of a napkin. You're getting off easy."
"You'd never wear this dress to work, would you?"
"No, but I'm not the weathergirl. You are. So put on the dress, unless you'd rather do the job in your lingerie."
I somehow got into the dress, and she showed me how to do my make-up.
"Pay attention. You'll have to do this yourself, you know."
She got the wig on me, and I stepped into the black high heels, and practiced walking. Then I practiced speaking. She helped me find my female voice.
She told me to improvise a sample weather report in front of the green screen. She gave me a pointer to use. I hadn't seen a weathergirl use a pointer in a long time.
When I finished, she said, "That was very professional, and it would be fine if you were a weatherman, but you're not. You're a weathergirl. You've got to sell it! You've got to flirt with the camera; you've got to seduce the men tuning in at home. Imagine they're taping your weather broadcast and watching it later, and pleasuring themselves. Because believe me, they will."
"I can't do that!" I exclaimed.
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"Well then you'd better take off your dress and go home right now. No one forced you to take this job, but this is the job. If you can't do it, then go home and stop wasting my time."
I rolled my eyes and tried again. I flirted with the camera. I simpered. I teased. And somehow, in the middle of all that, I had time to report the weather.
"Better," she said. "And I expect it to get better still, but that's all we can do for now. It's late. Oh, there's one more thing we have to get sorted out. We can't call you Tommy. You're a girl, now. We'll call you April."
"April Showers?"
"Seems appropriate."
Great. So now my name is even more of a joke.
At her insistence, I went home in the dress. I was scared to death, getting back into my apartment in a sexy dress, but no one saw me.
On Monday I didn't have to be at work until two o'clock in the afternoon. I put back on everything I'd taken off the night before, and did my make-up. I thought I looked passable, but I was still scared as I left for my car. There weren't too many people about at that hour, and when someone saw me I'd turn my face away. I walked down four flights of stairs in high heels, rather than let anyone see me in the elevator.
Emily met me and introduced me to the anchor team. I couldn't believe I was getting away with it, but neither of the anchor men seemed to suspect anything.
When it finally came time for me to do the weather for the evening broadcast, I was nervous, but I did it the way I'd rehearsed. I showed off my legs in that short skirt, walking back and forth with my pointer, doing the seven day forecast.
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At one point I accidentally dropped the pointer. I teased the viewers by leaning over to pick it up with my back to the camera, twitching my butt in that short, tight skirt. Well, that's what the viewers want.
I then straightened up, tugged down my skirt and finished the weather report on time.
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After the broadcast I met Emily back in front of the green screen.
"That was great, April! You looked really beautiful and sexy!"
"Thanks. I guess."
"Do that dropping the pointer thing on the eleven o'clock broadcast, too."
"Whatever you say."
"We've already gotten lots of positive calls about the new weathergirl. All from men, of course."
"Great."
I couldn't seem to work up much enthusiasm over my success.
"This is Mr. Harper. Station manager."
I turned to see a spindly looking unattractive bald man stepping forward to shake my hand. His eyes dipped down a little, to take in my legs.
"April Showers! Great to finally meet you. Emily has been doing nothing but singing your praises all day."
I got terribly shy and nervous. I avoided eye contact and looked down. I was certain he saw me for what I was. A man in a dress.
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"Thank you, Mr. Harper."
"George, please. Say, why don't we celebrate our new working relationship! Let's have dinner together, April, just the two of us."
I looked into his eyes, and there was no mistaking what he had in mind. This was not any casual little impersonal dinner between co-workers. He seemed to be devouring me with his eyes.
My hands were so sweaty, I put them on the sides of my skirt to dry them off. I didn't know what to say. Finally, I smiled and tried to reject him in the nicest way possible. I couldn't afford to get on his bad side. I told the only lie I could think of.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Harper---George---but I have a boyfriend, and he's very jealous. He wouldn't be prepared to be understanding about the two of us having dinner together, all by ourselves. I'm sure you didn't mean anything by it, but it'd just be a whole big thing between us. I'm sorry."
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He looked crestfallen. He did his best to act like it was no big deal, but he seemed very disappointed. He said good-bye, and before he left he wrapped his arms around me in a big hug, which only made me even more nervous.
When he was gone, Emily said, "Sorry about that. I should've warned you about him. Our station manager is kind of a horndog. He usually leaves me alone, only because I'm married. You know, what you said about the previous weathergirl making one tiny mistake and getting fired? Yeah, that was him trying to get into her panties. He seized upon an excuse to fire her, and then tried to sexually harass her, promising her her job back if she gave him what he demanded. His word against hers, of course, but I believe her. So don't make a mistake, April, whatever you do."
"Great. So, no pressure."
"Listen, you'll need to borrow a lot more of my dresses until you get your first paycheck. Why don't you come over to my place tomorrow, around ten in the morning? My husband will be gone by then. You can try on some more of my dresses! Won't that be fun? You'll come over as April, of course."
Hmmm. Coming around to her apartment when her husband wasn't home? Taking my clothes off in front of her? This sounded interesting. If getting laid was part of this job, maybe it wasn't such a bad job after all.
The next morning I wondered if I should really go over there as April. Maybe it turned her on to see me as April. Maybe there was a little bit of lesbian in her. So I went ahead and transformed myself into April, and ran to the car as fast as my high heels could take me, before anyone saw me.
I got there at ten on the dot. I hurriedly knocked at the door, looking around to see if anyone was noticing me or staring at me.
She greeted me warmly, and we started right in. I tried on one dress after another. She seemed to be having such a good time and laughing, so I laughed too. At one point she helped me off with a dress, and we were standing close to each other, me in just my lingerie, and it seemed as good a time as any to make my move. I grabbed her and kissed her.
She backed away and looked horrified.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Excuse me?" I said. I was genuinely puzzled.
"What are you doing?"
"Oh come on, Emily. You invite me to your apartment when your husband isn't here, you get me to take off my clothes in front of you. What was I supposed to think? After all, I've already gotten into your panties as it is."
She didn't think that was funny.
"Did you seriously think I wanted to hook up with a man who wears dresses and pantyhose? I mean, look at you!"
"It's not my fault I have to wear dresses! You're the one who made me!"
"Yes, and you went along with it. You really thought I invited you here to---? Look, just forget it. You've got enough dresses. Take them and go, already. Just get out of here."
"I didn't mean anything by it."
"Just go!"
I put on the dress I'd just been wearing, and she refused to even help me with the zipper. With some difficulty I got it zipped up. I left her apartment with an armful of dresses.
By the time I got home I just had time to hang the dresses up in my closet before I had to get to work. I could see that I'd be expected to wear another dress with a short skirt, to show off my legs and keep the viewers happy, so I chose a short teal velvet dress.
When I got to work, I got a message that Emily wanted to talk to me in the studio. I met her over by the green screen. I hoped she wasn't still angry.
"Nice dress," she said. "You're very generous with your legs, aren't you, April?"
"I got the impression that's what was expected of me."
"Unfortunately, the color's all wrong. You're going to disappear in front of the green screen, just like your predecessor."
"Then why in the world did you give me this dress in the first place?"
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"Oh, I don't know. I thought it might be a nice dress to wear on the weekend."
"I DON'T WEAR---" I said, a little too loudly. People were looking. I lowered my tone, and hissed at her, "I don't wear dresses on the weekend! I'm not working on the weekend!"
"Well, you might have a hot date with some cute guy."
I could see she just wanted to get a rise out of me. Probably still mad about what happened that morning. I wasn't going to react.
"Anyway," she said, "it doesn't matter. The word has come down from on high. Mr. Harper wants to try you out in some more girly dresses, to see what the viewers think."
"More girly? What the hell do they want out of me, pink lace?"
"Say! Pink lace! There's an idea! I think you'd look darling in a pink lace dress! You'd be adorable!"
"I didn't mean---"
"Now, now. Not another word. I know a place downtown where there's a pink lace dress that'd be just perfect for you. We can charge it to the station. Grab your purse and let's go."
I could see there was no point in arguing. I got in her car, and we went to the dress shop she had in mind.
When I tried the dress on, I could see that it at least covered up my legs a bit more, so I wouldn't feel so exposed. She paid for it, and we went back to the car, me still in pink lace.
"How does it feel to own your first pink dress? It must make you feel like a real woman."
"Sure," I said. I didn't feel much like talking.
"Could I borrow it some time?"
"Of course."
"It's great having a girlfriend like you I can borrow from. It's such fun to share each other's dresses."
"Yeah."
By the time we got back, there wasn't much time for me to prepare. It wasn't too long before I found myself in front of the green screen again, waiting for them to throw it to me for the weather report. Just before they did, I looked down at myself in my pink dress.
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I still couldn't believe I was doing this. A grown man in a pink lace dress. What if someone found out about this? What if my father found out? This was so humiliating.
And then they introduced me, and I picked up my pointer and went right into the weather report. They had warned me they were doing a cute little joke graphic about the end of the world coming. I went along with the joke before we got into the real weather report.
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That damn skirt was so tight, I couldn't take a full stride in it. But I kept smiling, and didn't show my frustration.
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I remained at the green screen as we went into the commercial break, which was only two minutes and a few seconds. I saw Mr. Harper coming over to me during the break. Whatever he had to say to me would have to be said fast.
"Hello. I just wanted to come down and tell you how beautiful you look in that pink dress. I see you took my suggestion about wearing something a little girlier."
I was getting less nervous around him as I got more confident, but I still didn't like the way he looked at me, constantly checking out my figure. I put my hands on my hips and said, "Funny, I didn't get the impression it was a suggestion."
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He smiled, and desire kindled in his gaze. I realized I'd been so busy flirting with the camera that I couldn't turn it off right away. I was flirting with him without really intending to.
He said, "Have dinner with me tonight, April. Your boyfriend doesn't have to know."
"Is that an order, sir?"
"Of course not."
"Then my answer remains the same. I promise I'll tell you if I ever break up with my boyfriend."
"But---"
"We're coming back from commercial, now. They'll expect me over at the desk. Goodbye."
I left without another word.
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It made me feel good to have an excuse to leave immediately and not have to put up with any more of his nonsense, an excuse he couldn't argue with.
The next morning I got up and looked through my dresses, trying to decide what to wear that day. No one told me not to wear girly dresses any more, so at least I didn't have to walk around all day feeling like a hoochie mama in a short dress, with the men staring at my legs as I tried to tug down my skirt in embarrassment.
I picked out an orange and white dress with a full skirt. I wouldn't have to hobble around all day in a tight dress, feeling like my legs were tied together at the knees. I have to admit, it did feel kind of sexy to wear, feeling the skirt brush against my hands as I walked.
The men didn't stare at me quite as much at work, which was fine with me. I was almost comfortable in that loose-fitting dress. When it came time to do the weather report, I flirted with the camera, as usual.
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There was an important story about a typhoon hitting the east coast. We sometimes covered national weather stories, if they were important enough. Unbeknownst to me, the crew had rigged an air hose nearby. I couldn't see it there. So as I began to seriously report this story, all of a sudden I felt my skirt being blown in the air, revealing my slip to everyone watching!
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The anchormen laughed. The crew laughed. I was pissed off, but I knew my job was to hold down my anger and act like I loved their little joke.
"And it looks like some of that big typhoon has found its way into our studio!" I said as I held down my skirt. I moved away from the air hose, and didn't come near it the rest of the report.
When the commercial break came, I strode angrily offstage, my full skirt flying about me as I went, and stomped over to a production assistant.
"I want to talk to Emily!" I said. "Call Emily right now! Tell her I want her down here, right now!"
"I'll call her. I'll tell her just that," she said.
I heard the PA on the phone talking to Emily. She hung up and said, "She said she'll be down after the broadcast. She also reminds you that she's your boss and not the other way around, and maybe you might do well to remember that."
I waited impatiently for her, at the green screen. She took her time getting down there. The studio emptied out as I waited.
When she finally arrived, I said, "You saw it?"
"I heard about it."
"Who the hell do those guys think they are? What do you intend to do about it?"
"Well, the question is, what do YOU intend to do about it? You called this meeting, not me."
"I want you to tell those idiots this isn't junior high school, and I will not put up with any more of their stupid pranks!"
"That sounds good. I think you should tell them that, right away."
"I don't have any authority over them!"
"Listen, April, I don't accept that we women are little children who can't be trusted to stand up for ourselves. If you don't like the way they're treating you, tell them."
"How can you not be mad about this?"
"April, maybe you haven't noticed, but being a woman is just a constant stream of humiliating experiences, one after the other. I know from experience that when you go outside in that dress, it only takes a little gust of wind to blow your skirt up and reveal your slip to everyone. And in high heels it only takes a tiny mistake to fall and find yourself flat on your ass."
"This wasn't any mistake! This was a couple of jerks deliberately humiliating me on broadcast television! And I'm just supposed to put up with it, just because I wear a dress?"
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She laughed.
"What's funny, now?"
"You. You've been a woman three days and you're all ready to become Gloria Steinem. Listen to me, April. There's quite a lot of power in being a pretty girl, if you know how to use it. If you want something from those men, flirt with them a little. Use what you've got."
"I ain't got it!"
"They don't know that. This is between you and them, and I'm not going to intervene."
I looked at her sadly, and said, "Emily, tell me the truth. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me wear dresses? Do you hate me, or something? Or is it all men you hate?"
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She laughed again.
"Well, let's see. The station manager wants me to only hire weathergirls because they're better for ratings. I hired you because I think you're talented. You've got everything you need to be a good weathergirl at this station. Everything but breasts. So I bought you some breasts. Why are you whining so much about wearing a dress? I'm wearing a dress; you don't hear me complaining about it. This is the thanks I get for letting you wear my dresses and pantyhose and lingerie. And for the record, I don't hate men. I love my husband, and we get along just fine together. There's no hidden agenda, here. Maybe I have a little fun with you sometimes, maybe it's fun to dress you up like a girl. Well, get over it. It's just a little fun, and if you can't take it, then quit, but stop blaming everything on me. No one forced you to take this job. I'm not going to protect you from those scary men like you're a little girl. If you don't like being pranked, stand up for yourself! Be a woman!"
And that was it. She wasn't going to help me.
I couldn't see myself standing up to those idiots, me in a pretty dress, them listening to me with their condescending expressions. They'd be more likely to laugh in my face than pay attention to what I wanted. If anything, the pranks might get even worse. I'd just have to be a lot more vigilant in the future, and watch for hidden air hoses. I disabled the air hose for the eleven o'clock broadcast, so I didn't have to worry about that, at least.
The next day I got up and picked out a lovely orange floral chiffon dress. As I put it on and checked myself out in the mirror, I thought of the day before. That air hose. Maybe I should wear a dress with a tighter skirt, that wouldn't blow up so easily. No, I couldn't let those jerks control me. I went out the door in the chiffon dress.
All day long I was enjoying that lovely dress as it flowed and fluttered on my body. Emily caught me enjoying it.
"Oh, yeah, you just hate wearing dresses, don't you, April?"
I didn't reply. OK, so one particular dress was fun to wear. One dress. That doesn't mean I like wearing dresses. At least, I hope not. I enjoyed seeing that movie "ET", but that doesn't make me a science fiction fan.
The weather report went smoothly that day.
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No air hoses this time. And don't think I didn't check.
After the broadcast I was hanging around in front of the green screen, and
Mr. Harper came in.
"Hello, April! I caught the broadcast. I always look forward to seeing
which dress you'll be wearing today. I must say, you look beautiful in
that pretty dress."
I tried to at least look like I enjoyed the compliment. I touched my hair
in a kind of a self-conscious sort of way, and smiled a little.
"Th---thank you," I stammered.
I realized it might've looked like I was flirting with him. I'd have to
watch that.
"And thank you for being such a good sport yesterday. About your skirt
being blown up, and all."
"Nobody told me it was going to happen."
"Well, they wanted to get a good reaction out of you. I hope you realize
it was all in good fun. I wanted to ask you, I just noticed, I've seen a
lot of your dresses being worn by Emily before. I thought maybe it was
just my imagination."
"Just a coincidence."
"Really? It's a pretty big coincidence."
"Well, we just have a similar taste---in dresses?" I said, sounding very
unsure of myself.
"So you haven't been sharing each other's clothes? Not that it's any of my
business. I was just curious."
I tried to come up with a good lie.
"Well, the truth is, Mr. Harper---George---I'm kind of a tomboy. I
actually didn't own any dresses when I got this job. Emily's just helping
me out until I get paid."
"A tomboy? That's hard to believe. You look like quite the girly girl to
me. There's not one bit of you that's even a little bit masculine.
Everywhere I look, you're still a girl. It would be a crime to cover up
those beautiful legs in pants."
"Thank you."
"But I have an unfortunate duty. I've been monitoring the calls coming in
about you, and everyone loves you, but overwhelmingly the men are wanting
to know why you're not wearing something sexy like you did on Monday. So
I'm going to have to ask you to go back to wearing a sexy dress tomorrow."
I groaned.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I already informed Emily of the decision. It's bad
news for me, too. I prefer you like this. But the viewers come first."
"Am I nothing more than a pretty face and a pair of legs?"
"I'm sorry." He put a hand on my shoulder. "Poor kid."
And the next thing I knew he was pulling me in close for another one of
those bonecrushing hugs. I felt like pushing him away, but I meekly
submitted to it.
When he finally consented to release me, I felt like I had to get out of
there immediately before he asked me out to dinner again. I told him I had
to run. I had a date for a late supper with my boyfriend. You can't really
run in high heels, but I came as close to running as I could. I left
quickly, my orange dress fluttering about me as I went.
When I got up the next morning, I looked over the dresses hanging in my
closet.
Mr. Harper wanted me in a sexy dress, but he hadn't said anything about
skirt length. So I passed over those short, tight dresses Emily had given
me. I knew I'd have to wear a dress with a tight skirt, but I wasn't going
to be twitching my butt all over the office in a mini, again. I settled on
a tight red velvet dress of a reasonable length.
When I got to work, both Emily and Mr. Harper looked me over, and
approved.
The weather report went fine that night. Oh, except for one little thing.
My blasted slip was showing throughout the whole report!
I swear it wasn't showing when I checked myself out in the mirror that
morning! I heard the anchormen laughing, but I didn't know why. I had no
choice but to continue with the report.
Finally I realized they were laughing at me. If I were a man I would've
thought my fly was open, or something. Well, I am a man, but they didn't
know that. Just as a reflex I looked down at myself, and that's when I saw
my slip showing. I quickly tugged down my skirt in embarrassment.
When my report was over one of the anchormen said, "Stay right there,
April. Folks, I know we've all been concerned about tornado watches and
tornado warnings here in Southern California, but now we've seen that
there's something even more disturbing to be on the watch for. Ladies and
gentlemen, may I present the first ever---Slip Watch 2017!"
And a graphic popped up!
I couldn't believe they'd been able to come up with that graphic so
quickly! I know I was supposed to act like I enjoyed the little joke and
be all cute and girly about it, but I couldn't do it. I just lost it!
"That's not funny!" I screeched. "Knock it off, you jerkoffs!"
A pall seemed to settle over the studio. Everyone stopped laughing and
looked embarrassed. Both of the anchormen started nervously mumbling
something, but I didn't wait around to hear what it was.
After the broadcast I waited by the green screen. I knew one or the other
of them would be coming down to see me. It turned out to be both of them.
Mr. Harper said, "April, you are in a lot of trouble."
"They shouldn't have done that to me," I said.
"Quite apart from the fact that this isn't cable, you embarrassed and
humiliated our anchor team."
"Like they humiliated me?"
"That's different."
"Why? Because I'm a woman?"
"I don't intend to debate this, April."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Harper."
"Sorry? Oh, no. What you are is fired."
Emily interjected, "George, you can't keep firing weathergirls every time
they make a little mistake."
"Oh, can't I? And here I thought I was the boss."
"She's only been here a week. Give her another chance. She'll apologize to
them on the air."
"That's right," I said. "I will. I can't afford to lose this job."
"My decision is final."
I put my hands on my dress and tugged my skirt down. I fixed him with a
flirty gaze, and gave him a little smile. I'd never tried to flirt with
him before, at least not intentionally, but I was trying now.
"George," I said, "did I mention that I just broke up with my boyfriend?"
He looked interested.
"Did you really, now?"
"Couldn't we talk about this? I'm sure some other solution can be found.
I'd be glad to come out to your place and discuss the matter. I'm sorry I
was naughty and let my slip show. Maybe you might have to spank me."
I displayed my rear end to him.
Emily was making some sort of a gasping, gurgling, choking kind of sound.
"Well," he said, "perhaps that might be arranged. Why don't you come over
tomorrow night for dinner? Mind you, I can't make any promises at this
point."
"Great! It's a date!"
I gave him my hand to shake, in that feminine way I've seen women do. He
left, but Emily stayed behind. She checked to be sure he was out of
earshot before she spoke.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!" she exclaimed.
"I'm doing what you told me to do. Flirting to get my way."
"I never told you to go over to his house in a dress, for crying out
loud!"
"I can't lose this job. I have to find some way to negotiate."
"Negotiate! What the hell do you have to negotiate with? The only thing he
wants is just exactly what you ain't got! What happens if he tries to
force himself on you?"
"Oh, please. Just because I wear dresses, you think I can't defend myself
against that little stick figure?"
"And you think beating up your boss will get you your job back?"
"Fine. You tell me. What do I do? I need this job. How else do I get it
back?"
"Listen, if he lifts your skirt and finds the last turkey in the shop,
you're not ratting me out. Do not tell him I knew about this. I didn't
have to give you this job, you know. Maybe I made you wear dresses, but
going over to his house, flirting to get your job back, that's on you. I'm
not responsible for this disaster. This is all your fault, you know. You
should've worn a shorter slip, maybe a chemise."
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not an expert on lingerie after five days of wearing
dresses. Why didn't you tell me it was showing?"
"It wasn't showing, before."
"Just another one of the many humiliations we women have to put up with."
"Yeah, sure. Try going through elementary school in a dress, with boys
flipping up your skirt all day, and not even puberty to give you any power
over them."
On the eleven o'clock broadcast, I apologized to the anchor team on air,
just like I said I was going to. Unfortunately, they got to use that as an
excuse to reshow the whole embarrassing scene. Which made me mad, but at
least I controlled my temper, that time.
That evening, when I got home, I noticed a message waiting for me on my
answering machine. I played it.
It was from a local station I had applied to, saying that they had an
unexpected opening, and they'd be glad to hire me as their new weatherman.
Weather-MAN!
I kicked my heels into the air! No more dresses, lingerie or pantyhose.
Yay!
But the next day, I decided, no, one more dress. Just one more.
I looked through my dresses, looking for something cute and girly that Mr.
Harper would go for. I settled on a pretty low-cut sleeveless white floral
dress with a full skirt. When the time came to go there for dinner, I put
it on.
Mr. Harper greeted me at his door with a smile and a leer. He said he like
my dress.
"Thank you, George. I could never wear it for work, of course, because of
all the green in it."
I spread my skirt wide, to show him. I can't believe he actually had green
wallpaper. I never can get away from that green screen.
"You look absolutely beautiful," he said.
"Oh, you are so sweet! I've never known a man who liked me better in a
dress like this than in a short skirt. I guess you must not like looking
at my legs. You know, in a pretty dress like this, I just feel like doing
a twirl."
"Oh, well don't let me stop you."
"You want to see me do a twirl?"
"I'd love to see you do a pretty twirl."
So I obliged him.
"You just can't stop showing your slip, can you?"
"What do you mean? Did you see my slip just then? Well, it's not like you
don't know what it looks like, by now. I suppose I should look around here
to see if there's an air hose to blow up my skirt."
"Nope, no air hose. Not this time. You know, it's not just your dress I
like. I'm sorry I never said this before, but I love your hair. I love
your sexy hair."
"Oh, thank you, George!" I touched my wig tenderly.
"I'm so glad you're willing to call me George, now. You know, dinner is
almost ready. I thought, being as it's a beautiful day here in California-
--"
"For a change."
"We could eat outside! I've got a picnic table set up in the back. What do
you think?"
"Sounds wonderful."
I helped him carry the food outside, and we sat down to eat. I tucked my
full skirt under my rear end and tried to get comfortable on the wooden
bench, which wasn't easy.
A woman is going to find herself eating an awful lot of lipstick. My
lipstick came off onto the lettuce of the salad as I ate. I bet women
probably eat about four pounds of lipstick a year.
When we were done, I had a look around his garden, exploring the place.
"In that dress, you look like you could be a part of this garden," he
said. "You are so beautiful in that dress."
"If I'm so beautiful, why am I fired?"
"Oh, I have a feeling you might not be so fired by the time the night is
over. Depending on how things go."
Creep.
"You are so beautiful, April. I know it's not your real first name, but it
should be. You are just like a breath of springtime."
"Thank you. You make me feel so wonderful with all your compliments, and I
feel so feminine in this dress. I feel like such a nature girl in it."
"You are truly a natural woman."
"Why don't we get the dishes cleaned up? They're not going to clean
themselves."
I helped him bring the dishes into the kitchen. He left them in the sink.
"Let 'em soak," I said. "We're not kids. We know why I'm here. Let's not
waste any more time."
I walked toward him slowly, deliberately, enticingly, my hands brushing
against my skirt as I went.
I stopped very close to him, just a kiss away, and I said, "You are the
most miserable, pathetic excuse for a human being I have ever seen, using
your position to get laid because it's not going to happen any other way.
I wouldn't kiss you or touch you in a million years, even if I wasn't a
man."
"You're---what?" he asked.
"I'm a man," I said in my natural male voice. I lifted up my wig just a
bit to show him, then replaced it.
"What the hell! What the are you doing here? What the hell are you doing
in that dress?"
"Oh, so now you don't like my dress? A minute ago you were telling me how
pretty I was in it."
"You son of a bitch!" he said. He lifted his hand to strike me, and I
easily blocked it and knocked him flat on his ass.
"Want any more? How'd you like your friends to find out you got beat up by
a man in a dress?"
"Get out of here! You don't seriously think this will get you your job
back, do you? I will not submit to blackmail!"
"You can take this job and shove it. I got hired elsewhere. And by the
way, Emily knew all about this. It was her idea."
"Get out."
"Gladly. Sure you don't want to tell me a few more times how pretty I am
in this dress? You just remember, for the rest of your life, that you were
attracted to a man, and that I knocked you down without even getting a run
in my nylons. Don't get up. I'll let myself out."
I went home, took off the dress I was wearing, and hung it up carefully.
Emily would be wanting it back, no doubt.
Sunday evening I was sitting around watching television in jeans and a T-
shirt, when I heard an angry knock at the door. I took a look through the
peephole. It was Emily.
When I opened the door, she said, "You didn't have to get me fired! You
didn't have to tell Mr. Harper that I knew all about it! It was the one
thing I asked you not to do. You just remember that!"
"I'll remember. Stay right there. I'll get your dresses."
"Keep 'em. You'll be needing them."
"What?"
"Check your email."
Now, what did she mean by that? When she left I looked at my emails, and
there was one from the station manager, the guy who had offered me the new
job. The subject line read: Dear April.
I opened it:
Emily, your news director, tracked me down and explained all about who you
are. I didn't know I was hiring THE April Showers! That clip of you on
YouTube getting your skirt blown up is a hoot! I love your character!
She's so feisty and fun, and very, very sexy. I'd like to emphasize your
sex appeal by putting you in short skirts a lot more, like the miniskirt
you wore on Monday. You should wear that your first day. You've got great
legs, why not show 'em off? Emily said you would probably need a salary
advance to buy some more dresses. That's fine, but I need to approve
whatever you buy. Anything that's not short enough is going back. If you
don't mind, I'd like to keep your little secret around the station. The
other men will be much more at ease if they think you're an actual woman.
I must say, this is all pretty unusual, but there's no denying your
popularity. Well, that's it. See you on Monday. Oh, I hope you're not
going to be tiresome about this. I'm hiring April Showers, you understand?
No one else. See you!
NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!