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Ctrl Alt Defeat: A Secretary's Takeover 11
🕑 Added 2024-07-31 16:35:28 +0000 UTCChapter 11: Steps of Change
Mia strode confidently out of the hotel, warmly greeting the doorman with a "Good morning." It was a typical late autumn day - the last leaves clinging stubbornly to the trees and a crisp chill hanging in the air, though not uncomfortably cold. Dressed in jeans, a cashmere sweater, and ankle boots with a low heel, Mia was the epitome of smart casual. Glancing back towards the hotel, she caught sight of her former boss, Morgan Wright, looking decidedly less comfortable. His body swayed and bounced as he tottered towards her in his sky-high Mary Jane pumps.
His outfit - a metallic gold-coloured sleeveless dress with a round neckline and a form-fitting bodice that flared into a pleated A-line skirt - clung to his padded figure. His plump thighs, sheathed in thick, flesh-coloured tights, shimmered beneath the hem. Accessories included a small clutch purse and hoop earrings, and his bold hair and makeup demanded attention.
“Do hurry up, Mia,” she called out, watching as the feminized man’s heavily made-up face contorted into a frustrated pout. He advanced with a determined strut, his expression one of defiance.
Mia watched, amused yet impressed, as Mr Wright tackled the hotel steps, approaching with an unexpected grace despite his towering heels. “There, that wasn't so bad, was it?” She commented as she began walking by his side, matching his slow pace.
The feminized man shook his head in frustration. “A nightmare, that’s what I’d call this,” he muttered sullenly. “Why are we even out here? It’s freezing.”
"Don't be so dramatic," Mia retorted with a smirk. "It’s not that cold, and you’ll warm up after a few blocks in those heels." Mr Wright scoffed in response.
"We’re here to practice walking," Mia continued. "And before you say we could have done this in the hotel room," she added, mimicking Mr Wright's higher-pitched voice, "that simply wouldn’t work. Walking on the uneven, unpredictable ground outside poses a completely different challenge from the flat, carpeted floors inside. You need to get used to it."
"I wouldn't need to get used to anything if you'd allow me to wear lower heels, or better yet, call off this farce," Mr Wright replied, carefully placing his stiletto-heeled feet down to avoid gaps in the side pavement.
“That ship has sailed, sweety” Mia chuckled, glancing at the feminized man struggling beside her. “You only have yourself to blame for the heels. "This is the heel height you deemed appropriate for a secretary, remember? And now that you’ve worn shoes like this to the previous meeting, it's going to be expected of you going forward.”
Mr Wright took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his large faux breasts rising and his long ponytail swinging. “Look, I admit, I might have been a little… short-sighted in the past. I didn’t realize how much of a burdensome dressing like this could be. I’m… sorry if I put unnecessary pressure on you.”
Hearing an apology from Morgan Wright's oversized lips, caused Mia to stop dead in her tracks - it was the first time she had ever heard him utter those words. To anyone! “Say that again,” she said, a look of surprise appearing on her face.
“I’m sorry,” Mr Wright repeated, the words coming out gruffly, clearly not sitting comfortably with him.
“Well, thank you for the apology. That shows growth,” Mia said, her smile warmer than usual.
“So… we can stop this?” Mr Wright asked, his long eyelashes batting in a way that almost made Mia feel sorry for him.
“Stop?” Mia echoed with a light chuckle. “No, one apology doesn’t erase years of misogynistic behaviour. It doesn’t change the fact that my future is tied to your company, and without a deal, it gets flushed down the toilet.”
“But… but… you can’t possibly expect me to go through with this madness. To work for that man as his…” Mr Wright faltered.
“Secretary,” Mia finished for him firmly. “I do. Until the papers are signed, you will be everything you wanted me to be and more. So, focus and get your head in the game.”
Mr Wright's face fell, his brow furrowing and his lips pursing into a deep pout, the very picture of devastation. “Ten minutes up this street. Well, ten minutes for me,” Mia continued. “There’s a Starbucks. Get there before I finish my coffee, and we’ll take a taxi back to the hotel later. If you can't make it on time, you’re walking back. And don’t even think about taking off those shoes. If there’s a run in the bottom of those tights, you’ll walk the rest of the day until your feet fall off.” With that, Mia turned, her stride confident and unwavering as she left her former boss behind, his muted protests fading into the background as she didn't look back.
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Sitting outside the coffee shop with a chai latte in hand, Mia chuckled to herself as Mr Wright approached. His makeup, a morning masterpiece by Madame Maria, still looked flawless, but his face beneath betrayed signs of his tiring ordeal. After mincing through the city for the last twenty minutes, the physical toll was evident - Mia knew the discomfort of high heels all too well, even if she had never endured anything as challenging as the towering pumps Mr Wright was now shambling towards her on. Mentally, he seemed just as frazzled. Likely turning heads with every click of his torturous heels while the flared hem of his minidress danced around his chunky thighs, he was an uncommon sight on an early Thursday afternoon, and it showed in his flustered demeanour.
(See image 21)
Staggering up, he flopped down into the chair opposite Mia, shooting her a furious glare. "Perfect timing," Mia announced, finishing her coffee with one final gulp and placing the empty cup on the table. "Time to go," she added, rising from her seat.
The look on Mr Wright's face - a blend of confusion and outrage - was almost comical. "Go! Right now?" he exclaimed. "I've just got here."
"It's not my fault you took your time," Mia responded, the irony of the situation not lost on her as she recalled the countless times that her demanding former employer had done the same to her after running around doing errands for him. "What kept you?"
The expression on Mr Wright's face darkened as if he was on the verge of exploding with rage. "Never mind, it's not important," Mia quickly added before the man could make a scene, echoing a line he had often used on her. "I don't need to know the personal details of your life. “Come on, Mia, I have something I want to show you."
"Show me?" Mr Wright asked, wary of yet another surprise. "What is it?"
"Well, get off your lazy butt, and you'll see," Mia quipped, thoroughly enjoying the role reversal. "Or are you planning to stay here?"
She watched as Mr Wright sighed, then slowly eased himself back onto his aching feet with a groan. "Is it far?" he asked in a defeated tone while shaking his head.
"No. It’s just over there," Mia pointed out, gesturing towards their destination. "Come on."
Setting off, Mr Wright followed Mia across the street, his bewildered expression intensifying with every step. When they reached a nondescript door, Mia pulled a key fob from her purse, held it against a reader, and the door sprung open. She entered with authoritative strides, leaving Mr Wright trailing behind as he peered nervously down the narrow, dimly lit corridor lined with mailboxes. "What are we doing here?" he asked, his voice tinged with unease.
Mia stepped through another door and offered no reply. With a heavy sigh, Mr Wright followed, only to be confronted by a daunting flight of stairs. He groaned at the sight before glancing down at his cramping feet, acutely aware that his towering shoes would make the ascent a gruelling test of endurance. By the time he reached the fifth floor, he was gasping for air, his sides pinching painfully with each sharp breath drawn through the constricting corset. Mia was waiting, holding a door open with a delighted smile. “There you are,” she chirped. “This way.” She disappeared inside without waiting for him.
With legs like jelly, Mr Wright staggered out of the stairwell into a corridor lined with numbered doors. Spotting one open, he trudged into a small apartment, immediately hit by the smell of fresh pastel pink paint that adorned the walls. “What is this place?” he squeaked out, his head swivelling to take in every detail of the femininely decorated apartment.
“This really is a great location,” Mia remarked, gazing out the large window facing the street with an eerily calm voice. “Just a ten-minute walk to the office, and there’s even a place to grab a coffee for the boss on the way.” She turned slowly, a sinister grin spreading across her face. “It’s not the luxury you’ve grown accustomed to, but it’s cosy enough for a secretary.”
As Mia’s the implications of Mia's words dawned on him, Mr Wright felt a cold dread seep into his bones. His shiny pink lips parted slightly, his ability to speak momentarily lost. "You mean... you expect me to live here? Alone and like this?"
(See image 22)
Mia paused, letting the silence stretch just a moment before speaking. "You won’t be alone," she finally said, her voice steady. "Adjusting to your new life will require assistance. So, I’ve arranged for a flatmate for you." As she finished her declaration, the click-clack of high heels on hardwood echoed ominously through the room. Mr Wright’s heart plummeted as a familiar voice rounded the corner.
"Darling!" Madame Maria's deep voice boomed, rich with excitement. "Isn’t this place just the cutest? I can’t wait to see you blossom here." Mr Wright’s eyes flicked to Mia, who had, an undeniable glint of triumph in her eyes.
"I don’t understand," he stammered, his voice laced with despair. "Why would I stay here? What’s wrong with the hotel?"
"Oh, Mia," Mia responded, her tone almost patronizing as Madame Maria strutted over to her side. "Secretaries don’t stay in posh hotels for months on end. It simply wouldn’t be proper."
"Months!" Mr Wright gasped, his voice rising in horror.
"Well, that all depends on you now, doesn't it?" Mia continued calmly. "The quicker you can convince the Hortons that your idea works, the quicker we can get the papers signed and wrap this up. So, you’d better listen to Madame Maria; she’s going to teach you all the skills you need to be a flirty, helpful little secretary. And you only have a week to prepare."
"And where will you be?" Mr Wright’s voice cracked as he asked.
"I’ve got some business to attend to back home, but I’ll be back in a few days to check on your progress," Mia explained.
Madame Maria, now practically buzzing with enthusiasm, stepped closer. "Oh, this is going to be such fun, darling," she gushed, clapping her hands together. "We'll arrange a little desk for you in the corner, and I’ll whip you into shape in no time."
Mr Wright opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. Instead, he turned away, brought his long-nailed hands up to cover his mouth, and let out a muffled scream into his palms, his body shaking with the force of his silent outcry.
Comments
Nicegent42
I can only imagine the flirting being helpful to convince a man to do something, but also having some less than desired ramifications for the disguised man.
