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Riley felt like she was sitting in a time capsule.

From her seat; a scratched-up plastic chair, she surveys the waiting room around her. Its carpet was flattened and tamped-down after decades of use; a distinct path of faded material cutting from one side of the room to the other. The walls were covered in wooden panelling; upon which a large, circular clock slowly ticked the seconds away. Beside the whopping two chairs it afforded for its visitors was a plastic fern; the styrofoam 'dirt' securing it having grown sunken and pitted. The ceiling above bore a single fixture for a fluorescent light - the pale lighting casting a sterile and anemic tone across the entire room; and highlighting the yellowish nature of what Riley could only assume was supposed to be a white ceiling.

The color, she assumed, was due to the other occupant of the waiting room. Seated at a small desk on the left side of the room was a secretary. Her desk was rather neatly organized - a stack of papers on one side, a coffee maker on the other, with a few niknaks sitting in between. Among them most prominent thing upon her desk was her ashtray; a few extinguished butts sitting within, and a still-smoldering one perched above, wedged between the secretary's fingers.

Riley wasn't aware you could still smoke indoors like that; but even if it wasn't allowed, she wasn't quite sure this woman got the memo. She seemed no younger than sixty; her greying hair set in a curly perm, and her eyes hidden behind thick horn rimmed glasses. She pored over a stack of papers before her boredly - paying Riley no mind as she waited. The brief exchange Riley had with the woman was rather terse - but she supposed there was a reason for that.

With any luck, Riley was there to replace her.

About a month ago, she never would have imagined sitting in a place like this. Previously; Riley held a position as a secretary at the technology firm New Horizons. She'd spent the better part of three years working her way up in the company - starting from a simple clerk to the illustrious position of... Well, secretary; but she was secretary to the CFO. It paid more than generously - even if the work wasn't easy, she always felt like it was too good to be true...

And, about a month ago, it turned out that it was. Apparently her boss was implicated in some sort of money laundering scheme - as involved as she was in his professional life, the first she'd ever seen anything suspicious was when the police showed up looking for him. _He_even seemed confused; but she didn't know what to believe. With him gone, she was a little concerned for her future with the company... But even in her most cynical predictions, she didn't anticipate what was to come.

After being grilled about and eventually exonerated of any part in her boss' scheme, Riley was unceremoniously let go. Even her proven innocence wasn't enough to keep her safe - but moreover, the nature of her firing hung over her like a curse. She sought other jobs - but despite her qualifications and history, the stigma of the New Horizons scandal was still fresh, and nobody was interested in taking her on.

Spending a month jobless wasn't crippling - but Riley knew full well that she couldn't keep it up forever. So, she set her sights lower with every successive application; spiralling ever downward until she found herself in this smokey, dated waiting room.

Riley felt like she was sitting in a time capsule - not merely because of the look of the room, or the look of the secretary; but because time seemed to drag on - minute after minute - as she awaited her most recent interview. Working as a secretary for... Bruno's Hardware... Obviously wasn't her first choice... Or second, or tenth... But this was where she'd ended up. She arrived fifteen minutes in advance of her interview with the plant's owner, but as she quickly discovered, the owner was rather strict about time.

Since her appointment was at 11; she had to wait until 11 on the dot..

Seconds crawled by like minutes. Minutes crawled by like hours. Even the rhythmic ticking of the clock felt much too generous for the amount of time Riley felt was passing - and what made it even more unbearable was the scent of smoke lingering around the room. Riley really wasn't a smoker - so the secretary's insistence on doing so in such a cramped area made her more than a little uncomfortable. After the first few minutes, she politely coughed a couple times - but it failed to dissuade the older woman any. After a further few minutes of reconsideration - she figured that it wouldn't have made a difference anyway.

Riley watched the clock slowly tick down - until finally striking 11. For as much as Riley had been anticipating it, there was... Appropriately no grand fanfare - nothing grander than the shrill warble of an intercom activating. As the second hand progresses into the new hour, a tinny voice emanating from the secretary's desk - and, though muffled, through the nearby door - squawks "Send her in."

Riley had already stood up by the time the secretary croaked "Ms. Schlotz will see you now." Offering the older woman an affirming nod, she moved over to the door, opening it hastily.

The first thing Riley noticed about the office was that it largely shared the dated decor of the waiting room that preceded it. Wood paneled walls, a coarse and tamped-down carpet, and a desk sitting at the opposite end. There were a few filing cabinets on one side; and a liquor cabinet on the other - not too far from the desk. Behind the desk; windows overlooked the warehouse floor - partially obscured by the racks and bundled-up palettes, which reached well up into the ceiling. Riley's view, from her side of the room, was obscured further by a rather tall, leather chair - in which sat her prospective new employer.

"Ms. Schlotz?" Riley chimes, taking a few steps inward - following the scent of stale, but much less smoke-scented air. Following a nod of affirmation from the woman before her, Riley smiles. "My name is Riley Walters - thank you for having me today."

Hillary Schlotz was a woman Riley had seen the likes of quite often in her career. She was older than Riley by a matter of decades; something she wore rather plainly on her drawn, stern face. The look she gave Riley as she approached was one of appraisal, first and foremost - cold eyes running across the prospective employee as she neared the desk. Glasses with thin frames sat upon her face; and as Riley took a position beside a seat on her side of the desk, she noticed a mole upon Ms. Schlotz's lip.

"Have a seat." she begins coldly, looking down from Riley and over to a stack of papers upon her desk. As Riley abides, she gathers a stack of papers in her hands. "I've been looking over your resume, Ms. Walters-"

Riley winced a bit. Admittedly, she didn't much like being referred to by her surname. She was much more at ease as a Riley than a Walters; the latter evoked imagery of balding old men - which, truthfully, was the last thing Riley wanted on her mind. She couldn't tell if her prospective employer caught her reaction - but regardless, Ms. Shlotz continues.

"And from what I've seen, it would be rather difficult for a woman with your qualifications to disappoint me." She glances over the papers again, before laying them on her desk. "Difficult, but never impossible. In the interest of expediency - how much do you know about the manufacture, shipping, and sales of tools and hardware?"

That was a question Riley had expected, but not exactly wanted to address. She'd been hoping to give a flippant response and transition into speaking about her more positive qualities... But between her humorless facade and boring gaze, Riley knew better than to try and get away with that. "Only what I garnered from market research to prepare for this interview." she admits. "I'll admit, I don't exactly have the most... Blue-collar background."

"No first hand experience, then?" Ms. Schlotz muses - to which Riley nods. With a sigh, the stern woman sits back, remarking "As I said - not impossible..." She raises a hand to her chin, thrumming softly. "Hmph. I'll have you know that I have very high standards for any prospective employees. While it's far from me to discount your experience within your field - I feel as though you're unequipped to address my demands."

Riley felt a chill run across her entire body. Christ - this placed seemed like such an easy in. She was already on a streak of lost opportunities - but this one was special. It wasn't because of her reputation - it was just because she didn't give a shit about hammers and nails. "Ms. Schlotz, I-"

"Hush." she rasps sternly. "Don't interrupt me." She jabs a finger accusingly at Riley, causing her to flinch back in her seat. "As I was saying... I feel as though you're unequipped now- but I can understand from your chosen career path that you may not have been given the chance to operate in a..." She chuckles darkly. "Blue-collar environment. It's not that I'm entirely unwilling to hire you, Ms. Walters - but this is an issue I wish to address before entrusting you with secretarial responsibilities."

Riley tilts her head. She opens her mouth to say something - but, recalling the woman's prior outburst, clams up.

Recognizing this, Ms. Schlotz smiles. "I'd like you to work in my warehouse for a brief period, to gain some first-hand experience. To understand the relevance of the numbers you'll be poring over - and understand the logistics of the work involved. Would this be agreeable?"

Truthfully, this was the first time Riley had ever heard of such a proposition, but she supposed it wasn't unfounded. Perhaps she didn't quite think it'd be _critical_to a position as a secretary, but... "How long would it be - and if I go through with it; would you be willing to hire me for my... Desired position?"

Ms. Schlotz waves her off. "Only a matter of days - a week, at most. You won't be pressed with any disproportionately intensive work, and you'll be compensated for your time. Following that... You have my word that I will take you on as a full-time employee."

Riley perks up. Beyond anything the woman said - she understood the solitary sentiment that she got the job. "That's great, then!" she chimes.

Leafing through some more papers on her desk - Ms. Schlotz withdraws a contract - sliding it over the desk toward Riley. Immediately, she could see that it was... Pre-signed; a cursive Hillary Schlotz already scrawled upon the page in vibrant red ink. The woman - Riley's new boss, she supposed - offered her a pen, and a cold smile. "Sign here, then."

Starved for the satisfaction of success - Riley scribbles her signature on the nearest dotted line she could find. As soon as her pen leaves the page, Hillary snatches it, already rolling it up.

"Excellent!" she says boldly. "Your first shift begins on Monday - 10AM sharp. You'll have some other employees showing you the ropes." She extends her hand, which Riley eagerly shakes. "And I'm sure you'll fit right in."

After exchanging thanks and goodbyes - Riley turns to leave - only for Hillary to pipe up once more.

"Oh, and Ms. Walters?" she begins - once more snatching Riley's attention. "Try to dress appropriately."

Riley felt... Odd, when she returned to the warehouse. Whereas before she was dressed in a nice blouse, a skirt, and tights... Today, she entered clad in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. Admittedly - it wasn't exactly too far out of her casual wardrobe, and she supposed it was appropriate, but... With as long as she'd been working as a secretary, it was odd to call such a getup her work clothes.

Her first stop was the office - where she was, once more, greeted by the older secretary. Her sole solace was that she wasn't forced to linger any longer than a couple minutes - by now, she knew how... Punctual Ms. Schlotz could be. At 10 on the dot, the stern woman stepped out of her office to greet Riley - though far from warmly.

"Good morning. Follow me." she began curtly, leading Riley out of the office and onto the warehouse floor.

Observing it from the vantage of Hillary's office and seeing it from the ground-level were two completely different experiences. Looking up at the racks and stacked palettes, she felt a sense of dread settling in - no matter how solid or secure they were, she felt as though they could come down on her at any minute.

One thing she hadn't seen yesterday, oddly enough, were any of the employees-... Rather, her coworkers for the moment. Although, as she mused over what her responsibilities would be while she was on the job, she found the mental image she'd conjured of the typical employee of Bruno's Hardware to be fairly spot-on.

While ranging in age, the men she found working in the warehouse seemed to share a few similar qualities. Among them - they all seemed rather strong. They weren't hulking or visibly muscular - rather, they had bulk; burly arms covered in hair, stocky builds, and rotund stomachs that bulged out the overalls they all seemed adorned with. Each one had a nametag on it - but, confusingly, all of them were labelled 'BRUNO'.

Every time she passed an employee, Riley began to slow her pace - only to notice that Hillary wasn't stopping, herself. The deeper they went, the more Riley began to notice a... Disparity in gender. As far as she was aware - she, Hillary, and the old secretary were the only three women in the building. 'Maybe Ms. Schlotz has a type?' she thought - unable to stifle a snicker.

When Hillary finally stopped, Riley found herself standing before a metal door with a sign bolted into it - one displaying a white body on a blue background. "Here we are," Ms. Schlotz begins, gesturing to the door. "This is the locker room. Before you begin, it's important that you store all of your sensitive belongings in here - and that you put on your uniform."

"Uniform?" Riley challenges. "The overalls?"

Hillary nods. With that, Hillary begins to walk away. "I'll send an employee to fetch you for your... Orientation. Treat him with the same respect you would show me."

Left with little more than confusion,Riley begrudgingly obeys-

But as soon as she opens the door, she finds herself regretting her decision to do so. Before she sees anything on the other side - she _smells_something. Rank and cloying, she detects the scent of sweat hanging poignantly in the air.

Wincing as she steps inward, she follows the stench into a rather open room - lining the walls are two sets of lockers... None of which seem to be locked. Some lack doors entirely - but the rest hang open, leaving their contents exposed. Most have a set of overalls hanging in them - others, jackets or bags... But a couple seem to hold dirty laundry. Riley winces at the sight of a pair of off-white underwear hanging on a hook.

More off putting than the laundry, however, was the employees' taste in decor. Of the lockers that maintained doors - she could see photos and posters taped onto them; often overlapping on-top of one another. While the images they displayed were... Diverse... They maintained one similar motif:

They were all of nude women.

Just as she'd felt in the waiting room - Riley felt like she was in a time capsule of an era she wanted no part in...

But, woefully, she resigned herself to her... New job.

She stored her purse in a locker tucked off in a corner - and withdrew a pair of overalls. They didn't seem clean, but then again - none of them did. The scent of sweat was strong upon them - but relative to the rest of the room, they weren't... That bad. For a moment, she felt the temptation to drop them, storm out the door and leave, never to return, but...

It was only after she realized she'd already stuck one leg into her uniform that she figured the thought was irrelevant. She hiked the overalls up and fastened them - as much as she could, baggy as they were. Starting to feel queasy, lingering in the locker room, she exited.

Awaiting her outside was a burly, bearded man - one who greeted her much more amicably than Hillary had. "Hey - Walters, is it?" he asks - and, though she still hadn't gotten used to being referred to as such, Riley nodded. "Nice. I'm Bruce-" He reaches out and snags Riley's hand - locking it in a firm handshake. "Nice to meetcha."

Feebly, Riley tries to match his vigor - but feels like her arm is a wet noodle compared to his. When her hand is released, she can feel sweat and grit upon it, but more than she's sickened about that, she feels... A little frail. "Nice to... Meet you."

Bruce snaps her from her reverie with a heavy pat on the back - one that reverberates through her body. "Hey - don't feel too bad. After a week workin' here, we'll put some muscle on ya." Before she could protest his assertion, he continues. "Alright, so the boss wants me to show ya the ropes. I'll show ya the high-demand stuff first - there, you'll get a feel for what's gonna be movin' the most - what you'll be movin' the most."

While it was tempting to dwell on how odd she was feeling... It was much easier for her to focus on the job at hand. The sooner she got this over with, the better.

Riley followed Bruce from one corner of the warehouse to the other - familiaring her with where certain items were stored. It was pretty quickly that she learned that their use of machines was... Fairly limited - only breaking out proper equipment when it was absolutely necessary. While concerns of safety came to mind - they were quickly extinguished when Riley found herself pressed into action. She found herself tasked with... Little more than picking stuff up, moving it from shelf to shelf, loading it into boxes, pushing it along in carts... It was all simple work - but it certainly worked up a sweat.

Four hours passed in the blink of an eye - after which she was rewarded with a lunch break. She'd packed her own lunch, but as she was eating it, she quickly found it to be insubstantial. She wasn't sure whether she was uncharacteristically hungry or if she'd just been working up an appetite - but by the time she finished, she was still hungry. At the very least, Bruce was nice enough to offer her half of his hoagie. He offered her a beer too - but beyond simply being baffled he was allowed to drink one...

She just didn't feel like she needed one.

Four more hours of lessons interspersed with hauling boxes passed quickly - and soon, Riley found herself in the malodorous locker room once more. As she stripped out of the overalls, she felt... Strange, in her clothes. It was like something about them had changed - but it was something she couldn't quite place. Overall, it felt like her clothes hugged her body tighter - but Riley couldn't tell why. Lifting up her shirt, she saw the same little paunch of a tummy she'd always had - rolling up her sleeves, her arms were as thick as they'd always been. A little hairier than she recalled, but she...

Wait, when did she shave last...?

It... Didn't matter anyway, she told herself. She didn't really look at herself too often like that. Before she left for the day, she placed a hand on one of her biceps - they ached from the amount of work, but... They felt a little firmer. Maybe she'd have to check herself out a little more, now... Especially if Bruno was going to make good on his promise.

As Riley left for the day, she felt oddly eager to return tomorrow - after all, they'd only covered about half of the warehouse.

Riley felt... Oddly anxious when she arrived at the warehouse the next day - but she couldn't put her finger on why. When she got up this morning, she could tell that she felt weird. As she went about her morning routine, she felt like something always got in the way - things that cost her time, bit by bit. First, her bra didn't seem to fit; and neither did her underwear. Putting her jeans on was an uphill battle - when she_swore_ her thighs weren't any thicker than they usually were.

What was_thicker, noticeably so, was her hair. Not on the top of her head - in fact, that seemed just a little _shorter - but instead, there was a dusting of hair across her arms and legs. Beneath her arms, she had two light patches - but frankly she couldn't remember when she didn't - but most noticeably, her pubes had grown in and grown out to form a light treasure trail on her stomach. If she had the time and motivation, Riley felt like she would've done something...

But she had neither - not after shredding her shirt in an attempt to put it on. On one hand, she felt... Well, tough having done so; like a regular Mr. Universe... But she felt more frustration than pride - and more of both than she felt confusion.

She arrived at work in a white tee-shirt and the only pair of jeans she could get to fit. Rather than finding Ms. Schlotz, Riley went straight into the warehouse, breezing by the locker room.

It was much as she left it - dingy and rank. It didn't seem like anybody had an individual locker, she found - but they seemed keen enough to share theirs with the other employees. Such a sense of... Community inspired Riley, in part - and made her the slightest bit more comfortable tossing her bag in and taking her uniform out.

Before she left, her eyes caught on one of the, eh... 'Models' plastered to her chosen locker for the day. It was a photo of a woman taken from behind - she was looking behind herself; presenting her ass - unwittingly, Riley let out a shrill whistle of appreciation.

Stunned at her own actions, she hurried out of the locker room - tracking down Bruno. What greeted her was another long day of learning and hauling... But admittedly, she found the latter a little more engrossing than the former. There wasn't much to learn about the low-demand stuff; but moving it was a bit of a different experience. It took strength - strength she, despite her own expectations, seemed to have.

Hefting a box full of hammers from one side of the warehouse to the other earned her a cheer from her coworkers - who she'd already begun to form a bond with. She took Bruno up on sharing a beer over the course of their break... And another one after that. She couldn't quite tell whether to attribute how fast her shift went from there to the booze or the sheer mindlessness of it.

By the time her shift was up, she still felt a little buzzed and happy. This job had already been a lot more enjoyable than she expected - hard work, but work that let her flex her muscles. She didn't really get to show off much back when she worked at...

Eh, wherever she was before. Besides - she should've known from the start that she'd fit right in. She had a pretty similar build to the guys - stocky build, a little on the thick side... But more muscle than fat, she swore.

When she returned to the locker room, she bent down to take off her snug overalls...

And she felt her jeans finally give way - shredding down the crack of her ass. With a low, bellowing cry of "Aawwww, shit." she reached into the confines of her uniform to try and pull out the remnants...

But, as she pawed around; just past her stomach, she noticed something... Different.

Her underwear had torn along with her jeans - exposing her privates to midair, but... There was something strange. Dragging her calloused and gritty fingers through her dense thatch of pubes, she quickly found herself bumping against flesh - an expanse of it, broad and thick.

Her hand swerved away at first; expecting to find such a thing there-

But quickly, Riley realized something was wrong. Reaching downward again, she finds her hand clasping around the half-hard base of a very thick, very real... Very manly cock.

The vague unease she'd been sensing for the past couple of days reached a boiling point - and if nothing else seemed distinctly off, the fact that she had a cock and balls between her legs certainly was. It was hard thinking of when she hadn't... Had it, but... One memory comes to mind.

The memory of her interview with Ms. Schlotz. Things were different then - weren't they? She wasn't burly, or hairy, or hung like she was now - she couldn't remember what she was, but it wasn't like this.

Furrowing her brow, Riley resolved to confront her boss about it tomorrow - after all, she was wiped out from today. Before she left the locker room, she almost forgot she was still wearing her overalls... And moreover, that she was nude beneath them.

Begrudgingly, Riley snagged one of the pairs of underwear hanging nearby - that and her uniform would have to do until tomorrow.

When Riley got dressed this morning, she just felt... Right.

Disturbingly so.

Disgustingly so.

Wearing the pilfered underwear felt snug around her wide flanks - feeling the elastic snap tight just underneath her hairy gut and feeling her... Her... Package rest firmly within...

It felt like it was made for her. The overalls, which she could distantly recall used to be baggy - were now completely snug. They were transformative in a way she couldn't describe - the simple act of scratching her stomach turned into a blissful reprieve when she was dressed; and...

Riley knew there was supposed to be a part of her that hated that. A part of her that was aware of how wrong all of this was. The absence of that part of her made Riley scared and confused - and, even if her memories were starting to fail her, she knew were this all started.

When she arrived at the warehouse, Riley made a bee-line for the offices. Despite the geriatric secretary's protests, Riley marched right on past the desk and threw open Hillary's door - slamming it and locking it behind her. As Riley expected - her boss wasn't pleased.

"I know it isn't your specialty, Walter - but can you try to be a little more delicate?" she challenges. "Furthermore, I don't remember sending for you. Your shift begins in five minutes, anyway - shouldn't you be getting ready before you're late?"

There was a part of Riley that wholeheartedly agreed with Ms. Schlotz. She knew how precise the boss could be about lateness, and- "No - I'm right where I need to be." she asserts. "You - you've been fucking with me. You did something." Riley marches toward Hillary's desk - and the boss sneers at her.

"Oh _have_I?"

Riley nods vigorously. "Yeah! I... I..." She shakes her head. "I ain't supposed to look like this. Not supposed to have-" She pats her stomach - causing her gut to jiggle a little. "This. And I know ya don't get this big overnight."

Hillary huffs. "That's right - it only took two nights for you." Raising a hand, she turns it over expectantly. "And? What are you here to do?"

"I..." Riley pauses. "I..." She furrows her brow.

"Oh, did you think just because you uncovered my little spell means you're free? How unrealistically demanding." she chides. "Fine - I'll admit it. I saw a pathetic creature before me, scraping the bottom of the barrel for some sort of job - and I gave them one. Call me whatever you'd like - a devil, a witch; whatever..." She jabs a finger toward Riley, accusingly. "But don't think I don't know about your reputation either."

Her reputation? Riley felt the weight of dread come over her. "What- what does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything. It's why you applied for a job here, isn't it?"

As Riley takes a step back, Hillary leans back in her seat. Riley can hear a soft thudding beneath the desk - and slowly, Hillary places her stocking-clad feet upon the desk. "No - no, it wasn't my fault. I wasn't involved." Riley defends.

"Oh weren't_you? Allow me to recall..." Hillary looks upward, grinning cruelly. "Fired from your last _five jobs for inappropriate conduct around female employees."

"What? No, I was-"

"Sexual harassment complaints spanning over ten years..."

Riley starts to sweat.

"Banned from local gyms for theft of womens' footwear..."

Riley's voice catches in her throat as a memory flows unbidden into her head. Her hefty, calloused hands around a high heel - still warm and fragrant from when it was being worn...

"How many times in your life have you heard the word pervert?"

Too many to count. Riley's eyes fall from Hillary's face to her feet - resting on her desk. Toes spreading seductively. Clad in those... Slutty stockings. Her mind prescribes meaning to objects she thought only plainly of moments ago.

"But, then you found me. The one woman that's as forgiving of your... Tastes... As she is disgusted by them." Hillary's toes curl beckoningly, driving Riley forward. "Ah, ah - on your knees, Walter."

Riley- Walter- She... They... Didn't know what was happening. A lifetime of memories were worming their way into her head as Hillary recounts them; writes them in real time. Their mind is strained to the bursting point...

Just like...

His cock in his trousers.

He licks his lips, watching Ms. Schlotz maneuver one leg over the desk, falling upon the ground as she walks around it, closer to him. Balancing on one leg, she presents her free foot to him - lingering inches away from his face. "You barged into my office, made ludicrous accusations of me, and on top of that - now you're late for work. What do you have to say for yourself - what can you say to keep your job..." She sneers down at him. "To keep seeing my feet?"

She plants her foot down on the ground - guiding his vision down with it. "I-I u-u-uh... S-suh-sorry, Ms. Schlotz! Ma'am! Mistress! Whatever you want me to call you!" He clasps his calloused hands. "F-f-fire me, spit on me, do anything, j-just don't- Don't stop..." He ineloquently grunts, thrusting his hips forward a little.

After a moment of silence, Ms. Schlotz obliges one of his demands. Disgustedly, she spits on his overalls, walking away. "Fine. But you're on thin ice, and I'm halving your pay for the day."

Unable to do much more, Walter leans down - prostrating himself. "Thank you!"

With a groan, Ms. Schlotz seats herself back in her chair, maneuvering her feet back into her heels behind her desk. "Yes, yes - don't get too excited, or I'll dock your pay for the cleanup too." She claps twice, then points to the door. "Hurry up and get out of here, pervert - time is money!"

With a jubilant "Yes, Ms. Schlotz!" Walter stands up, hurrying out the door, and leaving Hillary alone in her office.

She was a woman of power well beyond her actions, and yet... For her propensity to twist bodies, minds, and souls...

Nothing made her happier than ruining a person so utterly.