Category Archives: Slippery Slope Series

A Slippery Slope in a Sales Pitch (Forced in Work in Girls’ Uniform)

Eric Saldana/Primrose: is a 24-year-old car salesman. He is only about 5’6, slender and has a feminine face. He has brown eyes and hair. Eric’s success has enabled him to get married at age 22. He supports his wife and infant daughter. He doesn’t want his wife to work, but wishes to provide for her. Eric is a good, but unethical salesman. He manages to sell cars, but also tweaks showroom rules. He truly cares about the preferences of customers though. He loves his family so much that he makes many sacrifices for them. One of them is undergoing gender change and becoming Primrose.

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A Slippery Slope in Day Trading – A Reluctant Auditionee

  • Title: A Slippery Slope in Day Trading
  • Subtitle: A Reluctant Auditionee
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Category: MTF

18-year-old Raj Dixit is sick of his life. He finds studies boring. His part-time job is monotonous. His alcoholic mother and avaricious father call him a freeloader. They nag Raj to contribute to the family income.

Raj can’t sleep in the night. He is plagued by nightmares of the scarring experiences he had as a child actor.

One evening, Raj runs into Vimal Chopra, the producer who had first cast him in movies. Raj confides his financial troubles in Chopra. Chopra convinces Raj that he can become rich through day trading. Raj uses his meager savings and borrows a huge amount from Chopra for leveraged trading. The next day, Raj buys and sells stock under Chopra’s advice. At the end of the day, he has suffered a huge loss. He now owes Chopra a hefty sum.

Chopra wants his money back immediately. He offers Raj an alternative — to star in one of his movies and repay him from his salary. Little does Raj realize that Chopra intends casting him in
a female role.

A Slippery Slope in Day Trading

Subtitle: A Reluctant Auditionee

Author: Yu Sakurazawa

Chapter 1 – Parents’ Cash Cow

My lips were dry. The satchel weighed heavily on my back. Sitting through 7 hours of lectures on economics, sociology and history had been tedious. I was exhausted. Yet I decided to walk home from my college near Horizon Hospital to my small two bed room flat in Ghatkopar. I didn’t have much money on me and wished to save on bus charge.

I reached home and poured myself a glass of water. Neither of my parents gave me even a glance. My father was busy with his translation work. He was not 60 years old yet, but had opted for early retirement after a road accident had left him wheel-chair bound. When he was hale and hearty, dad had worked as a school teacher, teaching Marathi to hordes of children.

My mother was sitting on a well-worn sofa in the living room. Her gaze was the unfocused one of an alcoholic. She swayed from side to side. A big bottle of gin was clenched firmly in one delicate, long-fingered hand. My mom took a long swig of it. She drank it neat.

Mom worked as a cook in a few houses. After work, she relaxed with a drink. Sometimes, that one drink multiplied into many. During these times, mom became aggressive, abusive and quarrelsome. She called my dad impotent and me a wimp. Dad mostly remained silent during these times. I felt greatly upset and argued with my mom.

Presently, my students started trickling in. They were about 10 years old and 5 in number. I helped them with their homework, earning Rs. 2,500 per month. I wished to buy good clothes, shoes and reference books. Since my parents could give me only a limited amount of cash, I had decided to start giving tuition classes for the neighborhood children to earn some money.

I taught for a grueling three hours. Finally, my students collected their books and left my home. I was dead tired. I walked to the bathroom and splashed my face with tap water. As I dried it with a towel, I could help admiring myself in the full-length bathroom mirror.

My skin was milky white. My features were chiseled and delicate. My eyes were mysterious emerald green. My head was replete with thick, glossy black hair.

My figure was slender. It was that way naturally, without my having to exercise. For a minute, I wondered why I wasn’t on the silver screen. I hastily withdrew my thought. I recalled that I had spent 5 years of my childhood as a child actor and had hated every minute of it.

It had all begun when I had accompanied my mom to the grocery store. A tall man with high-cheek bones had swooped in on us, eyed me greedily and said,

“You’re beautiful, kid. Would you like to act in the movies?”

I hated films. I scarcely remembered having seen more than 2 or 3 of them up to that point. I wanted to study hard and grow up to become an astrophysicist.

“No” I said shaking my head.

“Oh shut up, Raj” said my mom roughly gripping me by the shoulder. She turned to Chopra, grinned from ear-to-year and said,

“Of course he’d love to. Are you a film producer or something?”

“Yes” affirmed the man “I’m currently producing a movie called Nanhi Jadugar (a little female magician) along with three other producers. We were looking for a beautiful female child to play the lead. Raj is a boy, but a pretty one. Would you be kind enough to bring him to the auditions tomorrow? It’s in Andheri West”.

“I sure will” simpered my mom. She was unable to contain her excitement. The next day, she made me skip school and dragged me to the audition in an old rundown building. The other kids assembled in the hall were all girls. I felt shy and awkward to be the only boy auditioning for a part meant only for girls.

When my turn came, I said my lines out reluctantly. Yet I was selected for the lead role. The part required me to wear a frilly frock and a wig of bobbed hair. I loathed being dressed as a girl. I threw a tantrum and refused to go for the shoots. My mom whacked me, put me in a frock and dragged me. Dad also forced me to go. He reminded me that I had several lakhs of rupees riding on me.

Nanhi Jadugar became a big hit. Chopra gave me a new screen name: Baby Angel. The audience accepted me as a girl. I received numerous other film offers, all for girl’s roles. My parents forced me to act in all of them, as they wanted to benefit from my earnings. The next five years passed in a haze of casting calls, sweaty auditions, memorizing dialogues and being put in alien scenes I couldn’t fully relate to. The “acting” involved mugging corny lines and hamming it up on screen. I used to perform tacky melodramatic scenes, emotionally distancing myself from what I was doing. My mom would sit at the farthest end of the sets, eying me like a hawk to make sure that I didn’t flee the place.

My school life became hell. The fact that I performed girls’ roles caused much amusement. My classmates called me derogatory terms like “hijra” or “chakka” (which mean transvestite). I remember an instance when a group of class mates had accosted me in the school restroom and pulled my shorts down in order to ascertain if I indeed had a penis.

The incident left me scarred. I came home crying. When I narrated the day’s incidents to my parents, they laughed out loud and said that I was over-reacting. They didn’t realize how traumatized I was.

I reported to the studio sets the next day, still disturbed by the previous day’s happenings. Dev, a lanky, brown-skinned 14-year-old tea boy, noticed that I was upset. He asked me what was wrong. Dev was the only person who cared about me and understood my feelings.

I reiterated the unsavory events of the previous day. Tears began running down my cheeks. Dev listened attentively, his face growing graver by the minute. At the end of my narrative, he shook his head sadly and said,

“Your classmates did a terrible thing. I’m sorry you had to go through such an ordeal”.

I smiled through my tears. “Thank you for understanding” I said.

Dev pinched my cheeks affectionately and smiled. “Now cheer up” he said “a cute boy like you shouldn’t be crying”.

“Do you like me only because I look cute?” I asked Dev.

Dev thought for a moment. “No” he said after a while “I like you because you are a hardworking boy, just like me. I also like you because you are kind-hearted”.

“Am I kind-hearted?” I asked. This wasn’t a quality I had reflected on.

“Yes, you have a heart of gold” Dev confirmed “other child actors treat me like a shit. They yell at me all the time and order me around as if I was their personal servant. You aren’t like that. You treat me with respect”.

“You deserve to be respected” I said smiling.

Three years later, I turned 12. Much to my parents’ disappointment, I stopped getting movie offers. I went to school like a normal kid and lost touch with all the people in the movie world. I also forgot all about Dev.

I shifted my school, so no one in my new school (and later, college) knew I was Baby Angel. No one teased or taunted me any longer. Yet the agony of my past lingered. Every time, I found myself attracted to a girl and wished to approach her, a voice inside me called me “hijra”. And every time I watched a man and a woman engaged in coitus on one of the numerous free porn videos on the internet, a persistent voice jeered and challenged me “Chakka, can you perform like him?”

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Slippery Slope in a Reality Show – Feminized by Destiny

  • Title: Slippery Slope in a Reality Show
  • Subtitle: Feminized by Destiny
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Category: mtf, transgender

The 23-year-old protagonist is one of the contestants of Pyar Villa, a reality show in which 7 dashing guys are supposed to woo 7 lovely damsels. Though not interested in women, Sanjay, the protagonist, idly courts a leggy dusky beauty named Jacqueline Lobo. Prince Ash, the winner of a major model hunt, is introduced as a wild card entry on Pyar Villa. Slowly but surely, Sanjay begins to develop feelings for the ruggedly handsome Ash. Ash reciprocates Sanjay’s feelings and the two men begin a secret affair. Ash coaxes Sanjay to dress in women’s clothes bringing the latter’s suppressed desire for feminization to surface. However, Sanjay suffers heartbreak when Prince Ash proposes to Jacqueline on the final episode of Pyar Villa. Sanjay resolves to live the rest of his life as a woman. She is now called Simi.

Slippery Slope in a Reality Show

by Yu Sakurazawa

Chapter 1 – Pyar Villa: The House of Love

Being the son of the affluent Rajesh Saluja got me into Pyar Villa, a TV show hosted by STV India. Dad was particular that I get a life outside of my dental clinic and socialize with girls like a “normal” 23-year-old guy. Pyar Villa (The House of Love) provided the perfect platform to find true love, or so its creators claimed. The contestants would be searching for it in front of a bunch of cameras and a million viewers.

7 guys (including me) and 7 girls were housed in a villa on the outskirts of Delhi. The guys were supposed to mingle with the girls, perform fun tasks and exhibit their talents to win the damsels over. The show was hosted by Rahul Batra, an STV MJ and Indiana Amour, a former cabaret dancer. I was given a spacious room in the villa. I also met and had a passing conversation with Vishal Grover, the guy in the room next to mine. Vishal gave me nice, friendly vibes in spite of being a competitor at the show.

Later that day, I was introduced to the other guys and girls. The girls were apparently attracted to my lean slender body and boyish face. The guys didn’t pass any comments, but I could tell that they too found me cute. The cameras soon started rolling and the guys were asked to socialize with the girls, who waited for us in the swimming pool of the villa. None of the girls interested me, but I started flirting with a leggy dusky beauty called Jacqueline Lobo aka Jackie. Jackie reveled in the attention she received from me and believed that we had established a true “heart-to-heart” connection. Over the next few weeks, Jackie and I became close and were known as the “love birds” of the villa. However, except for a sense of camaraderie, I felt nothing for my “lover-girl”.

One sunny day, Rahul and Indiana had a surprise for us. They introduced a wild card entry to give us regular guys some stiff competition. When the latest competitor walked into the villa, the girls nearly swooned. The new contestant was none other than the drop-dead gorgeous Prince Ash, the winner of Glamour Manhunt Contest. As Ash came into the villa and flashed his famous piano-key smile, I could feel a flush creep up my neck. Prince Ash shook hands and interacted with all the contestants of the villa. When he took his hands in mine, I could feel myself blushing ever more. I stammered when I spoke and could barely maintain eye contact. Ash seemed to notice my discomfiture and gave me a secret smile.

Over the next few days, I was acutely conscious of Ash’s gaze on me. When I performed a task which required me to paint Jackie’s body, I could feel Ash’s dark eyes bore into me. His expressive eyes seemed to speak and they said: “Sanjay Saluja, I wish to paint your body”.

During a task in which the guys were supposed to splash scented water on the girls they were wooing, Prince Ash threw a bucketful of fragrant water on me! The hosts and the contestants saw his act as a joke and laughed, but I knew otherwise. Ash’s gesture may have been frivolous, but his intention was not.

During another Pyar Villa task, all the guys were supposed to write down their darkest fantasies on a sheet of paper, but not sign their names underneath it. The girls were supposed to guess whom the respective fantasies belonged to. Since I was afraid of revealing my deepest fantasies, I settled for an innocent one. I penned that I’d like to take Jacqueline on a romantic date on a beach. The other guys were bolder. They wrote about wanting to have orgies and group sex. One anonymous guy had expressed the desire to court another guy from the villa. None of the girls could guess who this particular fantasy belonged to.

But I knew. One glance at Prince Ash’s smirking face only confirmed my knowledge.

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A Slippery Slope in a Music Band – A Substitute Singer

  • Title: A Slippery Slope in a Music Band
  • Subtitle: A Substitute Singer
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Category: transgender, romance

M. “Aaron” Smith: is the protagonist of the story. He is an 18 year old boy living in the small American town of Sunnysky. He studies in Sunnysky High School. Aaron has red hair (hence is often called “Ember Head” by his friends), dark green eyes and a face full of freckles. He is a cheerful good-natured boy, who is good at sports and singing. Aaron is also girl-crazy and accident-prone. In this story, Aaron is forced to dress in drag in order to impersonate new band member, Cynthia Perry, who has eloped with her boyfriend at the lost moment. The whole story revolves around Aaron’s agonies and ecstasies of stepping into womanhood.

A Slippery Slope in a Music Band

Subtitle: A Substitute Singer

by Yu Sakurazawa

Chapter 1 – A Buxom, Redhead

“I think we’ll bag it”, Valerie, my rich, vain girlfriend declared. She jiggled her gold bracelets and tossed her dark mane.

“Are you sure?” asked Bianca, my sweet, blonde pal “I don’t know if The Aarons are better than Jenny and the Felines”. By The Aarons, Bianca meant our band. I was the lead vocalist and guitarist, Veronica played the keyboard, while Bianca played the tambourine.

The Aarons did very well locally. My pals said that it was because people could relate to me: an 18 year old cheery, redheaded boy. They loved my gentle voice, “cute” freckles and boyish (if somewhat, sloppy) charm. Everyone adored me as I was.

“Forget Jenny and the Felines, babe” I presently dismissed Bianca’s worries “we will definitely bag the contract with Lothario Records”. “Yes, we ought to” I mentally reassured myself. After all, The Aarons had left no stone unturned for the past few months. We had made a demo album, bought great quality equipment and had even hired a manager. All this had been possible because of Valerie’s wealthy old dad: Arthur Johnson. Mr. Johnson was the owner and CEO of Johnson industries. He disapproved of me (as Valerie’s boyfriend), but would do anything for his darling daughter.

“Right, we were great at the auditions” confirmed Valerie presently “Cummings said Brando was impressed”.

“Cummings would say anything to please you” I muttered under my breath “after all, he’s the lackey-manager hired by your old man”. My remark wasn’t off the mark. Cummings, our gangling, simpering manager, had the hots for Valerie. He would say almost anything to make her happy. I, however, had to admit that our auditions had gone well. But it was hard to tell what Brando, the head of Lothario Records thought of us. He had sat stony-faced, throughout the auditions, staring hard at my two girl pals. When we had thanked him at the end, Brando remained expressionless.

Presently, Cummings walked into our recording studio. He was grinning from ear to ear. Really, the idiot couldn’t stop drooling at the sight of Valerie. I tried to subdue my irritation and concentrate on the news Cummings had to convey.

“Brando gave us the green flag, babe!” he said wrapping Valerie in a sudden, crushing embrace “you girls are in!”

“That’s great!” said Valerie trying to disentangle herself from Cummings’s bear hug “I knew it!”

“He loved both of you” Cummings turned to beam at Bianca “Brando loved you girls!”

I felt anxiety stir in my stomach. Why was Cummings saying Brando loved “the girls”? What about me? I was the one who had formed The Aarons in the first place.

“You mean he loved The Aarons, right?” I asked uneasily.

“Sure, lad” said Cummings suddenly looking nervous “Brando loved The Aarons. But…” he tailed off.

“But….” I prompted.

Cummings remained silent. I could sense both my girl pals becoming tense.

“Speak up, Cummings” commanded Valerie “or has the cat got your tongue?”.

“There’s a small catch” replied Cummings coughing and not meeting Valerie’s gaze.

“What?” barked Valerie.

“Brando does want Aaron in the band” Cummings finally said “he wants a third girl, preferably a redheaded one”.


There was a long, dumbstruck silence.

“How’s that possible?” asked Bianca finally “how can we be The Aarons without Aaron?”

“You’ll have to oblige Brando; otherwise the contract will go to Jenny and the Felines” Cummings said “it’s your call”. He shrugged.

“We can’t allow another band to get our contract!” Valerie protested “we’ve worked so hard for it!”. She refrained from mentioning the money her dad had poured into the venture.

“That’s right” I said “I can’t afford to be selfish. The Aarons is bigger than me”.

“Are you sure, Darling?” asked Bianca caressing my cheek “is it okay if we take another girl?”

“Absolutely” I said putting on a brave face “you may take any girl in Sunnysky”.

“Cynthia Perry is a good choice” said Valerie “she is red-headed and also has a rich husky voice”.

My mind went into a tizzy at the mention of Cynthia Perry. If there was ever sex on legs, Cynthia was it. With her big bosom, long legs and luxuriant red mane, Cynthia could set the whole town on fire. I don’t want to be misunderstood here. Even though I loved Valerie and Bianca dearly, I was also crazy about other girls. Polygamy is the typical trait of any teenage boy, and I was no exception. And Cynthia topped the list of girls I occasionally dated and frequently fantasized about. She was a great flirt and very promiscuous. I believe she had an especial soft spot for me.

It was uncharacteristically generous of Valerie to suggest Cynthia. The two had been fierce rivals in the past, competing to display their extravagant lifestyles and gain hegemony over me. But it was obvious that bagging the contract mattered more than personal feelings to Valerie. This was the first sign of martyrdom I had ever seen in her.

Bianca and I agreed to Valerie’s idea. Bianca was especially happy because Cynthia was a close friend of hers. So, Cynthia was selected. She performed in the second set of auditions. Brando evidently loved her. He apparently stared at her goggle-eyed throughout the performance.

On the day before the final round of auditions, Bianca rushed into our recording studio. She looked flushed and extremely anxious.

“I’ve got bad news” she said.

“What happened?” Valerie and I chorused.

“Cynthia has eloped” said Bianca “with a boy from Pembrook. The two have gone away to another city”

“Oh my God!” exclaimed Valerie in dismay “what about the auditions??!”

“We’ll have to find a replacement” said Bianca, pensively chewing her lip.

“Or an impersonator!” quipped the crafty-minded Valerie.

“Right….” agreed Bianca “we need an impersonator….until Cynthia returns”. Both the girls were looking at me intently. I got a whiff of the girls’ thoughts and flushed under their scrutiny.

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A Slippery Slope in Amish Life – Forbidden Desires

A Slippery Slope in an Amish Community
A heart-warming FTM vs. MTF transgender romance story.

  • Title: A Slippery Slope in Amish Life
  • Subtitle: Forbidden Desires
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Transgender category: both MTF and FTM

I am Laila, the narrator of the story. I am a research scholar affiliated with JNU University and writing a thesis on the Amish Community. I am tall, dusky, muscular for a woman, have straight jet black hair and intense coal black eyes.  When I was alone in an Amish house on Sunday I met Amos, a beautiful young Amish man and fell in love at first sight. I couldn’t resist the urge to persuade him to dress in female clothes. However, the Amish family came home and found Amos dressing in drag. Then they excommunicated Amos from the Amish community. I considered it as my responsibility and took him to New Delhi on a student visa. I helped Amos enroll into a foreign language course in JNU University and helped him transform into a woman, gradually. During the course of Amos’s treatment, I met Dr. Gracie Holmes who told me that I myself was suffering from GID.

A Slippery Slope in Amish Life

Subtitle: Forbidden Desires

Chapter 1 – The Comely Amos

I feel like I am in a dream. The weather is partly cloudy, but sunshine spears its way through a cloud. Lancaster County in Pennsylvania, where I currently am, is so different from India: the country I am from. Before I go any further, let me introduce myself: I am Laila Sethi, a 27 year old woman pursuing her PhD from the renowned JNU University in New Delhi. Since my dissertation is on the Amish way of life, I am here in Lancaster Country where most from the Amish usually reside. I am here to study their system of beliefs, their way of life and the general workings of their society. From the plenteous things that I have learnt so far, the devout Amish people staunchly adhere to the Biblical command of detachment from the world. To do so, they segregate themselves from the rest of the world, avoid using technology and dress in certain types of clothes only.

At the moment, my eyes are riveted on a young man wielding a harrow. It is fascinating to watch the continual rhythmic motion of breaking up and smoothening of the surface of the soil. I, personally, am equally bewitched by the young man as I am by the agriculture. His name is Amos Fisher and he is 24 years old. Amos has marble white skin, flaming red hair and the expression of a saint. In the manner of most Amish men, he is wearing a pistachio colored shirt, dark brown suit, straight black coat without lapels, and trousers that are flared at the bottom. Amos’s shoes are black and so are his socks. His large straw-brimmed hat protects him from the scorching sun.

Like the women of the Old Order Amish, I am wearing a long navy blue dress with full-sleeves which covers me from head to toe. My attire is covered with a cape and apron which are fastened with straight pins. The norm usually says that Amish women never cut their hair, but from my childhood, I have sported hair cropped short like a boy’s. According to the Amish ethos, single women are supposed to cover their heads with a black cap and this is what I have done.

As I gaze at Amos Fisher, a strange thought crosses my mind. I question my sanity. I imagine the young man in my feminine navy blue dress and, conversely, myself in his shirt, coat, trousers and suspenders. And what’s most zapping is that the gender swap doesn’t seem, in any way, strange at all.

Yes, Amos Fisher is what I would call a feminine man.

Since today is Sunday, the whole of the Amish community has gone to the church to attend the mass. The Amish are a community largely dependent on religion; they believe that all men are born sinners and that the only way to attain personal salvation is through unremitting obedience to God. Since I am not religious in any sense of the term (I am not even a practicing Hindu: the religion of my birth), I decide to sit indoors and enjoy a rarely found privacy for a while. The Amish way of life places a great deal of emphasis on community living. While I think this is an ideal way of living, I am yet to get used to it completely. In spite of the acceptance I find here, I find myself desperately craving for some “Me Time”.


I went into a typical two-storied unadorned Amish house which was painted blue: a color symbolic of the sky. The houses all around were painted green, white and brown or other colors which are symbolic of nature. Everything in the house was simple and functional. Curtains, shades and quilts contain typical motifs which tend to involve depictions of nature such as doves, roses and trees. The Amish houses are marked by the absence of modern gadgets and other signs of technology. Instead, the refrigerators and stoves were powered by natural propane, bottled gas or kerosene.

My mouth craved a cup of strong tea. Since people in Lancaster County were basically coffee drinkers, the tea served there was rather weak. Kicking myself for not getting a packet of Masala Chai (Tea laced with cinnamon, cardamom, cloves etc which is considered a specialty in India) from Delhi, I made my way into the kitchen. Finally, I was alone! A minute or two later, I became sentient of the presence of another entity in my room. Years of meditation has made me sensitive to aura: I was 100% certain that the person in the room was a female. The sensual organic scent of her skin, the faint herbal fragrance of her hair and the unseen shock of menstrual blood that was no doubt discarded from her vital outlet every month, pointed to an entity who was unremittingly, irrevocably feminine. As an instinctive reaction to the presence of a female, seemingly in estrus, in the room, I started sweating with excitement. Before I could make sense of what was happening inside my body, I felt my heart rate shoot up and my hypothetical penis stand erect!

What in the world was happening to me?? I was a woman, not a man! I was a lean, dusky, sinuous, dark-haired woman with breasts! As far as I knew, I was a heterosexual. The one or two physical relationships I had previously had had been with men. So, where in the world did the hypothetical penis come from? And why in the world was I getting aroused by sensing the presence of a female ostensibly in estrus?

Heavens knows. It was all very confusing and disturbing.

The fact that made my heart stop midway was the fact that the so-called ovulating female I was instinctively getting prepared to “enter” was 24 year old Amos Fisher. He was dunking cobs of corn in vinegar, and was planning, I surmised, to ferment it for a few days to make it into pickle. I was struck by the unconventionality of two aspects here. For one, while I was familiar with cucumbers being pickled, this was the first time I had actually seen anyone pickling corn cobs. Secondly, in the Amish community which thrived on the strict demarcation of roles, the men were assigned farming, building houses etc, while the women were supposed to devote themselves to domestic roles like cooking, cleaning and maintaining the house. Given such a situation, it surprised me greatly to see Amos embroiled in a task which was uncompromisingly the forte of the female.

But then, why was I so flabbergasted? There had always been something undeniably girlish about Amos. My mind went into the retrospective mode and recalled all the mannerisms Amos engaged in. Amos often went into a helpless spasm of giggles whenever one of the men cracked a joke. Then there were other things that were a definite indication of his femininity. For instance, Amos titled his pretty head to a side when he talked. He sipped his drink daintily with a straw. Amos’s hand flit like slender restless butterflies when he communicated. He was particularly obsessed about personal hygiene, kept himself impeccably groomed and walked with unrivalled grace in every step. All this struck me only in retrospect.

“Aren’t you supposed to be pickling cucumbers instead of corncobs?” I asked a politically correct question rather than the one that was on my mind.

“According to convention, yes” replied Amos placidly “but I believe in doing whatever floats my boat”. The reply was made unselfconsciously enough, but I couldn’t help noticing the subliminal meaning beneath the sentence. Amos’s tip-tilted eyes bore into my soul, as if they had realized that I had read the meaning underlying his words. I felt a shiver pass down my body, which had, for some reason, often been described as feline and predatory.

“Hmmm…” I said, wondering how to express my thoughts without offending Amos “I think you are rather too different for a man….”.

“Different? How?” Amos asked genuinely stupefied.

“Well” I began trying to find a way of putting my point across without offending him “You’re gentle…and sensitive”.

“Gracias” said Amos smiling an angelic smile that made the fine hairs on my body rise. Then sensing that I probably had more to say to him, he said “I surmise you have much more to say to me, Laila”.

“You sensed that I wanted to say something” I said “So I guess that makes you intuitive….”.

“And?” Amos’s sinuous body was poised towards me in attention. The saintly smile on his pale pink lips made me melt. It was proven beyond doubt that I was attracted to Amos. Yet there was something offbeat about the way in which I was drawn to him. It wasn’t the usual, cliché attraction a woman feels towards a man. My fascination for Amos transcended that. However, at this point, I found it difficult to put a finger on how my attraction to him was different.

“And compassionate, sympathetic, tender, understanding, warm, yielding, soft, nurturing and graceful” I said all in one breath. Without being wholly aware of what I was doing, I had inched so close to Amos that our noses literally touched. As the rosy fragrance of Amos’s skin reached my nostrils, I shivered.

Amos was trembling too. “Look at you” he whispered from in between his coral, kissable lips “you’re as tall as me: a man. I like that quality in you. I must confess, though, that I wish I was a little shorter than 5’9”.

“My height!” I said in mock exasperation “is that all you could think of to laud? Don’t I possess any other qualities worthy of admiration?”

Amos hesitated a bit. “Well, I’d say you’re strong….very strong” he said.

“Pray, continue” I goaded, probably grinning in the impish way my friends said I always did.

“You’re courageous, assertive, independent and outspoken” said Amos with an iota of hesitation “I’d also say you’re competitive, ambitious and…dominant”. Amos’s tip-tilted green eyes dropped as he made the following statement. His thick eyelashes fluttered.

“Do you mean to say I am bossy?!” I nearly yelled.

“No, no, of course not” Amos hastened to correct himself “I meant what I said in a positive way. You are the stuff…..homebuilders are made of”.

I smiled. “And you are the stuff homemakers are made of” I said.

A pensive frown passed Amos’s face. “Laila, do you I am trapped in the wrong body?”.

“There is just one way to find out” I said.

Please click here to read the rest of the story.

Books of “Forced to Work in Girls’ Uniform” series are titled “Slippery Slope”

Among the transgender stories written by Yu Sakurazawa, the books in the “Forced to Work in Girls’ Uniform” series are the most popular and all of them are titled as “A Slippery Slope –  something”.  The phrase “slippery slope” means a process or series of events that is hard to stop or control once it has begun and that usually leads to worse or more difficult things.

Likewise, in each book of “A Slippery Slope – something” once a process is triggered it is impossible to stop and feminization of the protagonist inevitably progresses until it is finally completed.

A majority of transgender stories that you will find in the Kindle market are run-of-the-mill adult fictions, while Yu Sakurazawa’s stories are not. “Slippery Slope” stories are serious mtf stories, or heartwarming romances. They are delightful mtf reads and are sensual, erotic and fun.

Here are the cover pages of “A Slippery Slope – something” books (Forced to Work in Girls’ Uniform/Dress series) with links to Amazon sales pages.

A Slippery Slope in an Airline A Slippery Slope in a Bank A Slippery Slope in a Call Center A Slippery Slope in a Hospital A Slippery Slope in a Hotspring A Slippery Slope in a Nunnery A Slippery Slope in a School A-Slippery-Slope-in-an-Ad-Agency A Slippery Slope in Military Academy A Slippery Slope in an Amish Community

Please see brief introduction to each story as follows:

A Slippery Slope in Amish Life

Laila is a research scholar affiliated with JNU University and writing a thesis on the Amish Community. She is 27 year old,  tall, dusky, muscular for a woman, have straight jet black hair and intense coal black eyes.  When she was alone in an Amish house on Sunday Laila met Amos, a beautiful young Amish man and fell in love at first sight. She couldn’t resist the urge to persuade him to dress in female clothes. However, the Amish family came home and found Amos dressing in drag. Then they excommunicated Amos from the Amish community.  Laila considered it as her responsibility and took him to New Delhi on a student visa. She helped Amos enroll into a foreign language course in JNU University and helped him transform into a woman, gradually. During the course of Amos’s treatment, Laila meets Dr. Gracie Holmes who tells her that Laila herself suffers from GID.

A Slippery Slope in a Hospital

Craig/Carol Lovatt: is the 28 year old protagonist of the story. He is a petite, slender, pretty-faced Anglo-Indian who works as a nurse in the renowned Acesco Hospital. He is a responsible nurse, but commits a rare mistake on Valentine’s Night. As a result of his negligence, a patient dies. The patient happens to be the wife of Norman Abbott, the dean of Acesco Hospital. In lieu of being sued for negligence, Craig opts to sign a contract drawn up by Mr. Abbott. The terms of the contract bind Craig to carry out a series of strange instructions given by Mr. Abbott without questioning. One of them entails going to hospital dressed in a female nurse’s uniform and identifying himself as “Nurse Carol Abbott”.

A Slippery Slope in an Ad Agency

Zack is the 34 year old wild, unconventional and attractive protagonist of the story. He is tall, has expressive dark eyes and colors his hair blue. As the Creative Head and co-owner of leading ad agency Impressions, Zack has many admirers. His life has its share of schemers with his brother Ben and girlfriend Tania desiring his feminization to meet their own selfish ends. By making a laughing stock of Zack, Ben wants to amass all his popularity. By feminizing him, Tania wants to satisfy her deepest fantasies. On Tania’s suggestion, Zack dresses as “Zina” to be able to write the perfect ad copy to endorse women’s cosmetics, dresses and lingerie. Slowly and steadily, Tania and Ben trick Zack into completely becoming Zina— with silky long hair, breasts and a pussy. Though Zina is loyal to Tania, she finds that she is powerfully attracted to her client, Daniel Garfield.

A Slippery Slope in an Airline

In order to be closer to his girlfriend Flight Pursuer Gina Brooks, 25 year old law student Carlton Hart applies for the position of a steward in Zephyr Airlines. One of the recruiters, the older ultra-attractive In-flight Service Manager Rosaline Wells, agrees to select Carlton albeit only as a female flight attendant. Rosaline claims to see a woman (whom she calls “Clarissa”) trapped inside Carlton, and makes it her mission to set Clarissa free. Carlton thinks Rosaline is a raving lunatic, but agrees to dress in an air hostess’s uniform and identify himself as Clarissa Hart.As Carlton starts his job, he discovers that he is careless and clumsy. A series of events including a mid-air kiss Carlton shares with bisexual pop singer Twiggy Meteor, Gina’s affair and elopement with charismatic naxalite Ashish Dutta and, later, her marriage to wealthy hotelier Ellis Lawson, push Carlton deeper and deeper into the quagmire of feminization and into Rosaline’s sensual arms.However, Carlton (now Clarissa) still dreams of getting back with Gina. Will the two young lovers ever reunite? Or are they permanently pushed aside by hostile circumstances?

A Slippery Slope in a Hotspring: Yumori of Kasuga Hotspring

A retiree, 60 year old Japanese businessman Mr.Suzuki, visits Kasuga Hot Spring and meets a young yumori (hot spring keeper). The two men get into interesting conversation. The yumori takes Suzuki deep into the woods in the back of the hot spring, where Suzuki finds an astounding secret spring where animals are bathing. The combination of the human bath and the secret animal bath gives a magical effect – rejuvenating into the opposite sex.

A Slippery Slope in a Nunnery: where none of the nuns may dress improperly

Alex Pinto is the protagonist of “None of the Nuns May Dress Improperly” (Magdalene Sorority). Alex is quite a good-looking boy, 5 feet 9 inches tall, with an athletic body, honey-brown eyes and copper-streaked hair. He has a long face, a noble nose and full-lips: features that earn him the ‘beautiful’ sobriquet. Mesmerized by the beauty of Irish nun, Stella Mary, Alex trespasses into nunnery grounds. He is caught and bullied by the young nuns, led by three lethal females called the Three Musketeers. Much to Alex’s embarrassment, the Three Musketeers decide to punish him by forcing him to wear a pale pink tunic and a wimple. Since they haven’t had much straight sexual activity in recent times, they also get Alex to pleasure them.

A Slippery Slope in a Bank

26 year old effeminate-mannered, pretty faced man, Vicky Pereira wishes to marry his long term girlfriend, Edwina Joseph as soon as possible. However, his current job in a lesser-known bank doesn’t accord him enough financial security to take such a big step in his personal life. Vicky applies for the post of senior manager in a renowned bank known as Trust Bank. A goof-up at the interview leads to an underestimation on the part of the recruiters: Vicky is now employed as a clerk in Trust Bank. To comply with the rules, he must wear a uniform just like the other clerks: a jacket with an in-built bra and a form-fitting skirt. Customers are uneasy interacting with a man dressed in drag, hence Vicky is ordered to undergo laser treatment for removal of facial hair and a tracheal shave to get rid of his Adam’s apple. Vicky is under the impression that his feminization is a superficial one, done only for professional reasons. However, his girlfriend Edwina has other plans and Vicky permanently becomes a girl.

A Slippery Slope in Military Academy: A Frail Cadet

In an attempt to cure himself of GID, 19 year old honey-complexion boy, Dean joins Everest Military Academy: a private training institute that trains young people to become brave and competent soldiers. However, the delicate Dean finds he is unable to cope with the strenuous army life and finds himself failing all PET tests. The principal of the academy, gives Dean an ultimatum: either quit the academy or continue as a female cadet. Dean embraces his deepest, darkest desires by opting to transform into a female cadet. He is ordained into femininity by being forced to wear the female cadets’ uniform which comprises of a puff-sleeved OG shirt and a leaf-green pleated skirt. Eventually, Dean’s feminization includes HRT and SRS conducted/supervised by doll-faced 29 year old army doctor, Dr. (Capt) Sophie Mistry. As Dean eventually transforms into gorgeous, diva-like Diana, Dr. (Capt) Sophie makes it clear that her interest in Diana is more than professional. Diana, however, has lost her heart to Capt. Eric Saldana, her young and dashing Military History teacher. Diana is shocked when she learns that Capt. Saldana is interested in Dr. (Capt) Sophie. Meanwhile, Cadet Alvin D’Cruz, a classmate of Diana’s displays a zealous, possessive passion for her. Where will these convoluted romantic entanglements lead to? Is Diana destined to be with the man of her dreams?

A Slippery Slope in a Call Center

Eighteen year old Ajay Singh is a pretty-faced, effeminate boy living in the town of Patiala. Even though he is born male, Ajay hasn’t attained puberty. His dressing in female clothes and performing a feminine dance on a college stage creates a scandal in the social circles his family moves in. Fearing further stigma, Ajay’s parents ask him to leave Patiala. Ajay travels to Bangalore and joins a BPO/Call center of a San Francisco based telecom company called Ursa Major. He is given the job of a customer service representative. Ajay finds himself deeply fascinated by his beautiful and powerful boss, Barbara Turner. Barbara takes a personal interest in Ajay and even helps him neutralize his accent. The sexual tension between the two provides fodder for some office gossip. Since Ajay has a high-pitched, girlish voice, Barbara asks him to identify himself as ‘Arianna’ to customers who call. ‘Arianna’s’ life takes an unusual turn when Barbara coaxes him to wear a saree on the ethnic day held in the office.

Slippery Slope in a School

In the year of 2002, small-town boy, Simon joins Somerset High, an elite school that caters only to the offspring of the rich and the powerful. Since Simon is a scholarship student belonging to an ordinary family, his uppity classmates initially treat him with contempt. However, as his talents become known, Simon’s popularity soars, leaving school heart throb Sid fuming. Sid resorts to mean, underhanded tricks to pull Simon down. After Sid plays an especially dirty trick on Simon, school queen bee Richa (who also happens to hate Sid’s guts) offers to help Simon defeat Sid. For this Simon must assume a new identity—that of a female Italian student of royal lineage, “Principessa Simona Marino of Monte Isola”. As the charm of “Simona” casts a spell over the students of Somerset High, Sid’s popularity takes a beating. However, Sid doesn’t mind being beaten by the lovely exotic “princess”. As weeks fly by, Simon finds himself getting sucked, deeper and deeper, into the quagmire of femininity. As his body is progressively feminized, Simon finds that he is physically attracted to none other than his sworn enemy Sid! However, he also experiences a soul-to-soul connection with the noble Pamela, who, like himself, is a scholarship student of humble origins. Will Simona choose Sid or Pamela? Will love win over primeval lust?


Visit the Yu Sakurazawa’s home page – transgender books of Yu Sakurazawa’ transgender books.

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A Slippery Slope in an Airline – Forced to Work in Girls’ Uniform

  • A Slippery Slope in an AirlineTitle: A Slippery Slope in an Airline
  • Series: Forced to Work in Girls’ Uniform
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Transgender Category: MTF

Carlton is the 25 year old protagonist of the story. Carlton is 5’6, has china blue eyes, a small pert nose and wavy brown hair. He has a delicate fit body and dainty hands and feet. Carlton world turns upside down when he meets In-flight Service Manager, Rosaline Wells who insists that he joins Zephyr airlines dressed in a female flight attendants’ uniform. Though Carlton has doubts about Rosaline’s mental balance, he obliges as he wants to be close to Gina, his girl friend. Under Rosaline’s instructions, he calls himself Clarissa Hart and pretends to be a female flight attendant. Carlton all along experiences a powerful attraction for Rosaline Wells. A series of gaffes Carlton commits push him deeper and deeper into the whirlpool of feminization. Carlton eventually transforms into an attractive, shapely, long-haired woman and starts living with Rosaline as her young lesbian wife. In spite of being in a relationship with Rosaline, Clarissa yearns for Gina.

A Slippery Slope in an Airline

Forced to Work in Girls’ Uniform

Chapter 1 – An Attractive Cougar

“Carlton” my girlfriend Gina Brooks pouted “we never get to see much of each other, do we?”. With her baby blue eyes, perfectly bobbed red hair and an above-the-knee A-line shift, Gina looked invitingly pretty. I had been dating this intoxicating flight attendant for five years now, and life was heaven. But the hectic, inflexible nature of Gina’s job left us with little time for each other.

“Yes, baby” I agreed, languidly flipping through my law books “It’s a real pity”. I was studying law, and was currently in the 5th semester, but studying the Civil Procedure Code held no interest for me whatsoever. I craved to be with Gina 24×7, 365 days in a year. However, I had no remote idea as to how to manage this.

“Well, what do you propose we do about it?” Gina indignantly put her arms on her tiny waist. This gesture made my girlfriend look younger than her 25 years. I often teased Gina about how young she looked. And Gina often teased me back. There was truth in what Gina said: I looked closer to 20 than 25.

“Oh, I don’t know” I carelessly said, trying to get my head around procedural law “why don’t you get a job near our apartment? Perhaps you could be a receptionist or something?”. Gina and I shared a 30×30 flat in the Eurasian Cantonment Area of Bangalore. The flat was a pretty modest one, with two bedrooms, a living hall, a kitchen and a bathroom, but pretty much served the needs of a young couple like us.

Gina seized a textbook from my hand and thwacked me on the head. “Oww…what was that for?” I asked shocked.

“For being such a male chauvinist pig!” said Gina thwacking me again “didn’t it occur to you to get a job in my airline? You could complete your law course via correspondence”. My girlfriend worked with Zephyr Airways, which was the fourth largest in India, size-wise and in terms of the number of passengers it carried.

“I could” I said “but how would an administrative job help?”

“I was thinking on lines of a flight attendant, silly!” said Gina impatiently “’a steward’ as they used to say in the good old days. There is an open session going on, so there’s no need to apply. You could just walk into Room No. 9 at the farthest end of the airport and attend the interview in the coming week”.

“Do you think I’d qualify?” I asked taking an objective look in the mirror “the job demands a good personality”. I liked what I saw in the mirror. At 5’6, I wasn’t the tallest male on earth, but was definitely one of the cutest (even if I say so myself). With a pair of china blue eyes, a small pert nose and wavy brown hair, I looked rather like Scottish actor James McAvoy. My body wasn’t overly muscular, but was in shape. “Weight in proportion to height” – that’s what all airlines advertised, right? Well, I had that.

“You know you’ve got it, pretty boy” Gina teased “don’t fish for compliments now!”

“But I wonder if I have the customer care skills…” I said seeking further reassurance.

“Oh, you do” Gina assured me “when it comes to mollycoddling children and pampering grandmas, you can give a trained nanny a run for her money!”

“Then I am mighty glad” I drawled. I flipped Gina over on her back and tickled her neck and dimpled chin. She laughed until tears ran down her eyes and begged me to stop. Oh, the juvenile-erotic games of sweet youth!


On the D-day, I dressed in a double breasted tan suit, with a dark brown tie picked by my girlfriend. The crisp white shirt I wore didn’t have a single crease and its collar was held stiff by a pair of silver collar-stiffeners Gina had borrowed from her dad for the occasion. A pair of classic pearl double cuff-links and roasted coffee bean colored loafers completed my ensemble.

My face glowed with health and vitality. My wavy brown hair glimmered so brilliantly that it would have put men in shampoo ads to shame. I surveyed my teeth: they dazzled like diamonds.

With a few last minute tips and reading of sample in-flight announcements, I was ready to take on the world. Gina and I drove to the airport in her vanilla white Maruti 800 car. Since Gina had already handed over my resume to the HR department of Zephyr Airways, I didn’t have to take the trouble of carrying it along.

The airport was the most overwhelming, yet exciting place on earth. It was spread over 400 acres, had a capacious runway and aircrafts with behemoth wingspans. My loafers made contact with PVC flooring that was perfect and the high ceiling curved ahead of me in an exciting tunnel. People of different nationalities, cultures and professions pulled their trolleys along or patiently waited in the passenger areas. The staff areas comprised of some perfectly dressed people. The attractively lit retail outlets and restaurants beckoned me invitingly.

Resisting the urge to have a Coke, I walked to room number 9. At the entrance of the interview room, Gina gave me an encouraging peck on the cheek and disappeared. I was left to handle the interview on my own. Suppressing the nervousness that threatened to debilitate me, I strode in.

That was the first time I saw her.

45 year old Rosaline Wells, an experienced In-flight Service Manager, was seated beside two non-descript men in identical navy blue suits and two neatly dressed young females. The perfectly tailored light olive-green shirt that Rosaline wore flattered her ripe perfectly spherical breasts and brought out the color of her twinkling green eyes perfectly. She had a long slightly gaunt face with high-cheek bones, a feature that added to her attractiveness. As she stood up, I noticed that Rosaline was wearing a figure-hugging skirt that flattered her voluptuous figure and nude high heeled pumps that made her look three or four inches taller than her already towering 5 feet 9 inches.

“Hello” I said “I am Carlton Hart”.

“Welcome Mr. Hart” said one of the two guys in identical suits “we received your resume and are quite happy with the way you’ve presented yourself. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have other work to attend to. Ms. Wells here will be your sole interviewer”. The men shook my slightly sweaty hands and departed. The two girls (who had obviously been freshly interviewed) thanked Rosaline Wells, gave me a friendly parting smile and left the room. Even though I was nervous, I returned their smiles.

I was left alone with Rosaline Hart. I noticed that though she wasn’t a classic beauty, Rosaline was a very attractive woman.

“Have a seat, Mr. Hart” she said in warm, but professional tones “you don’t have to be nervous”. She pushed back a strand of golden hair and gave me a humorous, slightly skewed smile.

“This is the first time I have applied for the post of a flight assistant” I said frankly. It was a gawky, stupid, bumbling thing to say, but Rosaline took no notice of it. “It doesn’t matter” she said soothingly “as long as you have the interest and aptitude, it’s alright. Besides, we’ll put you through an 8 week period of intensive training before you actually start working on aircrafts”.

Rosaline started off with the expected question. “Why do you want to be a flight assistant?” she asked.

“I would like to be a flight attendant for Zephyr Airways as I believe I have excellent customer service skills and the talent of interacting with diverse customers, both at a personal and professional level. I also understand the importance of team spirit, and would work with my colleagues to create the most comfortable flying experience ever for passengers. I also understand the importance of customer safety, and would be perfectly suited to the exciting, bustling fast paced environment of the aviation industry” I rattled out the notes that I had mugged. Frankly speaking, I sounded rather like a parrot. Throughout the time during which I answered, I was aware of Rosaline’s twinkling green eyes appraising the shape of my forehead, the angle of my nose and the curve of my lips. Simultaneously I had an overwhelming urge, to reach out and touch Rosaline’s shoulder-length thick golden blonde hair. I clenched my arms at my sides and forced myself to smile.

Rosaline smiled too—her funny little lopsided smile. “Your answer is technically perfect” she said kindly, “but I urge you to cast protocol aside and speak from the heart. See me as a friend, not as an interviewer. Why do you think you have exceptional customer service skills?”

“Well” I answered “it’s because I love looking after people. As my girlfriend says I love ‘mollycoddling children and pampering elderly ladies’. There is something about care-giving that gives me the deepest satisfaction. I often feel bad that I’m not able to assist people on a day-to-day basis”.

Rosaline nodded, as if affirming some inner thought. Then she gave me the widest, most brilliant smile ever. It reminded me of water in the sunshine.

“I believe I just got a glimpse into your soul” she said, looking at me in a way that made the small hairs on my body rise “thank you for trusting me enough to….”.

Rosaline went on to ask me further questions vis-à-vis diplomacy, customer safety and professional interactions. In between taking notes, her sparkling green eyes kept returning to my tiny, delicate hands. I was acutely aware of the delicate nape of Rosalind’s neck, the haphazard rhythm of her breathing, the perfect spheres of her breasts and a thin film of perspiration on her upper lip. She proceeded to ask me to read a sample in-flight announcement. I read it as crisply and clearly as I could.

At the end of the interview, Rosaline looked elated. “Congratulations, Carlton” she said “You’ve done tremendously well. I liked the way you answered the questions and the affable manner in which you interacted with your peers. After all, they are your future classmates and coworkers. I am happy to announce that you’re eligible for our 8 week training program. However, after gauging your personality, I’m convinced that you’d be more eligible to be a female flight attendant rather than a male”.

“What?!” I said unable to believe my ears.

“You heard me right, Carlton” said Rosaline “I think you are better suited to be an air-hostess, rather than a steward”.

Click here to read the rest of the story.

A Slippery Slope in a Hospital – Sentimental Transgender Romance

A Slippery Slope in a Hospital

  • Title: A Slippery Slope in a Hospital
  • Series: Forced to Work in Girls’ Uniform
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Transgender Category: MTF

Craig/Carol Lovatt: is the 28 year old protagonist of the story. He is a petite, slender, pretty-faced Anglo-Indian who works as a nurse in the renowned Acesco Hospital. He is a responsible nurse, but commits a rare mistake on Valentine’s Night. As a result of his negligence, a patient dies. The patient happens to be the wife of Norman Abbott, the dean of Acesco Hospital. In lieu of being sued for negligence, Craig opts to sign a contract drawn up by Mr. Abbott. The terms of the contract bind Craig to carry out a series of strange instructions given by Mr. Abbott without questioning. One of them entails going to hospital dressed in a female nurse’s uniform and identifying himself as “Nurse Carol Abbott”.

A Slippery Slope in a Hospital

“Forced to Work in Girls’ Uniform” series

Chapter 1 – The Gross Negligence

The time was 9pm. I, Nurse Craig Lovatt had been on the evening shift for a good 7 hours already. Since the date happened to be February 14th, Valentine’s Day, on which it has become a universal ritual to express romantic love towards one’s partner, I had planned a date with my girlfriend Theresa (Tessa, for short). The two of us had planned to meet in a multi-cuisine restaurant named “Rogue Elephant” which is a four hour drive from the hospital.

I had already asked the head nurse, Mildred Bosham, for permission to be allowed to leave the hospital an hour earlier than usual. She, in turn, had spoken to Chief Nursing Officer, Lara Jenkins who had rolled her eyes and said, “At least, four other nurses have asked to be let off duty early on Valentine’s Night. But hey, I think we’ll manage. After all, your personal lives are important to us too”.

I had profusely thanked her before I left. Right now, I made my way into the changing room. I had bought a new grey suit for the occasion. Before stripping, I surveyed myself in the mirror. A beautiful young man in his 20s, wearing the male nurses’ white tunic and associated epaulettes, stared back at me. A pendent watch, a rite-of-passage gift my dad had given me when I had become a full-fledged nurse, dangled on my delicate neck.

“Beautiful” and “Delicate” may sound like unusual adjectives for a man, but they did suit me perfectly. At 5’4, I didn’t have much of my tall, big boned Anglo-Indian parents in me. I was comely and slender, with a body that was dainty and fine-boned. Also, my face was smooth and chiseled like that of people from the North Eastern part of India or perhaps Far Eastern Asia. Since my family was all for cultural interbreeding, I attributed my physical appearance to one of my ancestors having been from East Asia.

I had started unbuttoning my white tunic, when Nurse Bosham’s voice sounded from the door. “Nurse Lovatt” she said peremptorily “come out for a second, will you?”

I buttoned my tunic and stepped out. Nurse Bosham’s round face was lined with worry. “What’s up, Madam?” I asked.

“Nurse Lovatt” Nurse Bosham said in an apologetic tone “could you please stay back for an hour or so, until Nurse Kapadia arrives for the night shift? All the other nurses on the evening shift are absconding, you see. We have an emergency case. The dean’s wife has suddenly been taken ill”. The dean of Acesco Hospital was an American named Norman Abbott. He also ran a health insurance company that funded the hospital. I’d heard that the Abbotts were basically Americans, but had lived in India for a very long time.

“Drat” I thought “Why do such things happen only to me?”

I exhaled audibly and followed Nurse Lovatt to the inpatients’ ward. A grey-haired over-weight woman, roughly in her late 50s, was convulsively jerking her arms and legs. The abrupt movements caused her wiry grey hair to jerk free of her pony-tail, making her look extremely unkempt. I couldn’t help noticing that her night gown was faded and drab. I looked at the patient’s name and age. 57 year old Vivian Abbott wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Epilepsy?” I asked the Nurse Bosham.

“Yes” said Nurse Bosham “plus potential depression of the respiratory system caused by alcohol ingestion. In addition to having fits, Mrs. Abbott is severely intoxicated as well. Dr. Moira Jacob will brief you up about the rest. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have another patient to attend”. With the above information given succinctly, Nurse Bosham left me.

Presently, Dr. Jacob joined me. She was a peevish young woman in her mid 30s. These days, Dr. Jacob was especially bad-tempered, since she was undergoing treatment for infertility. The hormones she had been put on, for egg-retrieval, caused extreme mood swings in her.

“Give her Carbamazepine” Dr. Jacob said to me abruptly “and yeah, since Mrs. Abbott is here for the first time, go low and go slow”.

“Yes, doctor” I said “but don’t you think we need to go through Mrs. Abbott’s medical history first? After all, it might have information we’re unaware of”. I was in the habit of setting up treatment sheets before I started treating any of my patients.

“Good Lord, Nurse Lovatt!” Dr. Jacob snapped “where do I ferret out her history from??”

“We could probably ask….” I said timidly “has someone accompanied her?”

“Yeah, there was a woman who had accompanied her” Dr. Jacob said irritably “I think she’s Mrs. Abbott’s domestic help. The woman has gone to get herself coffee. And we can’t afford to wait for eternity! So, do as I say and give her the goddamn drug!!”.

I wasn’t sure at all if I ought to follow Dr. Jacob’s orders. First of all, we didn’t know Mrs. Abbott’s medical history. In addition, apart from suffering from epilepsy, Mr. Abbott was heavily drunk as well. This aspect made the case more complicated than it looked.

Probably Dr. Jacob wasn’t in the best state of mind because of the hormones injected during her in-vitro treatment. Perhaps I ought to fetch Nurse Bosham. Or consult Ms. Jenkins.

“Don’t obsess, you fool!” a voice inside my head reprimanded “you can still make it to Rogue Elephant. Send Tessa a message and tell her you’ll meet her in about forty-five minutes. And for heaven’s sake, give the patient Carbamazepine like the goddamn doctor is telling you to and be done with it!”

I gave Mrs. Abbott the medicine as Dr. Jacob had ordered. Then Dr. Jacob examined her. After all, the potential depression of Mrs. Abbott’s respiratory system also had to be looked into. During the initial examination, it was documented that Mrs. Abbott was responsive to pain and able to speak in a slurred manner. Also, she could move her extremities. There was no apparent trauma.

Next, on Dr. Jacob’s orders, I shifted Mrs. Abbott into a movable stretcher and wheeled her into the ICU. I evaluated the patient for about ten minutes. The lines on the monitor, monitoring electric activity of the heart, blood pressure etc showed that Mrs. Abbott’s condition was quite stable.

I looked at my pendent watch. It was only 9:30 pm. There was still time to slip away, get dressed and drive to meet Tessa at Rogue Elephant. Mrs. Abbott seemed to be doing quite okay. Besides, Nurse Kapadia would arrive in half an hour.

I left the ICU and surreptitiously slipped into the changing room. I wore the smart grey suit, slicked my hair with hair gel and sneaked unseen into the parking lot through the rear exit of the hospital. Then I got into my second hand red Maruti 800 car and drove down towards Rogue Elephants’……


While I was still dreaming of the sweet kisses and murmurings Tessa and I had exchanged the previous night, I was awakened by the persistent ringing of my mobile phone. I recognized the number on the screen as that of Ms. Jenkins’.

“Good morning, Ms. Jenkins” I sleepily said “what’s up?”

“Nurse Lovatt” Ms. Jenkins’s voice sounded grim “please get here as soon as possible”.

I quickly got dressed in a striped shirt and beige trousers and drove down to the hospital. I met Ms. Jenkins and Nurse Bosham at the entrance. Both of them looked grim, and somewhat accusatory. At that instance, I knew something was seriously wrong.

“You slipped away before your shift ended yesterday” Ms. Jenkins said glaring at me piercingly. Hers was a statement, not a question.

“And you gave the patient Carbamazepine without even having checked her medical history” said Nurse Bosham severely “Did you know Mrs. Abbott was allergic to it?”

“Well, Dr. Jacob asked me to…” I said my mouth going dry “I just followed her orders”.

“We all know very well, Nurse Lovatt” said Ms. Jenkins accusingly “that Dr. Jacob hasn’t been herself lately. Hospital rules state that if there is the slightest doubt in the nurse’s mind, regarding the prudence of a doctor’s decision, they should consult another authority. You can’t blindly follow orders when you know the doctor in charge is wrong. If in your situation, even a novice nurse would have consulted either Nurse Bosham or me”.

I swallowed in panic. It had crossed my mind to fetch either Nurse Bosham or Ms. Jenkins before administering Carbamazepine to Mrs. Abbott. It was something I should have done as a responsible nurse. However, I had decided not to because I was more concerned about my Valentine Night’s date with Tessa.

“Besides, Nurse Lovatt” said Nurse Bosham “you left the patient unattended for half an hour, until Nurse Kapadia got here for the night shift. The minimum standard of care calls upon the nurse on duty to monitor the patient’s respiratory rate every 15 minutes….however, you sneaked away without informing anyone and left Mrs. Abbott’s respiratory status unmonitored…..”

“I am sorry” I said earnestly “I sincerely apologize. It was very unprofessional on my part to leave the patient unattended for so long”.

The two women maintained a stony silence. A strange uneasiness gripped me.

“By the way” I asked timidly “how’s Mrs. Abbott doing today?”

“She died, Nurse Lovatt” said Ms. Jenkins coldly “by the time Nurse Kapadia arrived, Mrs. Abbott wasn’t breathing. She was cyanotic; her pupils were fixed and dilated. The autopsy report is yet to come in, but we suspect respiratory arrest was the cause of death”.

I froze with fear. Mrs. Abbott was dead. It had been my duty to consult with other superiors before administering the dubious drug, but I had omitted to do that. It had also been my–solely my–responsibility to stay back until the end of my shift and to closely monitor the patient’s condition. However, I had slipped away because Mrs. Abbott’s seemed quite stable.

The powerful dean’s wife was dead. And she died because of me.


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A Slippery Slope in a School – Forced to Work in Girls’ Dress

A Slippery Slope in a School

  • Title: A Slippery Slope in a School
  • Series: Forced to Work in Girls’ Dress
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Transgender Category: MTF

In the year of 2002, small-town boy, Simon joins Somerset High, an elite school that caters only to the offspring of the rich and the powerful. Since Simon is a scholarship student belonging to an ordinary family, his uppity classmates initially treat him with contempt. However, as his talents become known, Simon’s popularity soars, leaving school heart throb Sid fuming. Sid resorts to mean, underhanded tricks to pull Simon down.

After Sid plays an especially dirty trick on Simon, school queen bee Richa (who also happens to hate Sid’s guts) offers to help Simon defeat Sid. For this Simon must assume a new identity—that of a female Italian student of royal lineage, “Principessa Simona Marino of Monte Isola”. As the charm of “Simona” casts a spell over the students of Somerset High, Sid’s popularity takes a beating. However, Sid doesn’t mind being beaten by the lovely exotic “princess”.

As weeks fly by, Simon finds himself getting sucked, deeper and deeper, into the quagmire of femininity. As his body is progressively feminized, Simon finds that he is physically attracted to none other than his sworn enemy Sid! However, he also experiences a soul-to-soul connection with the noble Pamela, who, like himself, is a scholarship student of humble origins.

Will Simona choose Sid or Pamela? Will love win over primeval lust?

A Slippery Slope in a School

“Principessa of Monte Isola”
Chapter 1 – A Wily Fox

I sit in my garden, savoring the crisp air and greenery around me. Through the rose bushes and cherry trees, I see Pamela, laughing freely as she spins the merry-go-round where our daughter, Diya is sitting on. Three year old Diya lets out a gurgle of delight. Pamela pushes a strand of straight brown hair behind her ear. She looks extremely young and carefree.

Pamela has been my partner for about 15 years now. There was a time in my life when I had to choose between her and another person. The choice I made changed my life. In spite of my aching youth at the time of critical choice, good sense prevailed. And I am ineffably thankful about that.

Diya, which name means “a lamp”, lit up our home two years ago. Pamela and I came across the emaciated child when the NGO we worked in had sent us to promote literacy and awareness in certain parts of Africa. Baby Diya’s parents had died of Ebola. She was, at that point, being looked after by an impoverished neighbor, who hadn’t yet turned her over to an orphanage.

One look at those beautiful clear eyes, and Pamela and I knew that Diya belonged to us and that we belonged to her. After completing a complicated web of paperwork, we were finally able to bring our baby home, which is in Wimbledon in south west London. Today Diya is a healthy, happy toddler of three. Pamela and I have looked way ahead into the future and made ambitious plans for our child.

As I take another sip of my tea, I think about myself and the extent to which my life has changed. I am Simona, a fair, curvaceous woman of thirty two, with long black hair that falls in loose waves across my shoulders. I enjoy cooking, gardening and of course, rock music. I work for a UK based NGO called “Sparkle”, which works for the eradication of ignorance and superstition, and promotes literacy and awareness in developing countries. I find my job a meaningful one and derive much satisfaction from it. Helping others and knowing that I am making a difference gives me a tremendous high.

I lie back on my hammock and reflect on how far I’ve come. Life for me wasn’t always “Sparkle”. It was also once in “Somerset High”. And the events that transpired in Somerset High changed the topography of my life. It was not in some trifling philosophical way either. The series of minor occurrences that snowballed into a large-scale event drastically changed the course of my life including my identity.

Grandmas narrate fantastic folklores and legends about incidents that never ever occurred. Writers create utopias and dystopias, which are mere concoctions of the imagination. It sometimes feels good to read fiction. However, I prefer reality and truth. For truth is sometimes stranger than fiction. The events that transpired in 2002, and my whole life is testimony to the events.

It all began when I joined Somerset High. Somerset High was an elite highly westernized school, full of children of mostly the rich, powerful and the influential. However, the school offered scholarships to meritorious students hailing from poor or middle-class backgrounds. That is how I, 18 year old Simon Kataria, originally hailing from Alwar in Rajasthan, was able to secure admission into the twelfth grade of Somerset High.

For a boy hailing from a small town, Bangalore provided a bit of a shock. It was full of MNCs, pizzerias and glittering shopping complexes, and was suffused to all over with Western culture–something that I hadn’t been much exposed to at that time. I was astonished to see how modern and techno-savvy everyone was. For a no-frills boy brought up with good values, my classmates provided the biggest shock ever. I was flabbergasted to see how spoilt they were: how much lacking in morals and manners, the ability to work hard and respect for other people. Most of them, I discovered, had little or no merit, but were in Somerset High just because a parent or a relative happened to be a big shot. The students of Somerset High were shallow superficial brats, whose only mission in life, it seemed, was to run others down.

The aforementioned covered Richa Luthra, the queen bee of the school. Richa was very pretty and well-aware of the fact. She turned up to school wearing short sexy dresses, high heels and make up (Somerset High, modeled after American schools, didn’t have a uniform). Richa’s hair was always impeccably styled; her hands neatly manicured. She hung out with another snob called Carlotta Lobo and a quiet girl called Pamela Singh.

The girls weren’t the best of personas, but it was the boys who took the cake. Especially bad was a big boor called Siddharth “Sid” Arora. Sid was the only son of Ramsingh Arora, who was the Cabinet Minister for Railways at that time. Sid had all of his father’s metaphorical weight, but not his scruples. Of course, dazzling good-looks and some amount of natural talent made Sid the most popular boy in Somerset High. Exercise and good nutrition had given him a tall body, which Sid built to perfection by working out for two hours at the school gym every day. He had soft brown hair, finely chiseled features and looked like a young Greek God. A gift of the gab had made Sid win the previous academic year’s elections, as a result of which he was currently the leader of the student body. Sid’s fairly good reverse-sweeps had made him a fairly sought-after batsman. He could carry a tune and strum a chord, so he was lead singer cum guitarist school boy band “Dark Death”.

Needless to say, all the girls in Somerset High had a crush on Sid. They predicted that he and Richa, the prettiest, most popular girl in school would hook up, but somehow that didn’t happen. For reasons unbeknownst to all, Sid and Richa hated each other’s guts. They were always engaging in one-upmanship, trying to put the other down.

A few months after having joined Somerset High, my popularity started escalating. I was the “perfect” height, had smooth milky-white skin and “soulful” brown eyes: features that were adjudged as being easy on the eye. Although I wasn’t as beefed-up as Sid, my slender body was considered quite “hot”. I was diligent and earned the admiration of teachers and respect of peers. I had played much gully-cricket as a child; my scoops, slogs and square-drives soon made me replace Sid as the best batsman in Somerset High. I was fairly articulate, so Sid feared that I’d win the school elections that were a month away.

It was then that the ragging and bullying started. Sid and his two sidekicks named Virat Sharma and Eric Dhawan would waylay everywhere: when on my way to the library, the table tennis hall or the boys’ restroom alone. Then they would incessantly insult me—about my small town back ground, the vernacular accent with which I spoke English, the un-branded clothes I wore and also my looks that they interpreted as feminine. Even though I don’t like to admit that I looked like a girl, I have to confess that I wasn’t as masculine-looking as other boys in their late teens. My face, which sprouted very little facial hair, appeared as smooth as a peach after I shaved. My arms, legs and chest weren’t very hairy, which led the boors to mock (they had seen me swathed in only a towel in the boys’ room, where we showered after cricket practice) that I waxed them. Also, my voice, a pure crystal clear tenor, wasn’t as low and gruff as theirs, leading them to categorize it as “girly”. The way in which I looked, spoke and walked (with a slight sway of the hips, apparently) led the deadly trio to call me a hijra, a pansy and “a boy with a pussy”. I found the last especially derogatory. I, however, decided to ignore their bullying and name-calling, as they weren’t causing any concrete harm to me.

However, soon Sid and his friends started taking their “pranks” to higher, unacceptable limits. They’d sneak into my hostel room and leave mice that would rip up and destroy the essay paper I had stayed up all night to write. The day before an important cricket match, the scoundrels tied a thin string across the stair case as I was traipsing down. In my zeal and enthusiasm, I barely noticed it, and came crashing down like a ton of bricks. The school authorities summoned a doctor, who told me I was lucky not to have broken my neck. I had, nevertheless, sprained my ankle and couldn’t participate in the next day’s match. In my absence, Sid was asked to lead the team and even bagged the Man of the Match award.

Naturally, I was sore. However, since complaining about fellow-students to the school authorities was seen as “sissy”, I decided to tackle Sid’s harassment on my own. Nevertheless, tried hard as I did, I just couldn’t come up with a suitable plan of action to counteract Sid’s persecution. I hoped that time—the best healer—would cure Sid of his depraved, mendacious ways and make him stop haranguing me.

For a few days it did. I thought Sid had finally grown up.

After a geography lesson one day, our class-teacher, Mr. Edwards had something to say: “Sid” he said addressing my rival “I think you have been the lead singer and guitarist of Dark Death for a long time now. How about giving the other boys a chance?”

“Sir!” said Sid in an outraged tone of voice “I had been selected, last year, by popular vote! How could anyone possibly replace me?!”

“I know, Sid” said Mr. Edwards in a placating tone “and I appreciate it. This academic session too, we will conduct auditions and leave the decision to popular vote. The students will decide who they want as the lead singer and guitarist. If they still like you, you’ll be selected again!”

“Okay, Sir” said Sid grudgingly. I could sense that he didn’t like Mr. Edward’s idea at all.

“Good” continued Mr. Edwards “I’ve decided to have the audition day after tomorrow evening. Those of you, who want to audition, please raise your hands. I need to write down your names straight away”.

Four male hands rose up in the air. I threw mine up too. Even though I was from a small town and wasn’t fluent in English, I was deeply interested in rock music. One of my cousins, who worked as a cook in a hotel in America, would get me cassettes and CDs of many a rock star every time he visited Alwar. Therefore, I had grown up on Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, Nirvana and of course, Elvis Presley. The aforementioned relative had also been kind enough to buy me a guitar; hence I knew all my strings, diads and chords.

Sid looked at me in a disparaging way as if to say “you stupid little rustic, don’t tell me you know about rock music?!” I ignored him, knowing that belittling me was just Sid’s way of displaying his insecurity. Deep inside, he knew I’d perform well and that I’d get the better of him.

After school, I walked up to my hostel. I crossed Sid and his cronies at the staircase, but didn’t pay any attention to them. I sauntered into my room and picked up my guitar. I started humming a song from rock band “Deep Purple”, trying to recall the chords.

“Smoke on the Water?” a voice from the door said. I had been so ensconced in my endeavor that I hadn’t noticed that someone had walked up to my door. I lifted my head up to see Eric Dhawan, one of Sid’s friends.

“Yes” I said tersely, not wanting to get into a conversation with one of my archrival’s chums.

“Simon, I can see that you’re angry” said Eric looking apologetic “and I really don’t blame you”.

I remained silent and continued strumming my guitar.

“Listen, I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you” said Eric looking truly remorseful “It’s Sid; he brainwashes us into doing wrong things. I am sick and tired of his ways now. I want to start afresh, as a good person”.

I looked up at him, but didn’t say anything. Eric’s dark eyes seemed honest.

“That’s a good decision” I said and continued playing my guitar.

“Thank you” said Eric gratefully “I hope we can be friends”.

“That might take awhile” I said shrugging.

“Fine” laughed Eric “Meanwhile, would you take a piece of advice from me?”

“Sure” I said.

“Smoke on the Water is too common” said Eric “many people are likely to play it. In fact, I think Sid is going to perform the same piece of music at the audition. If Mr. Edwards finds that both of you are playing the same song, he’s going to disqualify one of you—the one who auditions later. Why don’t you play something else?”

“I haven’t practiced anything else!” I said in horror.

“Don’t panic” replied Eric “Here’s a sheet containing the chords of Bryan Adams’s song “Run to you”. All you have to do is alternate between the A, E and B chords in F#M. There is the D chord also, of course, but that comes later”.

“Thank you, pal” I said gratefully, taking Eric’s hand in mine and shaking them “I owe you one”.

“Oh not at all” said Eric grinning, as he let himself out of the room and shut the door after him.

I spent the next two days alternating the A, E and B chords in F#M. After the first few lines, I alternated between the D and E chord. Since I was a little rusty, it was difficult at first, but I practiced very hard. It had always been my dream to perform in a rock band; an opportunity to make it come true had finally presented itself to me.

On the day of the audition, I picked up my guitar as soon as I came back from school. The time was 3: 45 pm. After having practiced for half an hour, I realized I had to use the bathroom. When inside the toilet, I got the impression that someone had sneaked in. However, when I came out, I realized that there was no one inside. “Just a draft of air perhaps” I told myself. I continued practicing the guitar for all I was worth. I exercised my vocal chords too, by singing the song I was playing. All the time, I kept an eye on the ticking clock. The auditions were to be held at 7: 30 pm sharp at the school auditorium, which was a ten minute walk away from the boys’ hostel. I decided to practice up to 7:15pm, before leaving for the auditorium.

At 7:15, I set out towards the auditorium. As I entered, a boy named Troy was screaming Aerosmith’s “I don’t want to miss a thing” into the microphone. I was surprised to note that the auditions had already begun! Mr. Edwards sat in a corner, listening intently. I noticed Sid, flanked by Virat and Eric, standing in a corner. A few girls had also come to listen to the boys’ audition. I noticed Richa and her friends among them.

Mr. Edwards gesticulated me to take center stage next. “What are you singing?” he asked.

“Run to You by Brian Adams” I said.

“Sorry Simon, but that has already been sung by Sid” said Mr. Edwards “please pick another one”.

I was astounded by what I had just heard. I cast a glance at Sid and Co. Eric’s gloating expression told me what I needed to know. He had deliberately misguided me, so that I got disqualified at the auditions.

However, I was determined not to be disqualified. I had another triumph card up my sleeve: Smoke on the Water.

I told Mr. Edwards I’d perform that number.

“Bad luck, Simon” said Mr. Edwards “Eric’s performed that”.

“Has he had his turn already?!” I exclaimed flabbergasted “it’s only about 7: 30 pm yet!”.

“It’s nearly 8 O’clock” replied Mr. Edwards “the auditions began half an hour ago. I’m sorry to say, but your clock has slowed down. Please do get it checked”.

Since I hadn’t practiced any more songs, I couldn’t perform at the auditions. Sid was, once more, selected as the lead singer cum guitarist of Dark Death. Everyone was ordered to go back to their rooms. As we were parting, Sid deliberately brushed against me and said “better luck, next time, pansy. And yeah, do get that clock checked”.

A memory stirred in my mind. That of a “draft of air”. It might easily have been Sid who had sneaked it and set the clock back by about half-an-hour. As I caught sight of his retreating form, brazenly guffawing and horsing with his friends, fury simmered inside me.

He had played a trick again—the snake. This time Sid had gone too far…..


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A Slippery Slope in an Ad Agency – Forced to Work in Girls’ Dress

A Slippery Slope in an Ad Agency

  • Title: A Slippery Slope in an Ad Agency
  • Series: Forced to Work in Girls’ Dress
  • Author: Yu Sakurazawa
  • Transgender Category: MTF

Zack is the 34 year old wild, unconventional and attractive protagonist of the story. He is tall, has expressive dark eyes and colors his hair blue. As the Creative Head and co-owner of leading ad agency Impressions, Zack has many admirers. His life has its share of schemers with his brother Ben and girlfriend Tania desiring his feminization to meet their own selfish ends. By making a laughing stock of Zack, Ben wants to amass all his popularity. By feminizing him, Tania wants to satisfy her deepest fantasies.

On Tania’s suggestion, Zack dresses as “Zina” to be able to write the perfect ad copy to endorse women’s cosmetics, dresses and lingerie. Slowly and steadily, Tania and Ben trick Zack into completely becoming Zina— with silky long hair, breasts and a pussy. Though Zina is loyal to Tania, she finds that she is powerfully attracted to her client, Daniel Garfield.

A Slippery Slope in an Ad Agency

Chapter 1 – Adman in a Dress

Zack walked in into the smooth glossy interiors of family-owned Impressions Advertising Agency. It was huge and super-successful. Impressions even owned an independent company that handled the array of clients it received and catered to their advertising needs.

As he walked into the room Zack drew admiring glances from his staff on his blue streaked hair, eyebrow-piercings and the tattoo of a Scorpio (his sun sign) on his upper arm visible through the sleeveless denim shirt. His spunk, wit and style also attracted many followers. Zack’s eccentric style of dressing went with his role as the Creative Director of Impressions. Zack was tall, wiry and at the peak of his prime at 34. Many ladies coveted him, but he was loyal to his long time girlfriend, Tania.

Ben, Zack’s 36 years old brother, walked into his cubicle, peeked in and requested to have a word with him. He was as different from Zack as chalk from cheese. Unlike Zack, Ben was pale, ash blonde and lacking in personality. He doubled up as the Accounts Executive and Communications Executive of Impressions Ad Agency, but none of the employees paid him the slightest attention. Even though Ben had equal stakes in the company as Zack, he was never treated as the boss. The younger brother was indisputably the popular one: both professionally and socially. This was the cause of some jealousy in Ben. The fact that he had silently been in love with Zack’s girlfriend Tania was the cause of resentment as well. However, Ben never displayed any of his inner emotions. His manner was bland and matter-of-fact, and expression inscrutable. Nobody suspected that beneath the solid, placid exterior lay a creature simmering with passion.

“Bro” Ben presently said in his flat voice “the biggest client ever contacted us today. He wants us to endorse his line of beauty products for women, that is if we bag the deal”

“And who is the biggest client?” Zack asked curiously.

“Daniel Garfield, of Minerva Products” replied Ben

“No Kidding”! said Zack enthusiastically “he’s one top dog! I bet he has a HUGE budget!”

“That he does” agreed Ben “but don’t cheer this soon. We’ve not hooked Garfield yet. You will have to create an impressive enough ad campaign to do that. Otherwise, he’ll go to Vistas, our rival ad agency.

“I’ll never let that happen” swore Zack “we can’t let that slimy Damon win. I’ll create such a swell hard copy that will blow Garfield away”.

“Well, good luck” said Ben drily “here’s the creative brief’.

Zack went into his cubicle and skimmed through the creative brief written by his brother. It briefly stated the background of the famous Minerva Products, contained a lot of other information, a note about the target audience and the budget. Zack couldn’t help noticing that the budget for the ad of Minerva Beauty Products was a whopping 4 crores’.

“Wow” Zack breathed “that’s’ quite a sum!”. Even though Impressions was a very successful ad agency, it had never got a client with such a big budget before!

“A client with a big budget would mean profits for Impressions and greater pay for the employees; I must clinch this”, he thought his jaw set in determination. Zack sat down to write the catchiest, most persuasive ad copy. He would, later on, create the most appealing website for marketing purposes. Zack was an ace at both words and design.

Tried as they did, the words wouldn’t flow. “Funny” thought Zack “a creative block has never happened to me before”. He attributed his inability to write to the stress created by the big budget assigned to the project and fierce competition from Vistas. He thought of contacting his creative team to brainstorm ideas, but Zack saw that all the cubicles were empty.

It was but obvious why. No one worked on a new year’s eve, especially in the urban metropolitan city of Bangalore. Zack remembered that he had a date with Tania later in the evening. He looked at his watch. Zack had two more hours to go before he was supposed to pick his girlfriend up. For now, he was to work–alone.

Zack wrote many a copy and crumpled the sheets up in frustration. What was wrong with him? Had all his creative juices dried up? It seemed like he had lost his ability to think, leave alone write. Zack crumpled into a dejected mess on the floor and put his head down on his folded knees.

He heard the door knob turn and the door open with energy. “Zack?” breathed a familiar husky sexy voice “what’s up, honey?” Zack raised his defeated face to his girlfriend Tania. She looked stunning in a red gown that complemented her tall, slender figure. Her size eight feet were encased in nude sandals and dark red hair pulled back in a chignon. Tania was more than just a pretty face. She owned the successful Rainbow TV channel that offered ad space to Zack’s agency at a subscribed rate because he was her boyfriend.

Apart from her black handbag, Tania was carrying two rather massive polythene bags with her.

‘Oh! Sorry, darling’ said Zack remembering “I forgot to pick you up. A gorgeous woman like you doesn’t deserve a hopeless boyfriend like me”.

“Hush” Tania shushed Zack putting a lithe finger on his well-formed lips “I can see you’re in a bad place. Tell me exactly what the matter is”.

Zack told her.

“What does Minerva Beauty Products cover exactly? asked Tania

‘Hmmm… the usual thing’ replied Zack “lipsticks, mascaras, eye shadow and stuff, you know.’

Tania listened intently. She had always had a secret kink: to feminize her sexy boyfriend. Even though she didn’t desire to be a man, Tania often dreamed of being the dominant in the relationship and treating the feminized version of Zack as her whore. As Zack spoke, an idea struck Tania. A naughty, wicked idea. She made full use of the opportunity presented to her to her advantage.

‘You know, Zack’ she said in a slow deliberate voice ‘the reason you’re not able to write a good copy is because you aren’t thinking like a woman—after all, they are the target audience of your ad”.

“So, you write it for me” said Zack

“Come on, Zack’ laughed Tania “I am a businesswoman, not a creative!”.

“Well, then I am dead meat today” said Zack holding his head in his hands.

“Not necessarily” Tania smirked and bit her lower lip. Her green eyes twinkled mischievously.

“What do you mean?” Zack blinked.

“You could be a woman for tonight” said Tania “for as long as it takes you to write a good, persuasive copy”

“Ha! You’re joking right?” laughed Zack.

“Never been more serious in my life” said Tania “suppose you’re writing about a car, you’ve got to test drive it first. If you’re writing about a particular candy, you’ve got to taste it. The same applies to beauty products!”

“Damn! I am not doing it!” said Zack.

“Think about it” said Tania “Minerva Products is BIG. If you don’t grab Garfield, Vistas will!”

The thought of the huge hairy Damon getting the ad contract was too much for Zack to bear. “Guess, it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try” he said grudgingly.

“That’s a good sport!” said Tania approvingly. Desire and excitement stirred somewhere down below. Tania’s most erotic fantasy was finally going to come true. But wait… she should never let Zack suspect. He would think she was a pervert. Tania reminded herself to play it cool and act very business-like about the entire affair.

“Okay, where do we start?” asked Zack hesitantly.

“Well, I got an extra dress along” Tania said nonchalantly pulling out a slinky short blue number from one of the polythene carry bags “Just in case I dropped wine or something on the one I am wearing ….. Why don’t you try it on ?”

“In here?” asked Zack looking aghast.

“In the restroom, silly” Tania laughed

“Gents or ladies?” asked Zack dubiously.

‘Why ladies of course” said Tania peremptorily leading Zack across the corridor to the ladies bathroom. He squirmed uneasily as Tania got him to take off his jeans and Bob Marley t-shirt and had him put the flimsy little dress on. Zack did’nt have too much hair on the arms and legs, so the dress didn’t look as grotesque as it would on any other grown male, but Zack’s well-toned biceps, muscular calves and, of course, his flat chest were a giveaway of fact that he was a man dressed in drag.

Zack self-consciously looked at his bony knees and bare arms and nervously said

“You don’t think this is too skimpy, do you?”

“Of course not” said Tania with energy “I think it is perfectly delicate and feminine”.

“God, my feet look so weird in these sneakers!” Zack exclaimed.

“Abracadabra!” said Tania pulling out a pair of transluscent blue slippers from her bag.

“You almost make me feel like Cinderella” grumbled Zack trying them on. Surprisingly, they were the perfect fit .

“Hey!” Zack said getting slightly suspicious now “it’s almost as if you shopped these for me!”

“Of course not, honey” said Tania deceptively “You and I are the same shoe size”.

“Are we?” Zack raiased a skeptical eyebrow, as Tania asked with barely concealed excitement:

“Okay, now where are the Minerva beauty products? You surely have samples”

“They are in Ben’s cabin–in the first draw”

“I’ll get them” Tania who was familiar with the layout of Impressions rushed to Ben’s office and got the kit that contained Minerva beauty products. Trying to steady a hand that was quivering with the excitement of a fantasy supressed for years, Tania bedaubed foundation on her boyfriend’s smooth skin, lined his dark eyes with kohl, curled the lashes with mascara and painted his lips a frosty pink. With each stroke of her the make-up brush,Tania’s pulse quickened. Zack was ACTUALLY metamorphosing into “Zina”, the lover she had dreamt about over and over again!

Zack confused her excitement for dizziness. He thought a fanting spell was coming over Tania. “Honey, are you okay?” he asked concerned “shall I get you a gin and tonic?”

“Of course, I am okay” said Tania steadying herself and giving Zack a bright artificial smile. “Now excuse me, I’ve got to change”. She disappeared into one of the toilets with the other bag she had brought with her and emerged a few minutes later wearing a neatlytailored black two-piece suit and a tie with blue and white stripes. Zack noticed that she had put on a pair of men’s black loafers.

“Where has that come from?” asked Zack zapped.

“Oh, I first brought you an extra pair of clothes as well” Tania fabricated “in case you spilt whiskey or something on the ones you’re wearing”. Before Zack could react, Tania grabbed him by the arm and said:

“ Let’s hit the pub and welcome 2016, baby!’.

“Are we going like this?” asked Zack incredulously.

“It would be fun” Tania coaxed.

“It would be ridiculous” Zack corrected.

“Come on, baby” Tania cajoled “we’ve been a dull conventional couple for SO LONG! Don’t you want some zing… some chutzpah in our love life?

“I am content the way we are” replied Zack.

“Don’t be such a bore, Zack”, Tania said “for a creative, you are pretty dull”. She pursued her month in a pout. “Dull” Tania had just called him. Dull. The word could sound a death knell to their relationship. Zack realized it was evident that Tania felt their relationship was beginning to stagnate. If she continued to feel that way, there may be a chance that she would leave him. And Zack could never envisage the prospect of losing a smart and beautiful girlfriend like Tania. He loved her to distraction.

‘Okay babe’ he said grinning reluctantly ‘I guess I’ll oblige this eve’.

‘That’s my chick..I mean, dude!’ said Tania hugging him exuberantly ‘thank you, darling’.

‘Hey, but what about my creative copy??’ said Zack remembering.

“You can complete it after dropping me home” said Tania leading Zack down the corridor towards the exit. A few accountants and employees from the media buying department had decided to spend New Year’s Eve working away. Creatives, whose dates had stood them up, had also decided to return to office and finish up pending work. They were completely unprepared from the sight that confronted them; that of their favorite boss in a revealing blue dress and makeup being lead down the corridor by his suited-booted girlfriend. They stopped whatever they were doing and gaped at the couple. One saucy executive called Sally gave Zack a flighty look and remarked:

‘Seems like you’re getting in touch with the woman in you Zack’

Emboldened by Sally, timid Dean said: ‘So you let the lady wear the pants?’

‘Ha ha!’ Zack simpered actually distressed at all the attention that he was getting “Tania and I decided to swap genders for the night!”

There was some embarrassed tittering from the subordinates.

“Whatever floats you boat, boss” a malicious voice reached Zack as he stepped outside the office building and moved towards the parking lot “whatever floats your kinky boat!”

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