Employee of the Month, Part 1 (Patreon)

A Story Tier Prompt for Jack Mackenzie

Francis Howard is a young, cocky alpha male who is heir to his father's business empire. Promoted to head of marketing, he quickly earns the ire of his team for his chauvinistic and oppressive management style. But one day Francis discovers he has Lumin's Syndrome, a rare genetic condition that means his body is turning into a woman's. Francis races to fight the changes, before his reputation within the office takes on a very different dimension.

Part 2 

Employee of the Month, Part 1

Francis was young, fresh out of college, and cocky as hell. He’d gone through life resting on his father’s legacy as the creator and CEO of Howard Enterprises, and had just entered the business as a mid-tier executive in charge of the marketing department. This was only a temporary measure; he had no doubt in his mind whatsoever that he’d be made partner in good time, so long as he kept a firm hand on the reins of his new department. After all, it was important that the workers had at least an impression that this was a meritocracy. The truth was Francis was the golden boy, the elder brother to a brother Jared and sister Peyton, and the natural heir to his father’s empire. He was tall, fit from his daily gym sessions, and always wore the most expensive suits and the finest shave and hair style. A self-described ‘player’, he’d skated through college on straight A’s by outsourcing the work to various egg-heads in exchange for some drip-feeds of cash, all while he pursued the most beautiful babes on campus. He quickly picked up a reputation as a ladies man, one who couldn’t be trusted to keep faithful to any one woman.

“I’m a shark in a world of minnows,” he’d often say when others criticised him for his unearned success or attitude towards women, “you’ve got to be a predator in this life, or else you’ll end up prey. I just hunt the things I like.”

It was an approach to life that earned him many female admirers initially, but he left a string of heartbreak in his wake, his alpha male attitude unable to accept the possibility of continuous dating: he was more than happy to cheat on several women at a time, and keep a bra or set of panties as a ‘trophy’.

“Sexual conquest is the most important conquest,” he once told one of his servile buddies, “because we’re all just primal animals in the end. Sex is everything. It’s power, it’s control, it’s dominance. And the difference between an alpha wolf and a whipped beta dog is that an alpha knows we’re all animals, and that the one who leads the pack is the one that gets all the pussy. That’s what it’s all about. Just ask my Dad; he’s had three wives, and still steps out when he wants. Because women crave that shit. It’s like honey to them. It pulls pussy big time.”

Those who were in his graduation class that joined Howard Enterprises as engineers and financial specialists and the like always hoped that Francis would wise up and grow up. Initially, those hopes seemed well-founded: when he was put in charge of the marketing department, Francis put on a good show of an introductory speech.

“Hello everyone, as you may know, my name is Francis Howard. Yes, son of that Percy Howard. So I’m sure you’re thinking that I’m unapproachable, irresponsible, and just here for the perks. Nothing could be further from the truth. I’m here not as a representative for my father, but as a team leader for you. Marketing is the heart and soul of any business, because it’s you guys who make the product sellable. The engineers and money guys may seem important, but it’s marketing that could sell a tin of crackers at fifty a pop just by giving it that special flourish. Here is where the magic happens, and it’s my job to lead you to bigger and better outcomes, for all our benefits.”

The speech got a short applause, as was standard, but several in the office, such as Clara Richards, were genuinely hopeful. She hadn’t known Francis personally, only by reputation, and she was convinced that despite what was said about him, he might be a good leader.

But Francis quickly revealed his true colours within the office environment. As a boss, he had a little vision and a lot of power, and preferred to make demands on project deadlines that were untenable unless the staff worked unpaid overtime, all while he enjoyed ‘business meetings’ which were usually little more than golf trips with the company board and his father. The rank and file began to detest him, but could not complain given his familial connections; they were more likely to be turfed out of the company than he was, and Francis knew it.

The women in the office hated him the most. A chauvinistic party boy, Jared often leered at “the girls”, as he called them, his eyes wandering to their chests more than their eyes. He often told his fellow management buddies this.

“I love a good-looking girl in an office uniform. Those tight professional blouses and tight pencil skirts. I’m telling you, paper pusher girls always go crazy for it, and I swear the receptionist girls are always playing coy. I bet they’re wild between the sheets.”

His mates laughed as he said this, and the women of the department began to hear rumours that Jared and his buddies had begun rating the women of the office from ‘hottest’ to ‘nottest’, much to their incandescent fury. At the very top of the list was Clara. The brunette woman was only in her early twenties, and was working as a temp on little pay to make ends meet. Nevertheless, she had a classic Golden-Age-of-Hollywood look, and her red lipstick only improved her looks. In her white shirt and dark grey pencil skirt, she cut an attractive image, and it was clear Francis desired her as his ‘office conquest.’

“Yeah, she’s single,” Harvey told Francis one day after being asked. Harvey was the project head who despised Francis for the deadlines he had placed him under. “But I think she’s more focused on the job, sir.”

Francis smiled, observing Clara as she bent over to grab some files from her cubicle. Her fine ass pressed firmly against the pencil skirt, leaving a suggestion in his mind that salivated to see beyond the fabric.

“Oh, well, I’m just grabbing some personal information to get all my employee details known. It’s important to me to get to know all my employees. Very closely.”

The last was as she turned around and smiled at him. He returned a genuine smile. Harvey looked to Elijah, a pudgy man across the aisle in his early 30s who Francis often made fun of. The two shared a weary look, knowing exactly what their boss was implying.

“How are those images coming, Elijah?” Francis suddenly asked, turning to the graphic designer.

Elijah fumbled a little, trying to bring up his progress, feeling pressured under his boss’s eye. “Oh, um, ah, here we are. Nearly finished. It’ll be done tomorrow.”

“Make it tonight. Stay late if you have to. I’ll be here.”

“Uh, well, Mr Howard, it’s just that tonight I’m supposed to meet my mother for Chinese at Ling’s. It’s the best in town.”

Francis laughed. “Oh come on Elijah, do you want to make Employee of the Month or not? Howard Enterprises expected you to give it your all, not go gallivanting about making dates with mommy.”

Elijah’s face fell. “I suppose so, Mister Howard. I’ve been trying to prove myself.”

“That’s the spirit! Stay late tonight, and I promise you that award and recognition. Your face will go right up outside my office. Besides,” Francis tapped Elijah on his pudgy belly, “it’s not like you need any more stuffing anyway!”

He chuckled lightheartedly as he left, leaving Elijah despondent and Harvey fuming. As soon as he reached Clara, his demeanour changed. He had been continually kind to her, respectful at all times, and laid on the flirtiness in healthy doses. He could tell she found him attractive, and it was all about spooling in the latest catch. She was just a temp, after all, and he had all the power.

“Clara, my dear, you have done such excellent work! Pretty and dedicated, I’ve half a mind to ask you out.”

She gave a light laugh. “Oh, sir, it’s nothing. I want to prove my worth to Howard Enterprises, and hopefully get permanent employment.”

Her face was all brightness and naivete, and it made him joyful at how easy this might be. “That’s wonderful!” he declared. “I tell you what, I’ve got to head to an important meeting tonight and don’t have time to go home. Would you like to accompany me to a nice Chinese restaurant called Ling’s? I hear it’s the best in town.”

Her hazel eyes went wide. “Oh, sir, I’m not sure if that’s appropriate, is it?”

He waved her off. “Nonsense! It’s extremely appropriate. I treat all my employees to dinner. Don’t listen to the rumour mill from the jealous ladies at the front desk. I want to know all about you Clara, see what makes you tick. It may even lead to permanency.”

Her face lit up.

That night, after a date that went exceedingly well - he’d have to tell poor Elijah how good the food had been - Francis lay on top of the squirming Clara, his rock hard penis deep inside of her. She moaned sweetly, cradling her slight breasts as he thrusted into her aggressively, dominating her as an alpha male should. The meeting had been called off, at least so he’d told her - it had never existed - and he had taken great pleasure in taking her back to his place once she was sufficiently wooed by his natural charisma and handsome frame. And so it was that she yielded to him, spreading her legs wide as he went harder, and harder, and harder, until . . .

“NNgghh!”

His seed was spent into his condom, and he collapsed upon her. She came with him, much to his delight, and the two breathed together; his breath rugged and manly, hers high and feminine. Finally, he slid out of her, causing her to elicit another soft moan, and she nestled against him.

“That was . . . oh, Francis, that was amazing,” she said. “I never realised that’s how it would feel.”

He perked up at that comment. “You - you’re a virgin? How?”

She grinned a little, blushing on her pale cheeks. “I - it’s embarrassing. I didn’t mean things to go this far. I’ve been saving myself. For someone special. I had no idea it would be my boss. It’s all just happened so fast!”

Francis smirked. So, she was a bit of a minnow. Well, a minnow couldn’t swim with the sharks, but she didn’t need to find that out yet.

“Of course dear,” he said, caressing her hair, “I feel the same way. You’re just so beautiful, and I want you. In fact, in fifteen minutes or so, I may just want you again.”

He did. She did. Several times across the night, in fact. And the following week was the best of Clara’s life, hanging on Francis’ arm as they attended galas and dinners, and crying out for pleasure as he took her, his bed a site of primal, animalistic sex. He even made her Employee of the Month, a prestigious prize in the office as the winner was awarded a nice bottle of red. Elijah looked utterly depressed for some reason, but Francis didn’t really care what the fat loser wanted. Yes, it was the best week of Clara’s lift, followed by the worst.

“You - you’ve been cheating on me? How - how could you?”

Tears flooded her eyes. It had been a week, and while looking for her missing panties, Clara had stumbled upon Francis with another woman he’d met at a nightclub the previous evening.

“Please Clara, cheating is so . . . formal,” he said. “I’ve been honest the whole time we’ve been together.”

“You said you loved me!”

He wagged his head. “No, I said I found you beautiful. And I do. But there are many beautiful women, and one is not enough for a leader of the pack like me. Now why don’t you run along back to the company and I’ll see you there. We can still go on our date tonight, we’re just not exclusive. You know how it is.”

Clara fled the building in tears, and he resumed his pleasures with the other woman - Christine - who apparently was also a Howard Enterprises employee who worked in finance, but was more into the one-night stand scene. They made love without a care in the world for Clara, but as much as the sex was enjoyable, Francis’ chest ached whenever his new partner touched it. She loved to feel his chest, but his well-defined pecs seemed a little too sensitive, and it frustrated him. He finished less excitedly than usual and sent her packing a little too quickly - what could have been a fun weekend of fucking ended with her shouting obscenities at him for hiding her bra.

But Francis was unmoved, and as he rose from the bed to take a shower, he stretched his muscles, feeling as if a bandaid had been ripped off. Only, something was definitely still off about his chest. In the bathroom mirror, he could see that his nipples were darker than usual, and slightly swollen, and what’s more, his pecs appeared a little swollen. He turned sideways, and sure enough, they looked as if they had expanded somewhat. It verged on grotesque without being so, but certainly appeared a little unnatural.

“Weird,” he commented to no one in particular, and stepped into the shower.

But rather than relaxing him, the shower only made him feel more out of place. The hot water made him shiver like a little girl; it was as if his skin had overnight become much more sensitive. There was shivers of pleasure in it, but also weakness, and Francis despised weaknesses. He ended the shower, and waited for the steam to clear. He parted his hair - he hadn’t realised how much he needed a haircut recently - and looked over himself once more. Still, his nipples were oddly larger, and his pecs a little swollen. His arms too, were a little different, and it took him a few minutes to see why; they were less hairy than usual.

“I can’t let anyone see me like this,” he muttered, “they’ll think I’m some sort of metrosexual freak or something.”

He quickly put on his shirt and boxers, but as he raised the latter, he was shocked when they resisted against his hips. He had to pull tightly to raise them, shimmying them up his thighs, and when they were finally on they felt stretched and quite tight upon him. Again he inspected himself. Had they shrunk in the wash? There was no way his hips had gotten wider, right?

“Fuck it,” he said, “I’m going to a doctor.”

He called work and organised a day off. Fully paid of course. And just for a little show of dominance, he shot an email to Harvey with a list of expectations that needed to be cleared by the end of the day. Perhaps the day off would be a blessing - Clara could cool off and might even be up for some rebound dicking before she fully went off him.

The GP saw him immediately, another benefit of having money; the private health system did wonders for a top dog.

“It’s weird doc,” Francis said to the balding man who nodded every few sentences he spoke, “it’s like there’s this strange puffiness. As you can see, it’s affecting my nipples and chest, and even my hips feel a little funny. On the drive over here, my junk felt numb for a little bit, and my whole stomach is starting to do somersaults. I think it might be some weird virus. Probably what laid out one of my many employees. Not me, of course; but I figure better safe than sorry, right?”

The doctor simply nodded, which wasn’t actually reassuring. “Well, this doesn’t match many conditions I know of, but certainly swelling can be caused by fluid buildup. Let me take some blood samples and I can get back to you in three days, how about that?”

Francis nodded, and put his shirt back on. He felt vulnerable in the doctor’s room, and he hated feeling vulnerable.

Over the next three days, Francis returned with a vengeance to work, making sure to wear a suit to cover his strange chest. Harvey was under more pressure than ever to get the campaign ready for their newest product, and Elijah was having to stay late nights, to the detriment of his own health. Meanwhile, Clara was teary-eyed and comforted by other women, and seemed to have entered almost a robotic state in his presence. Francis was unbothered; being an alpha meant the betas in life often resented you, but what did irritate him was the way his chest continued to itch, and he had to resist the urge to scratch his puffy nipples or the undersides of his pecs. In fact, he had taken to wearing a light wrap just to secure his chest; it prevented a slight outline against his suit. To his embarrassment, he’d secretly had to have his trousers tailored a little wider around the hips, and even in the warm heat of a vibrant summer, he maintained his suit at all times; he didn’t want anyone to see that his arm and leg hair was fading. It made him look foolish when he went golfing with his father and the board, particularly as he was sweating more than usual.

He joked that he was on call as project manager, and needed to keep up appearances, but his father had none of it.

“Don’t ever embarrass me like that again, Francis,” he said, jabbing his son in his sore chest. “Who golfs in a three piece suit? No one! You’re meant to be the heir, son, so shape up and stop sweating like a damn maniac.”

“Yes father, I’m sorry.” It was humiliating to say, but if his father said it, he was right. His father was the original alpha male, and Francis was determined to follow in his footsteps.

“Good. And for God’s sake, you look terrible. You’re sweating your weight out.”

It was true. In only three days, Francis had lost weight. It was actually starting to worry him. He’d called Doctor Greene, but the results weren’t back until the following day. It was a relief when he finally got the call the next day, but then the ominous sentence that followed put a greater fear in him:

“Come in immediately. We need to discuss your condition in person.”

Condition. Condition. He didn’t like the sound of that. He took his sportscar and weaved through traffic, pissing off the regular denizens of the city as he made his way to the specialist. Doctor Greene was among the best money could buy, so it had to be serious. He didn’t even wait in reception - he was called straight through to the serious man, who was with several other doctors, all looking pensive and fascinated.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Francis asked.

Doctor Greene bade him sit, and he did.

“Francis, I need you to listen to me very carefully. It is good that you saw me when you did. Catching this early made it so we can prepare for what comes next.”

“Fuck, it’s serious isn’t it? A tumour? Shit, do I need to get operated on?”

The doctor waved away his concern. “Nothing like that. Nothing fatal or dangerous. But serious, yes. Very serious. Have you heard of Lumin’s Syndrome?”

Something about it was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Something that was on the news a few years back, perhaps . . .

“Can’t say I do, Doc. I’m guessing that’s what I have?”

The doctor nodded gravely. “It is. Lumin’s Syndrome is a particular chromosomal condition affecting both males and females, though more common in the former. Still, it is exceedingly rare; to my knowledge, there have only been sixteen recorded cases. So few, in fact, that we ran your test results that many times just to be sure you had it. Unfortunately, your blood carries every indicator, as do your changes.”

“Yeah, okay, so it’s rare, but it’s not fatal? Shit, does it make me disabled or something?”

“No, your mobility will not be affected.”

“Then what? What!?”

The doctor’s silence was clearly from a hesitation on how to explain it, but seeing Francis’ questioning, he sighed and said it outright.

“Francis, Lumin’s Syndrome means your Y chromosomes are dying and being replaced by X chromosomes.”

The young manager was not stupid. “Wait, so that means . . .”

“You’re becoming a woman. In body, and potentially mind as well. The pec swelling is the early growth of breast tissue, and your nipples are developing female areola. Your widened hips are also a result of this, as is the body hair loss. Your increased hair volume on your scalp is a symptom of each previous patient with Lumin’s Syndrome also. The queasiness you feel is likely the alteration of internal organs in preparation for the growth of a womb, and the numbness in your genitals is most certainly -”

Francis stood in alarm, knocking back the seat and startling the various GPs. “Jesus, it’s not fucking getting to that! If that’s what’s happening then what do we do next? When do we treat it?”

The doctors appeared to confer for a moment.

“We don’t.”

Francis’ jaw fell.

“Explain.”

Greene sighed once more. “There is no cure for Lumin’s Sydnrome, and traditional treatments have backfired. We can’t put you on testosterone supplements; this was tried in the last case and only radicalised the change. Surgery is right out; your body is in a state of formation, your DNA is literally reconstructing your body into femalenes. Any attempt to remove breast tissue would only cause you pain and the efforts would be wasted after a few days of regrowth. In fact, it might even exacerbate the growth. The only thing we can do is advice you as your body changes, monitor and learn what we can, and bring your case some attention so that funding can -”

“No way. No fucking way Doc! I am not turning into a laughing stock around the office. My Dad would disown me. Do you have any idea how many ex-girlfriends will laugh at me? Me! Francis Howard, the damn shark! You need to find a way to fix this!”

The doctor smiled wanly. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll need more blood samples. In the meantime, please try to reconsider what I’ve said.”

Francis allowed the blood samples and other quick tests, but the news continued to stew in him, and soon he was entering into full denial mode. As soon as they were finished, he was putting his clothes back on and moving to the door, his mind now asserting control by entering ‘dominance mode’. Getting the final word in before exiting a door was a classic power move, and it was giving him control in the wake of this horrifying revelation.

“No, you reconsider what I’ve said. I’m doubling your pay, hell, I’m tripling it. Right now I’m your only patient, and you’re going to find a way to stop this Lumin Syndrome bullshit. No way I’m getting a pussy. I’m Francis fucking Howard, and I’m going to work while you solve this shit.”

He took off into the street, and drove his sports car back to work, revving loudly as he arrived, as if to reassert his manhood. Francis refused to let the office see him as weak. He entered confidently, issuing orders left and right, and moving to his central office. It was all about control, and so long as he had control, he could beat this.

“Come one people, remember, it’s still anyone’s game to be Employee of the Month!”

But as he made his way past his secretary, some of the staff couldn’t help but notice that the backside of his trousers looked a little more rounded out than usual, and he had developed a slight sway to his hips.

It was only the first sign of many changes to come.

To Be Continued . . .