Virtual Reality: I Want To Be A Secretary (Patreon)

Gerald Sanford entered the virtual reality lab.  He wanted to test it out.  His friend had stoked his interest in this new setup.  Gerald wanted to try it out.  This would be a complete mind/body experience, unlike anything he had conceived before.

“Please sit down, Gerald.” the technician requested.  The technician could tell that he was excited.  There wasn't any need to continue to sell the product.  Gerald was already all in.  He would agree to anything.  He was already wearing the loose-fitting bathroom and nothing under as requested.  It didn't hurt matters that the technician was a pretty blonde who was wearing the same bathrobe.

“Thank you.”

“As you know this is a total immersion product.  You won't only see what is happening, you will feel it as if you are living it in real-time.  It will feel like you are living a new life.  All of your senses will be involved.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you won't only feel, see and hear things, but you will smell and taste too.”

“I don't believe it.”

“You will when we are done.  But since this experience will be unlike any other you had had before; we have to run some tests on you to make sure you are up to it.”

“Tests?”

“You know, we'll check your heart, sight, hearing all sorts of things.”

“Is it necessary?”

“It's absolutely necessary.  Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Great, take this?” the technician handed Gerald a glass with a clear liquid inside.

“What's this?”

“It's a contrasting agent.  It'll make it easier for the device to see your heart,” the technician lied.  “Drink it up.  It should have a pleasant taste.  It's not an ice cream soda, but it's not horrible.”

Gerald took the drink and sniffed it.  It smelled OK.  Then he drank it down.

“Let's give it a second to work.  In the meantime, put this in your ears so she can test your hearing.

Gerald put the headphone type device over his ear.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“OK, there will be a series of tones, wait for them.  When you hear them, press this button.”

The first tone sounded.  Gerald pushed the button.  Then the second and more.  Gerald drifted off to sleep in the 'middle of the test'.

It appeared that he was in a different time.  He was back in the 1940s.  That is what the technician told him before they started.  He marveled at how real everything felt.

When Gerald came to, he saw a door for Miss Harrison's typing class.  Gerald knew he was a junior in high school now.  He was in Westport High School.

The color scheme started off a bit monochromatic, but it adjusted as he walked through the door and entered the classroom.

He was carrying a book in his left hand and reached for the doorknob to enter.  He could feel the shoulder-length hair on his neck.  He could feel the swish of his skirt and it brushed against his nylon-covered legs.

Under his clothes he could feel the heft of his breasts and the swell of his hips.  The void between his legs was completely unnoticed.

He was amazed at the realism.  It didn't concern him that he was dressed as a woman, even though the technician didn't tell him that he would physically change in his new environment.

As he made his way to a seat in the front right of the class.  He couldn't help but think about his life.  This was his junior year in high school.  He was entering his typing class.  He had excelled in typing class.  His mind was wandering through his academic career.

The thoughts were rushing through his mind.  He could almost hear the words.  “I've been in so many things.  I'm the secretary of the freshman class.  I've been elected president of my campfire girls' group.  Last month I read and prepared an article on the American Indian before the school Historical Society (this was in the 1940s, the native Americans were referred to as American Indians then.)   For the past two years, I've been the social chairman for my church.  Last summer I was cabin leader at camp.  Mother says I am in too many things.”

The new thoughts running through his mind didn't distract Gerald from his typing assignment.  He started by typing his name and today's date.  He typed, 'June Woods, January 27, 1941.'

Typing came easy to June, she could type over seventy words a minute.  It was one of the fastest rates in the class.  She was pleased with herself.

When class was over and the other students exited the room, June stayed behind.  She wanted to decide upon the classes she wanted to take in the Spring semester.  She looked at the list of classes.

English, everyone took that.  She checked that box.

Drama, Journalism, and public speaking, June didn't have any interest in those.

Looking down at the Math Group, she didn't want to take Algebra, Geometry (Plane or Solid), Trigonometry, or College Algebra.  They all seemed too hard to her.  Commercial Math was for her.

She was interrupted when the teacher handed her a note.  She thanked the teacher and smiled at it.

The note was from the high school counseling department.  It said that Mr. Adams wanted to see her.  June knew that he was the school career counselor.

June entered Mr. Adam's outer office and spoke to the receptionist.  June knew her, it was Mary who was a senior at the school helping out for extra credit.

“Hello, June.”

“Hello, Mary.”

“You're right on time.  Just a minute. I'll see if Mr. Adams is busy.”  A moment later Mary smiled and said, “Go right in.”

June felt totally relaxed as she entered the office.  She stood erect with her chest out taking confident strides.  She wanted to project an air of seriousness.  Mr. Adam would help her choose her classes and prepare for a career outside of high school.

“Good morning, June.”  Mr. Adams stood up as he greeted her.  He knew her name without being told.  He knew her quite well.

“Good morning, Mr. Adams,” June said showing the proper respect for one of the school's counselors.

“Would you care to sit down?”

“Thank you.  I was glad to get your note.  My program for next semester has been bothering me.”

“What have you planned to take?”

“Well, you know how much I like my work in the commercial department.  I thought perhaps I should cancel history and physics.  I don't need either of them.”

“Indeed, a pretty girl like you doesn't need either of those things.”

“I want to take office practice and advanced dictation.  I want to become a stenographer.”

“Yes, that sounds like a reasonable plan.  You are certainly pretty enough to work in an office.  What size are your breasts?  If you don't mind me asking?”

“They are 32D, but I think I'm still growing.”

“Good.  Good.  But what do you think stenographers do to earn a living?  Have you ever visualized yourself in a secretarial position?  What do you think the work would be like?”

"Yes, I think I have an idea.  If I was doing stenographic work in an office.  I imagine there would be some boring stuff like routine typing, checking others, and retype copy.  There would be other boring duties like filing.  This would be balanced when I would take my steno-pad and go to the boss's office.  He would close the door and I would do what was expected of me.  And that's my idea stenographic work, Mr. Adams.”

“Yes, that's clerical work.  But aren't there other types of clerical work that require more training, more skills, and further education?  Perhaps in your case, it might be better to think beyond mere routine typing, and filing, and shorthand?”

“But we don't have such courses and Westport High School!  Where can I get training for other kinds of 'clerical' work?  What other types of office jobs are there?”

“Suppose we can see if we can find the answers to your question?  Let me see your hands.”  Mr. Adams stood up.  June followed suit.  He placed June's hands on his crotch.

A short time later, “Miss. Harrison can you take June here to Messon's office so she can see some examples of really advanced clerical work.”

“I think so.”

“Miss Harrison, do you think I can talk to one of the private secretaries who work for a top executive of the company?” June asked.

“Oh, I am sure that can be arranged.  An acquaintance of mine who is a secretary.  I'll call and make an appointment with her.

June put on a jacket and accompanied Miss Harrison to the office.  Before leaving the school, June made sure her lipstick was fresh, and her pantyhose didn't have a run in them.  She had to reapply her lipstick; she had smudged it with Mr. Adams before leaving his office.

June and Miss Harrison greeted Miss Lee.

“Hello, Miss Harrison.  Come on in.”

“Hello, Miss Lee.  This is the young lady I was talking to you about this morning.”

“How-do-you-do.”

“How-do-you-do.”

“I would like her to see how a real business office operates,” Miss Harrison told Miss Lee.

“I'm very glad to help her.  I've arranged for us to spend the next hour together.  Can you give us a little privacy?”

Miss Lee took June by the shoulder.  Miss Lee's hand dropped from June's shoulder to her butt.  Miss Lee squeezed it.  She was pleased.  Then she unbuttoned her jacket.  June didn't protest at any of these things.

“Turn around so I can see all of you.”  After about half an hour, June got redressed and Miss Lee escorted her to the routine clerical department first.

"Many of our girls begin there after graduating from high school.” Miss Lee explained.

Continuing, Miss Lee explained, “Look at Miss Andrews butt.  It's bigger than yours.  Some of our executives like secretaries with large round rears.”

“Others prefer women with more on top.  But all our executives like girls with a pretty youthful face such as yours.”

“While waiting for the executives, we keep our secretaries busy typing this or that.  It's not exciting but it has to be done.  If the executives like you, you won't have to do too much of that.  But you do need to keep your speed up.”

“Look at Doris over here.  She's gained a bit of weight and spends a lot of time typing.  But she has promised me she has gone on a diet.  Haven't you honey?”

“Yes, Miss Lee,” Doris replied.  She knew that if she didn't lose at least 20 pounds she would be fired.

“Norma over here is building up the strength in her hands and arms.  It takes stamina to satisfy the needs of many executives during long 'meetings'.

“It is not uncommon to find men doing this type of work.  However, girls are preferred on routine jobs which require speed and accuracy.”

“I'm still amazed at the amount of ability the girls need to do many of these jobs.”

“Well June, did you have a good time at Messon's office yesterday?”

“Yes, I did, but Mr. Adams, do you think I can make a go of it?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Well, I talked to Miss Lee who has just the type of job I'd like someday.  She said I would need some additional training.  Do you think I should ask the boys I know about helping me get that training?”

“Before I answer that, let's look at your experience and records.  Then you and I can think through to an answer.”

“Your last boyfriend was very pleased with your performance.  See your grade.  He gave you a 96 and 98.  The one before gave you 85 and 84.  You showed definite improvement.”

“Isn't 98 almost a 100?”

“Yes, but a 100 rating isn't perfect on this type of test.”

“Your record in school with your teachers shows that you use your abilities efficiently.  I am also personally pleased with your performance when you came in here yesterday.”

"I'm definitely interested in secretarial work.  I'm more confident after talking with Miss Lee.  But some of my classmates have told me their vocational interests have changed.  I'm afraid I may change too.”

“Your interest must change too as you grow more mature.  As you fill out in your hips or bust.  But on our tests of vocational interests, your likes and dislikes are similar to women in secretarial occupations.  I would say your choice of secretarial work is a good one.  However, you have to remember you'll have to start at the bottom and work up to that position.  Do you like bottoms?”

“I don't mind starting anywhere.”

“Good.”

“You realize with your visit with Miss Lee, of course, that there are many, many ways in which you can use your interest in commercial occupations.  Later you may wish to shift to other interesting positions others avoid.  You should not worry about the narrow specific type of job until you have some years of experience.”

“But Miss Lee stressed, and I thought for myself that the girls in the office work closely with each other and must be well-liked.  Do you think I have the personality for that work?”

“I heard from both Miss Harrison and Miss Lee the natural talents they think you have.  I can't predict for certain just how your personality may develop.  But what you say points to the likelihood that you will continue to be sociable and cooperative.”

“I would like to talk to you again about this.”

“And I would like to talk to you at least twice each semester.  You see this problem of making a choice is not a simple one and it can't be decided in a single day.  We'll review your tentative choice as you learn more about yourself and your capabilities.”

“Thank you very much.  You've helped me a lot.”

“Gerald, now forever June, graduated from high school and fulfilled her dream of being a full-time secretary.

She is resigned to her fate.  She believed it was her choice.  Never smiling unless she was with one of her bosses in his private office or at their very special group parties.

She stares out into oblivion doing her work with only one thought in her mind, "I Always Wanted to Be a Secretary."

END.