The Promotion

You had a good feeling about that promotion. The interview had gone really well, and your bosses had always been impressed by your performance and eager attitude, always taking on initiatives and extra responsibilities, so when the management position had applied, you had been strongly encouraged to apply for it. Obviously, there was quite a bit of competition despite you being the running favorite, as this job was a steppingstone to upper management, pretty much a requirement for anyone to have any career progression within the team. And at your young age of 31, you felt it was an honor to be considered, and would be the youngest person in that role in years if you managed to get it.

Your biggest competition for the position was James, who was a senior amongst the staff, the one with the most experience in his position. While you were young and eager, he was older and more comfortable with his tasks. Too comfortable. He didn’t take on more than he needed to, because why would he? He had proven his worth over the years and didn’t intend on doing any more than he needed to. He felt entitled to this promotion, being the employee with the most seniority, and was growing increasingly frustrated in getting passed on promotions, time and time again, not understanding that maybe it was him and his attitude that had him stuck in the same role for so many years.

So, when you noticed him coming over to your workstation, you were afraid to hear bad news, to hear him gloat over you. But then you noticed his angry face and figured that maybe he was the one to have received some bad news.

“Fuck you Larry, you think you are so good and so smart, everyone knows that I should have had that promotion and not you. Well, they told me you got it, out of respect for my seniority. If they really respected me, they would give me the damn job! I more than deserve it! Well, enough is enough, I keep getting passed over for promotions, but no more. I just have to make sure that you, my competition, is no longer there to take it. I just have to change you a bit, modify your life, your identity, that should do the trick, and take you out of the way, nice and clean. But since you have been such a jackass since starting here, thinking you are better than everyone else, I think I should take you down a notch further, teach you a lesson in humility, and to respect those with more experience than you.”

You look baffled. Sure, James has been overconfident in his abilities in the past, as well as entitled and self-righteous, but coming up to you directly to tell you off because you got the promotion you deserved and worked your ass off for instead of him? That was just obnoxious! And all that crap about “Changing you” or something, what the hell was that even about? Did he finally just lose it?

“Come on James, you know as well as I that I deserve that promotion and not you, you are just being a sore loser about it.” His already sour mood worsened at that comment. Usually, you were pretty laid back and avoided confronting him, but this time you had every right to, your bosses had selected you for the job and not him, he was going to have to learn to listen to your authority from now on. He snarled, took a step back and withdrew a small notepad from his pocket and a pen, opened it and started scribbling in it.

“We’ll just see about that. I paid good money for this nifty little notepad, so it better work. How about we give you a bit of a disadvantage in the corporate field. What if you were born African American? And a girl to boot? Let’s see you get that job then!”

You were about to say that he was delusional, that what he was saying didn’t make any sense, when you felt a surge, like a stutter in your reality, in your self. Suddenly your body felt different, very different. Not only did you have the body of a beautiful black girl, you also had the memories of one, alongside your original male memories. Growing up in a black family, as a girl, wearing dresses and playing with dolls, it all rippled up to the present, your new body and new attire. Everything felt wrong and different, yet also familiar and comforting. The weight of your breasts, the way your panties gave you a slight wedgie all the time, how your dress hugged your curves, the arch of your feet in heels. It was all so odd, so disconcerting, but at the same time it felt so strangely right. But peering in your memories, you saw that despite additional challenges and obstacle, you had still performed admirably and ended working at the same place, and still got the promotion that James yearned for. So, despite whatever magic he had used to alter your life, and handicap you he had still failed, and you had proved yourself to be worthier of the new position than he was.

He looked confused and surprised, but not angry. He was in fact quite calm, worryingly so, as he looked at you and then at the notepad.

“Strange… looks like changing your upbringing wasn’t enough to take you out of the way. Somehow you still ended up working the exact same job, and by some miracle you still unfairly got the new position! Probably some bullshit diversity quota, I should have thought about that… oh well, luckily this thing can make more than one change to a person’s life, so I will just have to be even more drastic. How about we make you heterosexual, with a libido so high you flunked out of high school to tend to your other… needs?”

You screamed out at him and tried to lunge for the notepad to knock it out of his hands, but he had already been writing as he spoke, and it was just too late. Another ripple in reality hit you, but this time instead of your body you felt your mind start to change. James was hot for an old guy. Mean and selfish, but you would definitely would still hit that. Your new set of memories adjusted, you had still grown up as a girl, but now when you hit puberty in high school, instead of focusing on your studies you focused on your newfound attraction to boys. As you explored your burgeoning sexuality, you became known as the school bike, the girl so horny she would pretty much sleep with anyone who asked.

You grabbed your head. You still remembered your memories as a boy, and although you knew they were the real ones, and not your girl memories, they felt fuzzy and distant, like a dream, and details were hard to make out. Meanwhile your female memories were vivid and felt all too real, the first time you sucked a cock, the moment you lost your virginity, when you were expelled for sleeping with a teacher, who also got fired. Your first job as a stripper in a seedy club, and now your current job as a sexy Hooters’ girl, where your tits were constantly on display and you could get ogled by hunky men as much as you wanted, a dream job really. You felt reality ripple again as your outfit changed first, from a professional and stylish dress to your new work uniform, then the scenery changed, and you were now holding a platter of wings at work, bringing it to the customer at table 14, an older gentleman scribbling on a notepad.

“Anything else I can get for you sir?” You say with your usual bright smile, noticing him appreciate your ample cleavage as you bent over slightly to give him an even better look.

“That will be all for now. Thanks Latisha and have a nice life.”



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