Gender Swapped By Aliens! Read online

  Jo Ann’s cubicle looked like all the others with papers and ledgers scattered around, memos taped to the walls for later reference, and a single family portrait on the counter. I couldn’t help gasping at that portrait. The husband smiling next to her was me! And the children in front of them were Michael and Tammy! I squinted at Jo Ann and then I saw it: Denise’s face, albeit ten years younger with frizzy blond hair instead of short dark brown hair. The nose, the jaw, and especially the eyes were all hers.

  “Ms. Fong? Is something wrong?”

  “Huh? What?”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “Oh, no. Sorry. I was just admiring your family.”

  “We just took that a couple of weeks ago. It was so hard to get the children to stay still.”

  I nodded slightly. From the look of it, Michael and Tammy weren’t even ten yet, which made sense; if Denise were younger then the children would have to be as well. “They’re very beautiful. How’s your husband?”

  “Bill’s doing fine. Always plenty of crazy people to analyze.” I shared her chuckle, though inside my stomach churned at the thought of someone else impersonating me. Maybe they had simply switched me with the real Lynn Fong.

  “I might have to see him before long,” I said with another chuckle. Then I forced myself to straighten. “I should go get to work. You’ll send me those reports?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I nodded to her and then staggered off in search of my cubicle. I stopped when I heard Mabel’s voice say, “Looking for someone, Ms. Fong?”

  “What? Oh, no. Not really.”

  “You got a message from Mr. Daggett. And Colonial is getting antsy for their money again. I told them you would call them.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I mumbled. I didn’t have a cubicle; I had a whole tiny office for myself. There was a plaque next to the door with my name and title: Accounts Payable Manager—West Coast Operations.

  I took the messages from Mabel and then went into my office to set my things down with a grateful sigh. My office didn’t look much different from the cubicles, except I had my degree from USC hanging up and pictures of two fluffy gray cats on my desk. They had turned me into a bland middle-aged middle manager and my wife into one of my underlings.

  I sighed again as I sat in my leather office chair. It made sense for Denise to be here. They wanted me to see that it was useless to resist; my family had already forgotten about me and the life we had built. I had no reason not to let myself be brainwashed, to sink into this drab life they had planned for me.

  I shook my head. I wouldn’t give in that easily. There had to be a way to remind Denise—Jo Ann—of who she really was and who her husband really was. I would just have to find it.

  ***

  I didn’t know much about accounting—Mabel did the bookkeeping for my office—but I managed to get by until lunchtime. It wasn’t all that hard to process the bills that came to my desk. The real challenge was to decide which ones should be paid first; I largely guessed and hoped I got it right enough not to get into trouble.

  By noon I found myself starting to get annoyed at some of the invoices that were crumpled or smeared as if someone had run them through the washer before sending them in. I could imagine the real Lynn Fong thinking this quite often. I took off my glasses and pinched my nose to relieve a little bit of the stress.

  Jo Ann had sent her emails as promised. I didn’t have any idea what all her charts and graphs meant, so I just sent her a thank you email back. At the end of it I asked if she would maybe like to get lunch with me—my treat. She claimed to have a lot of work to do, which I took as a sign she didn’t want to get too friendly with her boss. I imagined the real Lynn Fong to be hard enough that her subordinates didn’t want to socialize too much with her. Or maybe it was only Jo Ann who didn’t like me.

  I had to fight back tears at that thought. When I had gotten control of myself enough, I decided a different tack would work better. So I emailed her back to say that I wanted to discuss some issues with her at lunch, if she wouldn’t mind. That convinced her to say yes, though it probably made her worry, thinking I might fire her in public.

  As twelve-thirty approached, I found my stomach beginning to flutter. This wasn’t a date, per se, but it would be very close to one, at least from my point of view. I needed to find a way to sway Jo Ann, to make her realize that I was her real husband.

  At five minutes to the half-hour, I grabbed my purse from off of the desk. On my way to the door, I stopped at the mirror. I ran a hand over my graying hair to smooth it down. I smiled into the mirror, that smile quickly fading to see my yellowing teeth and the deep wrinkles etched into my face. Why would a beautiful young woman like Jo Ann ever want a hag like me?

  I ought to accept that she was gone. I couldn’t win her back. I might as well just let the aliens reprogram my brain. Maybe they could let me forget everything and just focus on being Lynn Fong, a childless spinster who gave all her love to her cats.

  No, that was what they wanted. They wanted me to throw in the towel, to surrender my will. I had to keep trying, to find a way back to them.

  With a more confident bounce in my steps, I went out to Mabel’s desk. “I’ll be at lunch for an hour or so. Don’t forward any calls to me unless it’s really important.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  It took a little doing to find my way back to Jo Ann’s desk. She waited for me with her purse on her lap. “Ready?” I asked her.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As we waited for the elevator, I reassured her, “There’s no need to be scared. This isn’t that kind of meeting.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Call me Lynn. Please.”

  “OK…Lynn.”

  I risked putting a hand on her arm. She noticeably twitched at my touch. “You’re doing a good job, Jo Ann. Those reports were really super.”

  “Thanks, ma’am…Lynn.”

  The elevator came to sweep us down to the lobby. As we neared the bottom, I asked, “Do you have a car? I took the bus.”

  “Oh, sure, no problem.”

  Her car was a rusty Tercel with a lot of liberal bumper stickers on the back. I remembered her driving such a car when she was in college; this was probably the same one. As young as she was now, she must not be able to afford a new car. Jo Ann visibly blushed as she unlocked the door for me.

  She cleared off a few misplaced dolls and action figures to toss into the backseat, where two booster seats were strapped in. “I’m sorry about the mess.”

  “It’s all right. You’re a busy lady.”

  My back flared with pain as I squeezed down onto the seat. It made me wish that alien hadn’t added ten years to my age. That also might make Jo Ann less afraid of me.

  “Where do you want to go?” Jo Ann asked.

  “The Talladega Diner,” I said. That was where we had often gone when we had been dating. Maybe that would help to jar something in her memory.

  She didn’t say much to me along the way. Just some small talk about people at the company and celebrity gossip. I kept up as best I could while waiting for an opening to steer things onto familiar shores, but nothing came up before we reached the diner.

  It was a hole-in-the-wall place, fashioned from an old boxcar that had been plunked down next to the old train station, which had closed down about fifteen years ago. There were still quite a few cars at the diner, though not enough that we couldn’t get a table. I muted my grunt of pain as I got out of the car and then hobbled towards the front door.

  I recognized Cindy, the waitress who had often served us when we went here. It was strange to think we were the same age now—or I might even be older than her. Cindy showed no sign of recognition as she led us to an empty booth.

  “What can I get you ladies?” she asked.

  “A cup of hot tea with lemon, a tuna sandwich on wheat, and a cup of chicken noodle soup,” I said.

  “Diet Coke, no ice, and a small garden salad with
no dressing,” Jo Ann said. We handed our unused menus to Cindy and then settled in. “My husband used to order that exact same thing.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Tea with lemon, tuna on wheat, and chicken noodle soup. That’s what my husband always ordered when we came here.”

  “I suppose great minds think alike,” I said with a grin.

  “I suppose so.”

  “How is your husband?”

  “He’s fine. Keeping busy.”

  “That’s good.” I leaned forward to ask, “Have you noticed anything strange lately?”

  “In what sense?”

  “In a general sense.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Before I could try to come up with an answer, Cindy returned with our beverages. I took a sip of my tea and then smacked my lips. I missed this place. Jo Ann took a pull on her straw, seeming to relish the silence. I could tell she was unsettled by my line of questioning. Yet I plunged ahead anyway, not seeing any other way.

  “Nothing seems different in the last day or so?”

  “Not really. Except this. No offense.”

  “I understand. You’re a little intimidated by having lunch with the boss.”

  “It’s sort of…unusual.”

  “You’re very special to me, Jo Ann…as an employee.” I was quick to add the last part. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “There are plenty of other people in the department—”

  “Don’t be so modest. You’re essential to me…and the company.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Please don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old.”

  “I’m sorry…Lynn.”

  “I want you to feel comfortable around me. We’re going to be working together very closely in the coming days. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want you to be my right-hand man…woman. My most trusted aide. Do you understand?”

  “This is very unusual.”

  “These are unusual times,” I said with a grin. “Are you in?”

  “Um—”

  Everything around me shimmered then. My vision blurred for a moment. When it cleared, I found the other side of the booth empty. That wasn’t the only change. My business suit had been replaced by a ratty pink cardigan and floral print housedress. My hands had wrinkled up as if I had spent hours in a pool, liver spots dotting the backs of my hands.

  I heard Jo Ann’s voice, though it sounded as if it were coming from the bottom of a well. “Here you are, Mrs. Fong,” she said. Then she set a bowl of cottage cheese in front of me.

  “This…this isn’t…what I…ordered,” I croaked. By the end of that sentence I felt as if I had run a marathon. It was then I noticed the translucent tubes running down to an oxygen tank on a little cart.

  “It’s what you always order, Mrs. Fong,” Jo Ann said.

  I managed to crane my neck enough to see Jo Ann was wearing a pink waitress uniform, her blond hair piled up into a bouffant. Her breasts were swollen and her stomach more so. It wasn’t that she had gotten fat—she was pregnant. From the plump smoothness of her face, she was a teenager again, eighteen or nineteen at most. Was it Michael or Tammy in her stomach?

  “I’m…sorry…deary,” I mumbled. “Would you…mind…helping me…up?”

  “No problem, Mrs. Fong.” She took my arm to gently slide me to the end of the booth. My back screamed with pain far worse than before as she helped me to my feet. She let me lean against her until she could unfold my walker for me.

  “Thank you…so much…deary.”

  It was extremely awkward to toddle along with the walker, the oxygen tank trailing behind me. I clomped forward one step, took a breath of oxygen, and then took another step. I repeated that all the way to the bathroom door. The door might as well have been made from granite; there was no way I could open it in my current feeble state.

  “I got it, Mrs. Fong,” Jo Ann said. She nudged the door open, letting me get the walker inside enough to keep it propped open so I could shuffle through. I barely had the strength to nod my thanks to her. Then the door swung shut.

  I gasped to see myself in the mirror. My face looked as if it had melted, my skin sagging and wrinkled. My glasses had gotten bigger and much thicker. A crown of wispy white curls adorned my head. I was probably eighty years old—if not ninety.

  “Are you starting to understand now, Mrs. Fong?” a familiar voice asked.

  I couldn’t turn around to face her, but I could see the alien woman in the mirror. “You…did…this.”

  “Of course. You obviously needed to learn a lesson. It’s useless to keep resisting. At any point it would be easy enough for us to completely destroy you. It’s your choice to make. You can go back to work as Ms. Fong or you can wait for a bus to take you to the retirement home.”

  I stared at my geriatric reflection. As much as I hated to admit it, I knew she was right. They could apparently alter reality on a whim, turning me—and my family—into anything they wanted. There was nothing I could do about it, not like this. At least as a middle-aged woman I had some small amount of freedom.

  “Work,” I wheezed.

  “That’s very good, Mrs. Fong.” She tousled my white hair as if I were a child. “Though for obvious reasons we can’t put you close to your wife again. You’re apparently unable to resist the temptation.”

  “I…understand.”

  The walker vanished, dumping me to the floor. I wheezed with pain as I heard several bones snap. I lay gasping on the floor, the oxygen tank gone too. Everything was starting to fade to black. The alien woman glared down at me with her silver eyes. “Lie,” I managed to get out.

  “Oh, no, I didn’t lie. I just want you to fully realize how easy it would be for your feeble life to be snuffed out.”

  With that, I passed out.

  ***

  I woke up to the sound of phones ringing. My eyes were still trying to open when a man shouted, “Goddamn it, Lynette, are you just going to let those fucking phones ring?”

  I finally managed to open my eyes. I couldn’t stifle a gasp to see a pair of breasts, each one bigger than my head. Most of the dark tan flesh of these breasts was exposed, with just enough stuffed into a pink blouse to not be completely indecent. I was sitting at a desk, the phone in front of me continuing to ring.

  I reached out with a slender brown hand tipped with bright pink nails that had to be at least three inches long. “Um…hello?” I squeaked. My voice had gotten even higher, like I had taken a shot of helium.

  “Is this Mr. Teeko’s office?” a man growled.

  “Um…yes?”

  “Is he in?”

  “Um…let me check.” I had no idea how to work the phone, so I stabbed a button at random. That at least stopped the phone from ringing—for about two seconds. I sighed and then picked up the phone again. “Mr. Teeko’s office?”

  “Is that how you answer the phone? It’s not very professional,” the alien woman’s voice hissed.

  I lowered my voice to whisper, “What did you do to me?”

  “We separated you from your former wife. You might consider it a promotion of sorts. You’re working in the executive suite now.” She started to laugh. I slammed the phone down.

  “Who was that?” a man asked from behind me. I spun around to see a very handsome man, like the young man who had paid my bus fare, albeit a few years older. He was also wearing a much more expensive suit.

  “It was…a man,” I stammered.

  “What man?”

  “Um…I’m not sure. He didn’t give his name.”

  “Goddamn it, Lynette. If you weren’t the hottest secretary in this whole fucking company I’d fire your fat ass.”

  “I’m…I’m sorry. Please don’t fire me.”

  “I’ll consider it. Why don’t you come into my office to take a memo?”

  “Y-yes, s-sir.”

  I got unstea
dily to my feet. My legs had gotten much longer while my feet were about the same size, only now stuffed into spike heels at least six inches tall. I wobbled out from behind what must be my new desk, into Mr. Teeko’s office.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped. “You been drinking?”

  “No, sir. New shoes,” I squeaked.

  “Those are nice come-fuck-me shoes,” he said with a leer.

  “Sir?”

  “Don’t give me that ‘sir’ shit. Close the fucking door.”

  I really didn’t want to close the door. I had a good idea what was going to happen once I did. Yet there wasn’t much choice. I could hardly walk, let alone run away. I awkwardly pushed the door shut and then stood demurely next to it.

  The aliens had turned me into a bimbo secretary. That much was obvious from the size of my breasts, the tight blouse, gray plaid skirt that barely covered my privates, and those “come-fuck-me” heels. Mr. Teeko obviously didn’t keep me around to answer his phones or draft memos for him.

  He leaned back in his chair, swinging his legs up to rest his feet on the desk. He crooked a finger towards me. “Come on, sweetcheeks. Get that hot ass over here.”

  “Y-yes, M-Mr. T-Teeko.”

  “You call me Daddy when we’re in private, sweetcheeks.”

  “OK…Daddy.”

  I toddled towards his desk, feeling almost as feeble as when I was an old woman. Clinically, it made perfect sense for why they had done this to me. They wanted to destroy what remained of my masculinity and what better way than to have me get fucked as a woman?

  “What are you so nervous about, baby? It’s not like you haven’t done this before.”

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

  “You getting shy now? Or maybe you found religion.”

  When I got close enough, he grabbed me by the wrist to pull me down into his lap. A lot of platinum hair fell into my face, nearly blinding me. I could feel Mr. Teeko squeeze one ample cheek of my rear hard enough to make me squeak with pain. He followed it with a slap to the rear that hurt—in a good way.

  He yanked me back by the hair to kiss me roughly on the mouth. His tongue found its way into my mouth, groping around to almost my tonsils. As he kissed me, a hand tore down my blouse to let my bare breasts spring forth. My nipples turned hard at his touch. A surge of pleasure ran through me, something I had never experienced before.