I suppose this is all my own doing really. I had been working as Mr. Owen’s assistant for 6 months now. I loved the job he was a nice guy. Very generous to his staff and if the company was doing well we all got bonuses. Yes, Owen tech was going places. My dream of buying a narrow boat and living free on the canals of Britain could be realized before I was too old to enjoy it.

I had only been with the company a month when we had a fancy dress Christmas office party. I was persuaded by a couple of the temps to go as a milkmaid. There were seven women in the office and they were one short for “Eight maids a-milking”. When I got to Shirley’s house and saw the outfit I nearly backed out. It was a milk maid’s outfit from a porn fetish version of the song. The skirt barely covered my backside.

They insisted I wore the black stockings and frilly blue and white knickers that went with the outfit. I protested a little, but being a closet crossdresser I was secretly loving it. I had to tuck myself back between my legs and pull my knickers up tight to avoid tenting my puffy, petticoated skirt.

In my borrowed heels I tottered out to the minibus with the rest of the girls. Women are such a bunch of perverts when they get together without men. They forgot I was a man and carried on like I was one of the girls. I think most of them were half cut before we reached the party.

When we reached the party at Mr. Owen’s house I met his wife for the first time. She was pretty and had a narrow face with a slightly crooked nose, a little like mine. Instead of spoiling her, it made her look cute and quirky. She seemed a little angry at having us at her house. Even I, a fake woman could detect that.

An hour or so into the party the booze was flowing. I had been called queer by the office asshole, been felt up by a couple of the guys, even though they knew who I was. I was kind of enjoying myself. It was great being able to crossdress with “permission”. I was a good sport. I was allowing the women to be “Eight maids a-milking”.

An almost legless Shirley suggested we all grab guys and milk them. I pretended to be horrified, but I was honestly so turned on by the drink, the sexy feel of the knickers against my cock I considered it. I did not think I was gay. I had only ever had sex with one girlfriend. I just never really thought about sex much. I did have a drunken coupling with a guy at uni. I enjoyed the sex, but it just did not seem right. Perhaps I was fooling myself.

It never happened anyway. Two of the other maids dragged her off to the kitchen to sober up. Mr. Owen announced we were all getting a £5000 Christmas bonus. He told us that the Yasimo Electronics Company deal was almost signed. We would have a bumper year next year. I couldn’t believe it. That amount of money put me a little nearer my £100k target for my dream narrow boat.

Shortly after I noticed Mr. Owen argue with his wife in the garden. She slapped him and called him a “fucking idiot”, and ran upstairs. I hoped they would both be alright. It was Christmas after all. I never liked Susan, his wife. She was meant to finalise the Yasimo contract, but she got me to do everything. I had to use her email account to communicate with Mr. Yasimo. Although it did give me a little thrill pretending to be a woman talking to Mr. Yasimo.

He hit the whiskey hard after that. That’s when it happened. I was bending over to pick up a bottle some had knocked to the floor, I’m a clean freak, I hate to see a mess. I was fully bent and my dress must have ridden up exposing my lacy knickers. I felt two hands caress my buttocks through the silky material.

My first reaction was to jump and shout. I didn’t. It felt so bloody good. The hands were softly massaging me.

“You love that don’t you sexy girl?”

It was Mr. Owen! My boss was grouping me! What would he do when he found out it was me?

“I always knew your sexy arse would look good in knickers Peter.”

He gave me one final squeeze, then I stood up. My face was as red as a beetroot. He knew he was grouping me, not one of the women.

“My wife is a bitch Peter. She hates me giving bonuses. She thinks I’m an idiot. Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“No Mr. Owen. I think you are a generous boss. A great boss who is loved by his staff.”

“Call me Ken. The way I see it my staff makes me money, and I share it with them. I know you did all the work on the Yasimo contract, so I’m giving you an extra £2k. She tried to tell me she did it. She wants me to stop all the bonuses. Well, that bitch can go suck on a lemon.

“Thanks, Ken. I really appreciate it. It will go straight in my narrow boat. fund. Happy Christmas.”

“It’s good to have a dream, Peter. Stick with it. I had a dream once. I was in love with a guy when I was at Oxford. We made plans to start our own computer firm. Both our parents threatened to send us to a “straight” camp. In the end we both married fucking horrible bitches. He killed himself last week.”

The whisky had dropped all his inhibitions. He should not be telling me all this. He was really upset. I couldn’t help myself. I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a cuddle.

“It’s alright Ken. You’ll be OK.”

Just then Susan walked in.

“That figures. I knew you’d find another fag. Queers like you two don’t appreciate real women.”

Ken pulled away from me and faced her.

“If you weren’t spitting venom all the time perhaps I would. You can fuck off and leave me alone.”

“Yes, that’s the only good idea you have had in years. Enjoy Christmas alone faggot.”

She stormed off.

“I’m so sorry Mr.. I mean Ken. That was my fault. I..”

“No Peter. That was a long time coming.

Christmas was uneventful for me as usual. I had few friends and no family. I grew up in the foster care system. Some of the families sent the odd card, most didn’t. As an adult I realise many did it for the money. They get between £450 to £1000 a week per child.

My basic one-room apartment was as bleak as usual. I watched TV and browsed the web looking at narrow boats. I had £20k saved now. Another £80k should get me a decent pre-owned boat. Then I would need money for food. I could get solar panels and a wind generator for power. I dreamed of the freedom I would have. There are now about 4,700 miles of waterways in the UK. I wanted to see them all.

I didn’t spend money on unnecessary things. All my money went into saving. I would one day live my life on the gentle rivers of Britain. That was all that mattered to me.

The first day back I walked into Ken’s office, he was a mess. I could see he had been crying.

“Mr Owen, whatever’s the matter?”

“She’s left me for good. She’s left the country.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. But I didn’t think you liked her that much. “

“I didn’t. It’s not that Peter. She has emptied out the company bank account. She set up a sister company in India and transferred the money to that. She has done the same to our joint account too. The company is broke.”

“But the Yasimo contract is worth nearly £30 million Ken. Surely we still have that?”

I couldn’t believe it was all over. We would all be out of work.

“That’s the problem. I have enough money in my pension fund to keep the company going for about six weeks. Mr. Yasimo wants to come over and discuss the contract details with Sue.”

“Well, I can do that. It was me that wrote it anyway.”

“There lays the problem. First, he thought he was dealing with Sue. He will take that as deception when he finds out it was you. Secondly, he is a family man. Family is very important to him. If he finds my wife ran off with all the company funds, he is likely to back out. Wouldn’t you.”

There was no way around this. We needed Susan here to keep the deal alive. There had to be a way out of this for the sake of everyone at the company.

Ken looked up at me. His red-rimmed eyes were wide, staring at me. He was having a eureka moment.

“Unless we had a woman that knew the details of the contract intimately. He has never seen Susan’s face he doesn’t know what she looks like.”

“Ken, I’m the only one that knows the contract. None of the women here have had anything to do with it.”

“Yes, exactly, and you look good in a dress. I want to you stand in for Susan. I want you to be my substitute wife while Mr. Yasimo is here.”

I thought about it for a few seconds. I thrill ran through me. To act and dress as a woman for a few days, full time. Could I?

“I’d make it worthwhile. If we keep the contract, I’ll give you £50k. Decide quickly. He will be here tomorrow.”

I would be more than halfway to my dream. In a few years, I could be moored up next to open fields, hearing nothing but cows and birds.

“I don’t have any clothes. How can I get all the stuff I’ll need?”

“When Susan left she packed a small suitcase. That’s why I never suspected she was skipping the country. Most of her clothes and makeup are still at my home.

God dammit. The money was too good to turn down. I would be keeping everyone else in a job too. Part of me accepted that explanation. Secretly I knew the money and idea of posing as a wife was turning me on.

“OK Ken. I’ll do it. What do we do now?