You'll Fit Right In: A Gradual Feminization Story (Chapter One)
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*FYI, this is Chapter 1 of 3 that'll be shared here on BC!*
CHAPTER ONE: AN OFFICE SURPRISE
Office jobs are tough. It’s strange how just sitting at a desk all day, answering emails and talking to coworkers can be so mentally draining. Shocking! Who could have guessed?
My name is Charlie and I’m a 24-year old Junior Marketing Associate at a company called ‘Attention Marketing Agency’. I know, I know… Attention? It’s pretty on the nose. It feels like whoever named the company played a simple game of word association with the word ‘marketing’ and picked the first thing that came to mind.
Basically, my job is to create grids, pitch decks, and other materials that we’ll use to present our strategies to 7-figure clients looking to grow their businesses. You’d think it’s constantly stimulating, like, ‘Wow! You get to be creative and make money in the process?’. Not really. I’m the lowest rung on the ladder. And what happens to the lowest rung on a ladder? It’s always the first to get stepped on.
One of the few saving graces of this job is my coworker, Brendan. Since moving to Chicago after college, he’s been one of my few, consistent friends. We both started on the same day, nearly a year and a half ago, we share the same title, and we enjoy commiserating over the frustrating elements of our jobs. I generally consider myself an introvert, but even introverts need someone to vent to in order to stay sane.
Most days blend together around here, Arriving at 9:00, leaving around 5:30 or 6:00, having rinsed and repeated the same tasks. But today was different. Over the last few weeks, we’ve heard whispers about our direct supervisor, Noelle, stepping down. Nobody, at least at my level, knew any specifics. But on this Monday morning, my entire department of around 30 people received an email from my boss’s boss to ‘address a change in the company’ that’d take place this afternoon.
“My money’s on that she got fired,” Brendan said, leaning back in his chair and stretching his neck around the divider between our desks.
“We don’t even know if she’s leaving,” I told Brendan, but mostly trying to reassure myself.
If Noelle were to leave, Attention would almost certainly be promoting from within. And as someone who’s sick of being on the lowest rung, I’d obviously love to get that gig. However, Brendan is one of the most competitive people in the world and he’d undoubtedly be gunning for the same position. That was the last thing I wanted. If I got the role, he’d resent me forever and I’d lose my closest work friend. And if he got the role, he’d be my new boss and inevitably ruin our wonderful work dynamic and the only thing keeping me sane on a day-to-day basis.
But honestly, why wouldn’t they hire him? Not only is he great at his job, but Brendan’s a tall, charismatic, handsome guy. Let’s face it — those kinds of people are always the ones who get the big, glamorous promotion. They shine too brightly to be constantly held in the basement.
As for me? Take one look at me and you’ll immediately realize why I’ve got a brutal, uphill climb to the top. I’m 5 foot 2. Yeah, I know. The curse of having short parents I guess. Sometimes people try to make me feel better by calling me a ‘short king’, which I appreciate, but it’s typically uttered by girls while literally looking down at me. And it almost always comes across in this cutesy, patronizing way, even if they don’t mean it.
So years ago, I made the choice to distract from my height by growing out my light brunette hair to extraordinary length. Since the end of high school, I’ve kept that exact same hairstyle – no ponytails, no braids… just flat, simple and boring. Still, something about long hair gives me confidence and originality that I otherwise wouldn’t have. Maybe others don’t see it that way, but I certainly do.
The rest of my morning was spent focusing on dull grid-building and deliberately trying to get the thought of losing Brendan to a promotion out of my head. But I could only put off that thought for so long. It was time to trek to the conference room for the dreaded company announcement.
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You’d think a successful company like Attention would shell out for a conference room with more than six chairs, but you’d be wrong. The 30-ish employees gradually made their way into the room and packed like sardines around the table, waiting for the Director of Brand Management Marketing — a man named Oliver — to take his seat at the head of the table.
“Do you think they’ll announce her replacement today too?” Brendan theorized, all jittery with excitement. After even over a year, I still haven’t got used to how his 6’0” frame towered over me by nearly a foot.
I looked straight up, shooting him an annoyed glare. “Dude, she hasn’t confirmed anything. You’re getting way too ahead of yourself.”
He shrugged, accepting he’d learn soon enough. After a few minutes of being smooshed, Oliver finally squirmed his way through the crowd.
“Sorry, sorry…” he muttered awkwardly. “Was on a call…” Oliver was a competent leader, but by no means a competent speaker. You’d think being a department head for a major marketing agency would require those skills, but apparently not.
“So, uh, thanks for packing in here,” Oliver spoke in his strong Chicago accent. That’s one thing I learned about this city — guys in their 60s always seem to have that same harsh vowel enunciation. But nobody younger seemed to carry on that accent ‘tradition’.
“A lotta you have been jawing about some news,” he continued, absorbing his employees’ anxious faces around the room. Noelle, our frumpy but diligent supervisor in her early 40s, stood mere feet from him, like he was about to make an announcement about her.
Oliver triumphantly placed his hands on his hips like a mayor admiring his city. “I’m happy to announce this’ll benefit all you guys... We’re officially implementing a wellness stipend for every single Attention employee!”
The room was split in reaction. Half of the people cheered, the other half clearly had no idea what a ‘wellness stipend’ was. I was in the latter half.
“Alright, alright, settle... Look, for those who aren’t familiar, it’s a three grand bonus we’re giving each of you to focus on self-improvement.”
Now the entire room knew what he meant. I’ve heard of these! It’s a trend that companies are jumping on where employees basically get a monetary bonus to better themselves. Employees get free money, and companies get happier employees. It’s a win-win.
The chatter was loud and ecstatic. It took a minute for Oliver to get everyone quiet again.
“We wanna get this as soon as possible, so in the next few days, please submit your preferred company to HR, and we’ll purchase gift cards or credit to your preferred business,” Oliver explained. After fielding a few questions on specifics, he dismissed the group.
This was incredible! Not only was I getting an unexpected three thousand dollars, but I also evaded an awkward resignation announcement from Noelle – for now, at least.
Amazing how the announcement of a (some-strings-attached) gift can really uplift the mood of everyone in an office. Everyone, of course, except Brendan.
I looked at Brendan sulking in his seat, dismally editing an excel document. I groaned. “Really? You can’t be happy about three grand?”
Brendan sighed. “No, I can. It’s just…”
“Yeah, I know, the promotion. Look, if you wanna know so bad, just ask Noelle,” I said to him, knowing full well he wouldn’t. “Just be happy everyone got something positive. Think of all the ways you can improve yourself now!”
He smiled, jokingly smug. “How can you get more perfect than me?”
We shared a laugh, then broke into discussion on all the things we could spend this money on.
As much fun as it was dreaming and mulling over the options with Brendan and a few other coworkers for the rest of Monday, there was still the pressure to submit my final selections to HR by the end of tomorrow — I guess in the pursuit of making these purchases by the end of April for some dumb accounting reason.
I was having trouble making a final call, so I listened to my colleagues’ choices and planned to copy what sounded best. One of them immediately thought of doing cooking classes for himself and his girlfriend. Sure that’d be fun — and I could certainly use the help — but was cooking really going to destress me?
Another one was an avid golfer and has complained for months about his shitty golf clubs. Therefore, new clubs would be the bulk of that purchase. But I didn’t play any sports.
As I quickly learned, the majority of people had intentions of signing up for gym memberships. I’ll be honest, that idea sounded terrifying to me. I’d always felt so uncomfortable in gyms. Not only was I way shorter than most guys present, but I was weak and rail-thin — a horrible combination. The few times in college that I even stepped into a gym, I felt too nervous to lift weights and settled for the elliptical. Look, I know the gym is supposed to be about improvement but with my body, it’d be a lost cause.
“You know, we could always sign up for one together,” Brendan suggested. “It’d be a fun way to hang out outside of work, and I could teach you how to work out. I’ll have a gym buddy, you’ll get ripped… It'll be great!”
I told him I’d sleep on it, which was mostly a way of avoiding the conversation. But as I made my way home from work that evening and sat alone in my apartment, I wondered something: Maybe I really could use a change.
I’m always so upset with my appearance but I never do anything about it. Here it is, a gift from the heavens (well, really HR), falling onto my lap — an avenue to self-improvement, and hey, maybe a career boost too.
The $3,000 was use it or lose it, so I texted Brendan and told him I was in. He was ecstatic.
‘DUDE! YES! I can’t fucking wait.’ he texted me.
‘Haha I’m glad. Do you have a gym in mind?’
‘It’s a little pricey, yeah, but let’s do this place called ‘Iron Arena’. It’s equidistant from our apartments and it’s on the way home from work. We’ll go like twice a week and get in shape in no time.’
‘Lol sounds like a plan. Who am I to debate the gym expert?’ I replied.
He thumbs-upped my message as I leaned back in my bed, basking in the certainty of a solid plan. It felt cathartic knowing I was finally doing something about my future. Brendan and Charlie: brand new workout buddies.
========
The first thing I did Tuesday morning was go to the floor where HR’s offices were. Unsurprisingly, the line was all the way down the hall with people submitting their requests. It was April 30th, and it was obvious they were scrambling to get these requests in. Classic Attention, waiting til the last second for everything.
After around 20 minutes in line, I spoke to a woman named Celine who’d done my start paperwork many months back. Celine was a portly, sweaty blonde lady — though I’m sure the sweat was mostly due to the daunting line of anxious employees.
“Got your selection?” she asked, quite rudely.
“Yeah, I’m signing up for Iron Arena. The gym.”
She typed it into the computer. “The one on Halsted?”
“Yep,” I replied.
“All three grand for this?”
“Yes ma’am.”
She expeditiously typed for a few more moments, barely even looking up at me. “Last name?”
“Lansing,” I said bluntly. She clearly didn’t remember me, but iit didn’t matter as she was already calling the next person in line. “Next!”
“I, uh… thanks,” I managed to mumble out before the next employee scooted in front of me to be rudely helped by Celine. But who cares. Even just signing up for this gym I already felt stronger and healthier.
========
We were told that the payments — all in the form of gift cards or company credit — wouldn’t be in our hands til Friday, but that didn’t stop Brendan from diving right into our plans for the coming week.
“Yo, Charlie, come here,” he said, disrupting me from my workflow. Frankly, I welcomed the distraction.
I wheeled my chair over to his desk. “What is that?” I said in shock.
He had a muscular and vascular chart of the human body pulled up, fullscreen on his computer. But it looked way more realistic than it needed to be.
“Don’t be so squeamish. I wanna walk you through the muscles we’re gonna be working on this weekend.” Brendan spent the next several minutes name-dropping the names of muscle groups and other anatomical terms I’d never heard in my life — and I consider myself a pretty smart guy.
It felt nice seeing Brendan channel his energy into something other than his job — particularly something that involved me. Even if working out hadn’t been my ‘thing’, I liked knowing that it was his thing, and something we could work on together to grow our friendship.
You know it’s funny… I’ve learned in my brief time of adulthood that friends don’t come as easily as they did in high school or college. You wake up, you work, you go home. Sometimes you’re lucky enough to have a group of friends that you inherited from earlier and have stayed in touch with, but if not, the number one hub for meeting people is at the office. So seeing the real time transition from ‘work friends’ to actual friends was a joy.
========
And so I let Brendan do his thing over the next few days. In moments of downtime, we’d discuss our workout plans and continue going over exercises. I’m sure at times it felt like talking to a brick wall, but he thankfully remained patient.
Friday had finally come, and just like on Tuesday, employees from all of Attention’s departments had migrated to the HR floor, anxiously lining up to receive their wellness stipend gift cards or credit statements.
Things moved a lot faster this time around. No submission of information, no signing of any forms… just a clean, simple pickup process.
Colleagues buzzed about, flashing each other their gift cards and ogling the $3000 worth of life improvement they’ve each received.
The same woman from before, Celine, was there when I finally reached the front of the line.
“Big start to May!” I announced.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I get these too, you know…” She was far too stressed to share in anyone’s joy. “Name?”
Jeez, she forgot again? “Charlie Lansing,” I uttered.
Claire snagged the card from a giant, unorganized pile and handed it to me. It was sealed in a neat little envelope with my last name and first initial on it.
I stepped aside, giddily opening up my card to bask in its wonder.
Huh… It wasn’t a gift card or anything. Just a slip of paper. They must’ve just purchased store credit and handed me a receipt.
But as I began reading the card, something still felt off…
“Iron… Athena?” I said aloud to myself. That wasn’t the name. It’s Iron Arena. Maybe Brendan messed up the name. But I swore it was ‘Arena’…
I wanted to speak to Celine, but she was busy assisting the ever-growing line of recipients.
‘Iron Athena: $3000.00 credit,’ the card read. This was so weird. Did Brendan just have it wrong the whole time? Maybe this is a different location with a slightly different name?
Instead of spinning in circles, I whipped out my phone to google the name. Sure enough, ‘Iron Arena on Halsted’ popped right up.
So out of curiosity, I typed in Iron Athena. And no exaggeration, I nearly dropped my phone.
Also on Halsted, but several miles up the road was another gym. I stared at the search results page in complete shock.
Iron Athena: A Gym for Women.
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I'll be posting the first three chapters of this novel here on BC over the next week or two. I sincerely hope you enjoy this one, and I'm endlessly grateful for your support :)
Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/Youll-Fit-Right-Gradual-Feminization-...
You'll Fit Right In: A Gradual Feminization Story (Chapter Three)
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*FYI, this is Chapter 3 of 3 that'll be shared here on BC!*
CHAPTER THREE: A FEW NEW ITEMS
“I’m sorry, did you just put that up or something?” I said, panicking. “That definitely wasn’t here when I came in last time!”
“It most certainly was,” Monica insisted. “It’s not supposed to be a ‘gotcha’. Simply the rules.”
I stood there for a few seconds, refusing to accept this reality. Did she seriously think I was gonna abide by this?
“Monica, I’m not about to work out in freaking drag, okay?”
She shook her head and put on her best consoling voice. “Oh shush, Charlie. No one’s expecting you to wear a prom dress. This is a gym. Our expectations are incredibly fair.”
I was peeved regardless. “Well, this sucks for both of us, because as you can imagine I didn’t pack any women’s clothing.”
“That’s okay!” Monica said with delight. “We have some for sale.”
“For sa—“ I said, cutting myself off. Jeez, she really thought of everything...
“Look, I’m sorry this is catching you off guard. But you’ve got thousands of dollars in your account, so you might as well spend it, right?”
Another woman walked in behind me and just like the last one, greeted Monica and walked down the hall.
“They’re here for the 7 PM CrossFit class,” Monica said. “You’re welcome to join. Pending your outfit, of course.”
Clearly my hands were tied. Through no fault of my own I had literally thousands sunk into this gym, and I’d already spend $150 of that on a month’s membership.
“I’d rather not have a bunch of people watching me prance around in women's clothes,” I stated.
“That’s totally fine. The Equipment Zone is all yours. It’s usually empty around now. But I’m telling you, the classes are fuuu-uuunnn…”
I didn’t care for Monica’s teasing. “If the Equipment Zone is where I can get the most privacy, then that’s where I’ll go,” I replied reluctantly. “Just… just give me the most masculine thing you have.”
Over the next 5 minutes, Monica presented each eligible item of clothing sufficient for entrance. There was a large variety of leggings, shorts, tank tops, and a few skirts. Desperately trying not to stand out, I settled on the one black tank top and some black women’s workout shorts.
“Great! And assuming your shoes are relatively gender-neutral, those will be fine too.”
I took the clothes into the single bathroom and locked the door behind me. Pfft, some ‘locker room’. There wasn’t anywhere to actually lock my things!
Nevertheless, I took off my button-down, slacks, and other work clothes and stripped down to my underwear. I held up the black shorts in the mirror and audibly groaned at how tiny they were. I’m only 5’2” and they still seemed short! I slid them up my legs and secured them over my briefs. I felt ridiculous standing in this bathroom wearing clothing designed for the opposite sex.
The tank top didn’t help me feel much better. The length was fine, but having never worn women’s clothing before, I was surprised that it narrowed at the waist and widened at the hips. I guess that makes sense given the typical woman’s build… but it looked more than a bit silly on me.
It was undoubtedly a girl’s outfit — no question about that — but I suppose it was as close to androgyny as I was gonna get. I put on my shoes, stuffed my work clothes into my gym bag, and bravely exited the bathroom.
“Fits like a glove! You look great, Charlie,” Monica pointed out as I trudged back through the lobby.
I decided to pretend I didn’t hear her. Monica offered to watch my gym bag for the duration of my workout and directed me down the same hallway I’d seen many women disappear.
There were two doors at the end of the hallway: the women’s locker room on the right, and the door to the workout areas on the left. Since I was clearly not welcome in the former, I took a left.
I’d never really been in a gym before but from the little I knew, I was quite impressed. It was a smaller space, but appeared to have everything you’d need. Machines for your legs, arms, and back, a full rack of dumbbells with various weights, and a fleet of treadmills, ellipticals, and stair machines for cardio. At least I wasn’t getting screwed out of quality.
Just as Monica predicted, the Equipment Zone was empty except for me. But every couple of minutes, a new woman would enter the space and take an immediate left through a door labeled ‘Studio A’.
Studio A was home to the upcoming 7 PM CrossFit class — and, presumably, every other class Iron Athena offers.
I took solace in knowing everyone else was here for CrossFit, so I probably wouldn’t be bothered. But there was one huge problem with the setup: The wall between the Equipment Zone and Studio A was a giant glass window.
If I wasn’t self-conscious enough already wearing a women’s outfit, I’d also be watched like an animal in a zoo. Freaking fantastic…
But I had no line of defense. I could only control my own actions. So I put my head down and got to work on the weights.
While the ladies started their class, I was hard at work on the list of exercises Brendan had put together for me. He’d linked a helpful website with short videos of an instructor demonstrating each lift. So the pattern went: watch the video, test it out with a light weight, rewatch the video to correct my form, then complete the lift.
But damn, was weightlifting hard! Brendan gave me a few weight recommendations, but he was far too optimistic with each, since I struggled to complete even half the reps.
I gave it a solid 30 minutes of effort, but fell significantly short of the goals he set for me. Oh well, I guess you gotta start somewhere.
Last on the list was 30 minutes of cardio. I knew there was no way I’d be able to run for 30 minutes like Brendan planned out, but wanted to give it a try. Well overdue for a water break, I briefly retreated to the water fountain near the door to the Equipment Zone.
“Hey!” I heard a voice say as I leaned down for some water.
I lifted my head up, terrified it would be someone who recognized me. But nope, it was just another woman taking a break from the CrossFit class. And holy shit was she beautiful…
“Are you new? Haven’t seen you around before,” the woman said, a little bit out of breath.
She was glistening with sweat from what looked like an intense 30 minutes. But despite the sweat, her long blonde hair looked beyond gorgeous in a high, feminine ponytail. She had a full face of makeup and a similar black outfit to mine.
“I’m… uh… yeah. I just joined.”
Upon speaking, something must have clicked for her. “I… oh. I’m so sorry,” she stuttered. “I didn’t realize any men came here. I totally thought you were a woman for a second.”
Fuck. This was exactly the conversation I wanted to avoid! I started spitting out nonsense, visibly rattled.
“I… Well, Monica said it was okay. And my company—”
But the woman sweetly chuckled. “Hey, hey, it’s alright! I’m ain’t mad about it. Just an observation.” The woman extended her hand. “I’m Jill.”
We shook. “Charlie,” I said. “Really, I don’t mean to invade your space. I promise I’ll stay camped in the Equipment Zone.”
“Pfft,” Jill said, swatting the air. “Nobody gives a crap about that. We just don’t want aggressive, toxic men runnin’ around. You look like you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
I shrugged and blushed. It wasn’t exactly the compliment I wanted from a pretty woman, but I took it. Plus, with Jill’s cute, subtle southern accent, it came across sweetly.
“By the way,” I gestured to my clothing. “I’m only wearing this to follow the dress code. I don’t usually…”
She held up her hand again. “Trust me. You’re fine. Any guy who’s willing to follow our dress code couldn’t possibly be a problem.”
I stepped aside so Jill could take a sip of water.
“Seriously, welcome. Consider joining a class sometime! Monica owns the gym, but I teach all the classes — I’d be happy to introduce you to some of the regular girls.”
“Oh, you… you teach?” I stammered. I was trying so hard to avoid peeping through the glass wall that I hadn’t even noticed she was leading the class.
“Mmhmm!” she said with a smile. “Good money on the side, and I love doing it.”
Jill returned to the studio and took her place back on the elevated surface in front of the class. Wow… what a girl…
Hopping on the treadmill, I felt a lot more at ease than I had over the previous 30 minutes. Jill’s welcoming attitude actually did wonders for my confidence. Not’ 30 straight minutes of running’ confidence, but enough to get by.
The treadmills faced directly toward Studio A through the glass, so I had the displeasure of witnessing the double takes from the ladies as, I presume, Jill casually dropped that it was not a woman in the other room, but in fact a man. Though on the flip side, not a single one ran out of the gym in fear, or laughed their butts off at the fact I was wearing women’s workout gear. It was somewhat curious, but overall… accepting… reception.
Still, I feared any interaction with them, so I hung around on the treadmill until the class was over at 8. Other than a few glances my way — and one friendly wave goodbye from Jill — I was largely ignored by the women. Frankly, I’ll take it for the first day. After all, Jill’s super cute and it felt nice to get attention from a girl for once.
I scooted out the Equipment Zone and down the hallway to minimize any interactions with other female patrons. Monica was at the desk, waiting for me with my bag.
“Sorry we don’t have showers for you… Are you okay to go home all sweaty in your work clothes?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Thanks.” I stopped for a sec and looked at my shorts and tank top. “You don’t want these back, do you?”
“Why would I?” Monica seemed confused. “You bought them, didn’t you?”
“I mean… I guess I did…”
She started to chuckle. “Then I guess you’re the proud owner of some women’s workout clothes!”
I rolled my eyes. Not the way I wanted to view things.
“You know,” she continued. “If you plan on coming back, you won’t want to do laundry each time. Would you like to buy a few more outfits?”
The idea of willingly buying more women’s clothes felt crazy. But Monica had a point. Was I seriously supposed to wash my same outfit each time? That’d be quite tedious.
“Since I got all this credit… Yeah, sure. Get me a few more of the plainest outfits you have. Something black, please. I’m not trying to stand out.”
She made a note on her computer and promised they’d be ready by the next time I came in.
I changed real quick and got back on the train home. Somewhere along the way, my phone dinged with a text from Brendan.
‘Good first workout? Feeling sore yet?’
I laughed to myself, thinking about how brutally I’d be roasted if he knew about the dress code thing.
‘Went great. Thanks for the tips. Keep sending ‘em, and I’ll keep doing ‘em!’
========
Last night's texts didn’t fully satisfy Brendan the next day at work. In fact, he wanted to hear all about the gym space, how I handled his exercises, and most of all if I’d talked to any cute girls.
“It was good. Really. Not much to say. Nice space, nice people. It’s clean… Not sure what else you want me to say?”
Brendan was clearly bored, spinning around in his chair. “So you said there was one particular girl. What’s her name?”
Ugh. Did I really have to go into this?
“Jill. Her name was Jill,” I spat out reluctantly.
“Ooooooh, you gonna bang her?” Brendan teased.
I blushed, definitely trying to avoid this type of conversation. “I don’t know, dude. Maybe she’s not into me.”
He smiled coyly. “Well, you’ve got literally zero competition. So if not her, you got the entire field.”
I hoped this wasn’t a sign of things to come, where I’d constantly be dodging questions about girls. Did I have a crush on Jill? Yeah, a little bit. But the last thing I wanted was to talk about her too much and let an embarrassing detail slip out. It’s humiliating enough attending a girls’ gym, much less having to wear women’s clothing — regardless of how androgynous it may be.
========
All week, I tried my best to avoid deep gym discussions with Brendan. I could tell he was a little disappointed with my lack of engagement, though it was worth it to not spill the beans.
But maybe fate hadn’t had enough of me lately because in the middle of work, I noticed a message arrived in my personal email inbox. I casually clicked to the new tab, and noticed it was from Iron Athena.
Immediately, I got a little nervous. Even if it’s just some dumb promotional email, I didn’t want any chance the whole office could see me browsing the website of a women’s gym.
But my curiosity outweighed my judgment. I opened the email. It wasn’t promotional. It was from Monica. It read:
‘Hey Charlie. I took the liberty of selecting some new clothing items for you to wear for future workouts. We had no more black sets of the shorts or tank tops, so I went ahead and made an order. Super high quality stuff. Two black, one pink — just because I think you’ll look good in it! Pick it up next time you’re in. - Best, Monica’
Right off the bat I was pissed. Seriously? I asked for black, and she got me pink? It’s like she’s wasting my money! But as it turned out, the color was the least of my worries.
Monica pasted a link at the base of the email. A link from the clothing supplier. And upon viewing the webpage, I nearly unplugged my desktop out of sheer terror.
The items she’d bought me? Three undeniably feminine, double-strapped, backless activity dresses.
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You'll Fit Right In: A Gradual Feminization Story (Chapter Two)
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*FYI, this is Chapter 2 of 3 that'll be shared here on BC!*
CHAPTER TWO: A HUGE MISTAKE
No. Freaking. Way. Did my company really just sign me up for a women’s gym?
I had a million questions and a billion concerns. So forget the giant line of people waiting — I cut right in front to confront Celine.
“Uh, excuse me?” I said more than a little assertively, holding up the card in question in front of her face.
Celine paused. She examined the card. Then looked at me. Then back at the card. Then back at me again. It took longer than I’d like, but she realized that despite my short stature and long brunette hair, it was indeed a man in front of her holding a $3000 credit for a women’s gym.
“Oh...” she looked at me, awkwardly.
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“Isn’t this fucking ridiculous?” I shouted. It was almost the end of the work day, and I’d been venting to Brendan for several hours now. I didn’t care if either of us were distracted from work. I was pissed off.
I had explained to him that after confronting Celine, she played dumb and claimed she didn’t remember our brief interaction, jotting down the information of exactly which gym I wanted to sign up for. Of course, she then deferred to her department head, but she failed to admit any guilt.
Celine’s boss, a woman named Vicky, brought me into her office both to calm me down and deliver the news that because the purchase had already been made and I signed the forms indicating this was where I wanted the money to be spent, that there was nothing the company could do. There would be no additional $3,000 credit to spend at Iron Arena or anywhere else.
The only option I had was to beg the management at Iron Athena for a refund — a task which HR had quite bluntly assigned to me.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Brendan assured me for probably the 50th time. “Just go to that girly gym and say it was a mistake. Once they realize you’re a dude they’ll obviously give you your money back.”
There was no choice but to believe Brendan’s plan would work. Small businesses are generally pretty lax on this stuff, right?
I slouched back in my chair, beyond frustrated by the whole situation. A stressful, annoying chore like this was not how I wanted to start my weekend.
========
At the conclusion of the work day, while everyone else was going out to bars, seeing friends or family, or relaxing at home, I was trekking over to a gym I did not sign up for to beg for a $3,000 refund.
While both Iron Arena and Iron Athena were on Halsted Street, Athena was several miles uptown. I was seething with frustration the entire train ride north. And yes, the irony of a wellness stipend causing this much stress was the worst part.
After what felt like hours, my phone navigation finally led me to the sleek but subtle exterior of Iron Athena. Gleaming, pink metallic letters spelling out “Iron Athena: A Gym for Women” protruded from the building, which was sandwiched in between a currently closed antique store and an empty property with a commercial lease sign.
Stepping inside, the lobby looked normal enough. Normal decor, normal everything. A lone woman in her 50s sat at the front desk, busy on her computer.
“Hi…” I said, cautiously approaching her. She looked so zoned in that I didn’t want to spook her.
“Onnnnne second…” she uttered, focused intently on typing something until finally looking up. “Hello! So sorry,” she replied.
“What can I do for you?”
“This is gonna sound weird, but I work at this company called Attention Marketing Agency, and they just started up a ‘wellness stipend’ thing. It’s basically–”
The woman cut me off. “I know what that is. We get a lot of signups from those.”
I nodded, continuing. “Well, my company accidentally signed me up here for it. They made a $3,000 credit purchase…”
Her eyes finally lit up with familiarity. “Oh, that was you?”
“Yes! And as you can see, I’m a guy, this is a women’s gym… I’d like a refund please.”
But the woman kept giggling… and giggling… and giggling…
“I gotta say,” she managed to muster between laughs, “I haven’t been in the business world very long, but that is hilarious. I’m so sorry this happened.”
“Yeah, I know. It sucks. So you’ll issue the refund?”
But the woman’s smile disappeared. “Oh… I’m terribly sorry, but we don’t offer refunds. It’s the policy we set up when Iron Athena was founded.”
I audibly groaned. Probably louder and ruder than I should have. But I managed to compose myself. “Look… I’m sure you have some policy written down that says that, but can’t you make an exception? None of this was my fault.”
She shrugged back. “We’re a business. We need to make money. I’m really sorry.”
I couldn’t believe what was happening! Was I seriously about to be out $3,000 just because of a clerical error that wasn’t even my fault? I wanted so badly to scream, but I knew it wouldn’t solve anything.
“Fine…” I replied through gritted teeth. “Thank you for your time…”
I turned around for the door, but the woman had more to say.
“I truly do feel bad for you,” she added. “Maybe we can work something out?”
I turned around. “Like what? Maybe half my money back? 75% maybe?”
“How about 100% access to the gym,” she said.
Huh? What was she talking about?
But the lady was serious. “Just purchase a membership.” She pulled up something on her computer. “Charlie Lansing, right? It’s showing you have $3,000 worth of credit in your account, so you might as well use it.”
I was totally thrown off. “But… this is a women’s gym.”
“Well, Illinois does have a law permitting single-sex gyms, but I never technically registered ours as one. There’s a mountain of fees and it’s a whole annoying process, yada yada yada…”
“But it literally says on your building ‘A Gym for Women.’ What are you talking about?”
“Yeah, it’s called ‘branding’. Plus it keeps out all the douchey gym bros that everyone hates. You don’t strike me as one of those.”
She might have meant that as an insult — referring to my shrimpy frame and long brunette hair — but I tried to take it as a compliment. Regardless, what she was offering was… bizarre. Frankly, this whole situation was.
“I… I’m sorry. No offense, but this is… insane,” I declared.
She chuckled. “Hey, I’ve never had a situation like this either. But the membership’s here if you want it. Think it over!”
I acknowledged her offer but had very little intent to think any further.
“I’m Monica, by the way,” she added.
“I’m, uh, Charlie. But you know that.”
Monica smiled. “Nice meeting you, Charlie.”
I backed out the door, significantly more confused than when I arrived.
========
I was fully expecting to be roasted by Brendan by the time I got to work. After all, why wouldn’t I be? Monica straight up looked at me and, full-well knowing I was a man, offered me a membership at a women’s gym.
And that’s exactly how I explained it to Brendan. It was embarrassing, sure, but I felt like he needed to know.
“Really…” Brendan leaned back in his seat, respecting my attempts to keep this matter somewhat private. “So what’d you do after that?”
“I left! What else was I supposed to do?”
“Fuck… I’m so sorry man. I guess it’s the company’s money, so it’s not like you’re losing anything.”
“I mean, I’m still losing opportunity. It’s three fucking grand!” I was struggling to stay quiet.
“Why not just pay the Iron Arena fee? It’s another $250 per month, but…”
“I can’t afford that! That’s the whole point of the stipend!” I dug myself further in my chair.
Brendan looked at me, thinking. I could tell he was disappointed. He was losing a potential workout buddy and, I assume, the chance to really grow our friendship.
“Maybe you just do it,” he said bluntly. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
I stared at him. “You can’t be serious. It’s a women’s gym.”
“Maybe that’s a plus? You get to meet chicks. Not like you’re dating anyone right now, right?”
I turned a little bit red. I never told him this, but I’ve… never actually dated anyone before. Sure, a college party or two I’d kissed some girls, but it wasn’t really a priority for me. And not like they were clamoring for me, either…
Brendan stayed firm on his point though. He explained that while girls are often overwhelmed by dudes checking them out at normal gyms — not to mention vastly outnumbered — perhaps a safer environment like this would actually be helpful.
“It’s like playing on Easy Mode,” he explained, twirling his pen in his hand.
Hmm… Easy Mode does sound pretty good…
========
I thought long and hard about the pros and cons of Iron Athena. I liked the idea of an easy intro to girls. I wouldn’t have a wingman or anything to help me out, but there’d ideally be zero competition. How could I lose?
But even beyond the promise of a pickup, the possibility of getting in shape was still enticing. Maybe even joining a different gym, I could still grow closer to Brendan. Just because we’re at separate locations doesn’t mean we can’t share results and encourage each other.
By the time I’d gotten home from work, I’d pretty much made up my mind. I got on the phone and called Iron Athena.
“Hello?” a woman answered. I recognized her voice as Monica.
“Hey, Monica…” I began, but she cut me off.
“Charlie! Good to hear from you,” she replied, to my surprise. “We… we don’t get a lot of guys calling, so I remember your voice.”
“Heh… yeah… So I, uh… I decided to try out a monthly membership. Do you guys do that?”
“We do! Oh, I’m so glad you’re interested.”
“Well, ‘interested’ isn’t exactly right. More like ‘desperate’. I’d still prefer the refund…”
Monica laughed. “Sorry, still off the table. So will we see you tomorrow?”
I remembered Brendan saying he planned to work out on Wednesdays, and tomorrow was a Wednesday. It’d probably be his first day at Iron Arena too.
“You know what? Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Great! Can’t wait to show you around.”
She hung up. As nice as it felt to have closure, it felt just as strange locking everything in – a month’s membership to a women’s gym.
========
Besides informing Brendan of my decision and briefly going over his guidance list of exercises to do, there wasn’t much fitness talk. Honestly, I was a little nervous, so it was nice to keep my mind on work.
Once the work day was over, I hopped on the L Train and rode it all the way up to Wrigleyville, the neighborhood housing my fitness studio for the next month.
Just as before, I walked into the building with the flashy pink sign and noticed Monica hard at work at the front desk. She looked up from her computer with a big smile. I could tell she recognized me — again, likely because I’m the only man she’s interacted with all day.
“Charlie! Welcome! So happy you actually came down,” she shouted out gleefully. “I’ll be honest, I was thinking you’d change your mind after the call.”
“Yeah… look, I appreciate your flexibility, but I promise to stay out of your way.” I held up the gym bag I’d packed. “Just, uh… just show me the locker room, I’ll figure out the equipment myself, and I’ll be in and out.”
Monica’s lips pursed, thinking. She looked at me, then looked at my gym bag. “Hmm… so, two things to mention…”
Monica stepped aside from the laptop, greeting a woman as walked in the door behind me. The woman walked straight down a hallway to the left of the front desk.
“First of all, we don’t exactly have a men’s locker room.”
I rolled my eyes. Of course this was gonna be a whole thing. “The men’s restroom is fine. I’ll make do.”
“Well, it’s a gender-neutral restroom,” Monica noted, then pointed to the one bathroom right off the side of the lobby. “But essentially the same. You can change in there.”
“As long as it’s got a lock on the door, it’ll do,” I thanked her and started walking toward the door. But she halted me.
“Uh, there’s one more thing about our gym… We have a dress code.”
Was she blind? I held up my bag to remind her I brought a change of clothes. “I’m all set, thanks.”
But Monica shook her head. She was pointing to a chart on the wall that I somehow failed to notice.
In big, pink letters — much like the ones on the building — read ‘DRESS CODE’. Pictured underneath were three fitness models. Female models.
Monica looked me straight in the eye, but I already sensed the bad news coming. “Skirt, shorts, or leggings. Plus a tank top or sports bra. No exceptions.”
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I'll be posting the first three chapters of this novel here on BC over the next week or two. I hope you all like the first two chapters! I'm endlessly grateful for your support.
Amazon Link: https://www.amazon.com/Youll-Fit-Right-Gradual-Feminization-...