In the cold regulated air of his new office, Dave lay motionless on his back. Above him, he felt the warm ass of his boss as she sat on him. She was just as still, however. Crouched over him, he could see into her new cleavage, able to make out her black laced bra. Her hands were splayed out on each side of his neck, thumbs hooked in his the collar of his work shirt as if to rip it off at a moment's notice. Instead, she was completely still. Her eyes were trained on the fidgeting knob of Dave's new office door. His eyes focused on the same thing. Both held their breath as the sound of a turning doorknob became the sound of an opening door.
"Dave!" The door flew open with his name, causing him to flinch, "I just heard the news! Let's go out for drinks tonight--" The enthusiastic voice stopped immediately, and Dave grimaced as he knew exactly who had just burst into his office. Dave silently eyed, still on his back, the stunned face of Peter Simpson. The man had joined the company just three weeks after him, and the two formed a friendship almost immediately. His offer to go drinking was not the first one, nor probably would it be the last one. It might be now, Dave thought and grimaced even harder.
"Mister Simpson," the woman above him said quickly, "come in, and please, close the door." Her tone was unexpectedly bubbly, but there was obvious threat in there. It left Dave oddly confused, unsure of what Chris was playing at. Obviously it confused Peter as well, as he quietly stepped all the way through the frame and backed into the door, shutting it. He kept his eyes squarely focused on his two new superiors. Breathing in sharply, Dave was caught off guard at what began taking place with his office buddy's form.
"There is a reason," began Chris again, "that Dave has a secretary now, Mister Simpson." She sat up at this, letting Dave crane his head to see better. Still, her eyes remained razor focused on Peter's, even as he dropped a foot in height. The years of a sedentary job lost their effects on him as he quickly grew younger.
"I realize that Miss Reynolds..." Peter responded apologetically. It was far more feminine than Dave had ever heard from him, but it was nothing to his rapidly slimming body. Dropping over fifteen years, his office shirt changed along with him as two orbs quickly pushed out of his chest. They sagged briefly before the outline of a bra became apparent. The shirt also tightened at the bottom, accentuating his increasingly hourglass waist. The hair on his head was no longer a business shag, but a well-maintained cascade of brunette hair that tumbled over shoulders before hanging off what were now double-D breasts, exactly like Chris Reynolds.
"… I just wanted to congratulate Dave on his promotion." Peter said in a new, bubbly tone while pulling now very female fingers nervously through a lock of hair. A tight fitting pair of business pants and the uncertain clicking of heels on carpet told Dave, still underneath his boss, everything he needed to know about his old friend now.
"As did I, Miss Simpson." Chris's said calmly, lightly like Peter. The threatening edge to her tone was now gone. "Would you like to join me in congratulating him?"
Dave watched his former male colleague blush intensely for a few seconds, before nodding sheepishly at Dave's boss.
"Then lock the door," Chris said simply, before forcing Dave back down so he could stare only at the ceiling or her bosom. He could hear the heavy bolt of a lock over by the door. Before he could do anything else, a second pair of hands began to pull at the button on his work pants. Reynolds continued her own unbuttoning, eventually pulling Dave's work shirt off. He could feel himself grow a bit red like Peter as a pair of hands gripped the elastic of his briefs.