Ctrl Alt Defeat: A Secretary's Takeover 04

Chapter 4: A Hair-Raising Experience

The morning air was crisp, infused with a sense of purpose as Mia strode through the bustling streets, her mission clear and her mood buoyant. She was to procure everything needed to complete Mr Wright's transformation from overbearing boss to sexy secretary. As she navigated through aisles and racks, her mind occasionally drifted to thoughts of Mr Wright at the salon.

Getting him there had been a battle of wills. He had awoken grumpy and resistant, muttering protests and questioning everything. Mia had needed all her patience to remain calm while quashing his complaints - Reminding the pig-headed man what was at stake, which seemed to realign his priorities, albeit grudgingly.

As Mia flipped through a rack of dresses in a chic boutique, her mind wandered to Mr Wright, likely sitting under the bright salon lights at that very moment. As she held a flashy little number up to the light, scrutinizing the fabric and its fall, a mischievous chuckle escaped her lips. She wondered how long it had taken Mr Wright to realize that she had informed the salon that he was transitioning and that today was his coming out day. The thought of his embarrassment, surrounded by the salon’s staff bustling around him, offering enthusiastic support and beauty tips, was deliciously satisfying.

Turning the dress in her hands, Mia considered the length of the hem while draped over her boss's feminized frame. It had to be just right - After all, Mr Wright had been very clear with his instructions. Placing the dress in her basket, Mia’s mind again drifted back to Mr Wright’s ongoing salon session. The all-over body waxing - which included his eyebrows and lower face - would certainly be complete by now. Mia imagined the scene vividly: the salon’s bright lights, the rip of the wax strips, Mr Wright's shocked expressions, and likely a loud scream at the initial yank of hair from skin. The idea brought a grin to her face, mingled with a vindictive pleasure.

Yet, the final reveal was what truly excited her. Mr Wright, fresh with a spray tan, eyelash extensions fluttering, ears pierced, and his nails extended and painted, would be a sight to behold. More importantly, Mia hoped the experience would offer him a new perspective - a painful lesson into the lengths that women often went to mold themselves into the image set forth by a corporate world still dominated by men.

After a final, productive stop at a boutique specializing in crossdressing and male-to-female transformations, Mia returned to the salon, her arms heavy with bags. Each item, carefully selected, not just for aesthetics but for the profound impact she hoped they would have. And since all the purchases were charged to Mr Wright's credit card, Mia felt no guilt for the small fortune she had just spent.

Stepping into the cool, perfumed air of the salon,, laden with her bounty, her mood dampened slightly when the receptionist informed her that Mr Wright's makeover was not yet complete. Disappointment crept across her face, but it quickly evaporated as her eyes followed the direction of the receptionist's outstretched hand, causing her mouth to fall open in shock.

There, under a large salon dryer, sat Mr Wright. The startling sight of his altered face above his usual business suit momentarily took Mia’s breath away. He was slumped in the chair, with a clear expression of glum resignation on his face, as warm air hummed around him. His eyebrows had been thinned and delicately arched, emphasizing his dramatic, sultry eyes, now framed by thick, luscious eyelash extensions grafted to his natural lashes and tinted black. The final look surpassed Mia’s expectations, lending her boss an unmistakably feminine appearance.

Mia stood frozen, absorbing every detail of the changes. Her gaze was drawn to his almost claw-like nails. With his fingers interlocked, Mr Wright seemed unsure of how to manage his hands, now sporting enormous glossy talons. Mia shook her head, aware that even the simplest tasks, were about to become much more challenging. She wondered if he had somehow insulted the manicurist, prompting her to saddle him with such impractical nails.

(See image 07)

As the corners of Mia's mouth twitched upwards, she contemplated whether to approach for a closer inspection. However, anticipating a barrage of complaints or potentially harsh words, she decided to meet him back at the hotel, while imagining his walk of shame. She asked the receptionist to convey the message and swiftly exited the salon before Mr Wright noticed her.

Mia decided to wait for her boss in his comparably nicer penthouse suite. She ordered a light lunch from room service and settled on the luxurious sofa to flick through a magazine. About forty-five minutes later, Mr Wright burst through the door, head down and hands shoved deep into his pockets.

"How was the salon?" Mia asked, looking up from her comfortable position on the sofa, her voice casual, while suppressing the smile tugging at her lips.

"I don't want to talk about it," Mr Wright roared back, his voice thick with irritation as he stomped towards the bathroom. "After I wash all this off, you and I are going to have some harsh words," he added gruffly before slamming the bathroom door shut.

From the main living area of the hotel suite, Mia could hear the shower turn on followed by a series of muffled curses that faded into a quiet resignation. After twenty minutes, the total silence piqued her curiosity. Approaching the bathroom door, she knocked gently. "Mr Wright, are you okay in there? Can I come in, Sir?" she inquired through the door.

"No! Go away," came the firm but weary response.

Ignoring his plea, Mia opened the door slightly and peered inside to find Mr Wright sitting on the ground next to the large bathtub. He was wearing a pair of off-white sweatpants and a large dressing gown. His hands were hidden from sight, and his head was hung in what appeared to be shame or perhaps defeat.

"What are you doing down there, Sir?" Mia chirped, feigning ignorance to his distress. "We don’t have time to waste resting. We still have a lot of work to do if we’re going to have you ready in time for this meeting."

"It won’t come off, Mia!" Mr Wright moaned, shaking his head in frustration.

"What won’t come off, Sir?" Mia asked, playing dumb.

"All of it," Mr Wright boomed as he lifted his head to meet her gaze for the first time, looking much less intimidating than usual with his long eyelashes fluttering inadvertently. "The tan. The black in my hair. These goddamn nails!" he exclaimed, lifting his hands to show her. "Even these eyelashes! They’re all stuck!"

"Well of course they’re stuck, Sir," Mia replied in a calm and composed voice. "Well, temporarily at least. That’s the whole point. We need you to look authentic for the meeting."

"Authentic! I look ridiculous," he shot back, the flush of embarrassment clear on his face. "Do you know how embarrassing it was walking back to the hotel like this? These nails are so long, they don’t even fit in my pockets."

"Well, why did you ask for such long ones, Sir?" Mia asked innocently, turning her head to hide a smirk.

"Ask for these ridiculous claws," he spat back, his hands waving frantically. Are you stupid, woman? Why would you ask me such an idiotic question,” Mr Wright snapped, his patience clearly worn thin.

"Please calm yourself down, Mr Wright. I realize that you’ve had a stressful day, but please don’t take it out on me," Mia responded sternly while folding her arms. “I’m merely asking why, when the manicurist asked what style you’d like - as manicurists always do - you didn’t ask for a shorter style. Nail extensions always go on long but can be trimmed down to any length you desire."

Morgan Wright looked at his assistant with a stunned expression, his high-arched brows increasing his surprised look, making it almost comical. "I… didn’t know," he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "For heaven's sake, Mia. What am I supposed to do now? I look like a freak," he asked, his voice laden with a rare vulnerability.

Mia smiled warmly, a kindness in her eyes. "You don’t look like a freak, Sir," she reassured. "You look great. Better than expected. There’s no way Mr Horton will recognize. Which was the whole point, wasn’t it?"

"You really think I look okay?" Mr Wright asked, his voice carrying a note of insecurity.

"You will, once we finish getting you ready," Mia replied, eager to move on to the next step in her master plan. "So, are we going to complete the task and save Stitch & Sovereign, or are we going home?"

Mr Wright looked uncertain, the weight of his new appearance bearing down on him, before taking a deep breath. "You’re sure all of this can be easily reversed later?"

"Certain, Sir. Trust me," Mia answered with a sly smile. "So, shall we continue?"

"Okay," Mr Wright said, reluctantly agreeing as he awkwardly got up from the floor, his extremely long nails complicating the previously simple action of pushing himself off the ground. "What’s next?"

"Hair," Mia replied as she marched from the room. "Come through to the main room and we’ll see what I can do."

"Fine," Mr Wright said in a meek voice. "But can you make me a cup of tea first? I need to calm my nerves."

Mia, taken aback by the request, almost refused. However, with Mr Wright finally co-operating, she didn’t want to risk another meltdown. For the next few minutes, the room fell silent, save for the sound of the kettle boiling. 'Soon you’ll be the one making the tea,' Mia thought, glancing at Mr Wright, who was staring down at his hands, mourning the dexterity he used to take for granted.

When ready, Mia walked over and placed the tea on a tabletop. "It’s hot," she cautioned. "Why don’t you take a seat while it cools?" 

Mr Wright grunted in acknowledgement and moved to sit on a large wooden chair "So about my hair?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. "Why did they dye it black at the salon? I thought I was going to wear a wig?"

"You are," Mia replied as she rummaged through a bag. "Well, sort of. I was planning to wear this for the meeting after you complained that my hair was too short. What was it you said? Oh yeah, that a real secretary should have long hair." She added as she pulled out a mass of silky long hair, holding it up for him to see.

Seeing Mr Wright's perplexed look, she explained further. "This is a hairpiece made of real human hair. It attaches at the top of the head, giving the appearance of a long ponytail."

"You’re going to attach that thing to me?" Mr Wright asked, his eyes wide with apprehension.

That's the plan, Sir. Now that your hair colour matches mine, this hairpiece will blend seamlessly and appear more natural than a wig. I thought this approach would be safer, considering a wig might slip off!" Mia explained, justifying her decision to have Morgan Wright wear the hairpiece she had felt pressured to wear before they decided to trade places.

Before Mr Wright could protest, Mia squeezed a dollop of hair gel onto her palms, working it through Mr Wright's freshly dyed black hair, the slick substance making it easier to manage and style. Next, she picked up a brush and began tugging his hair back, her movements brisk and somewhat forceful.

She then gathered his hair and twisted it into a high, extremely tight topknot at the crown of his head. The tension from the topknot pulled at Mr Wright’s skin, causing his face to grimace. “It’s too tight,” he complained, his hand reaching up, only for Mia to bat it away.

Ignoring his complaints, Mia continued with her task, knowing the tension he must be feeling, and enjoying watching her boss squirm. Finally, she took the lush cascade of silky hair and began attaching it to the topknot. She used a series of ties to bind the extension securely, followed by several hairpins pushed deftly through the knot. Each pin was placed strategically, ensuring that the ponytail wouldn't be easy to remove.

Seeing Mr Wright wince from the tightness of his girly hairstyle, Mia couldn’t help feeling satisfied. "There, all done," she announced cheerfully, handing him his cup of tea.

Mr Wright took the cup gingerly, fumbling slightly as he tried to navigate holding the mug with his elongated nails. It was another frustrating discovery - that another simple task, that he used to take for granted, had now become much more difficult due to his cumbersome nails.

"Excellent," Mr Wright declared as he rose from his seat. Pausing for a moment, a flicker of surprise danced across his pretty face upon feeling the unfamiliar weight and sway of the long hair against his shoulders - a most unsettling sensation. "So, we're finished?" he announced hopefully, turning towards Mia with a tentative smile.

 “Yes,” Mia replied, pausing for effect. “With your hair,” she finally added, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Now it’s time to give you the body and face you’ve told me Mr Horton expects in a secretary." Watching with amusement as Mr Wright’s fleeting smile faltered.

(See image 08)

“My body and face?” he enquired, his voice tinged with apprehension. "Really. Must we, Mia?"

“Yes, Mr Wright. Remember, today you’re the secretary. And to play the part without suspicion, you need a look completely different to your normally appearance,” Mia explained matter-of-factly. “For that reason, I’ve arranged for a woman to come over to help.”

“What?” Mr Wright shrieked, his anxiety palpable. “Mia, who is this woman?”

Mia offered a reassuring smile. “She’s someone with the skills we need to give you the appearance of a woman. Skills I don’t have.”

Mr Wright looked unsure. “And what is she going to do to me with these... skills?”

“She will use some padding to adjust your figure and some tricks to alter your facial appearance.” Mia replied as if what she was saying was completely normal. “I know it sounds scary, but this will be a crucial part of tricking Mr Horton into believing you’re someone else. Try to relax, Sir, and think of the positives. The worst is behind you now, and in a few hours, Stitch & Sovereign will be saved.”

Despite his reservations, Mr Wright slowly nodded, believing that he had already gone too far to give up now. While also knowing that this bizarre and uncomfortable ordeal was his best shot at saving his company, and his family legacy.