Totally Spies - Suiting the Job

“You sure this is the right place?” Clint asked as the three of them stopped the outside of the office building. Sam checked his phone, re-reading the email for what felt like the thousandth time that day.

“This is definitely it”, he said, pocketing his phone.

“It doesn’t look like the headquarters of a global organisation…” Alex chimed in, his voice echoing across the empty street. The other two friends nodded their heads in agreement. The three of them had all applied for a job on a whim, working at the ‘World Organization of Human Protection’. The job description had been mysteriously vague, but with the promises of ‘full training packages’ and ‘international travel’, all three had decided that it was worth a shot to apply for. The application was long and as odd as everything else – it asked little about their experience, but more for their compatibility with other potential teammates. All had found the job posting suspicious, but they had nothing to lose. Which made it all the more surprising when after a month of no responses, all three of them were offered interviews on the same day, in the same location.

Sam looked over the front of the office. It was as nondescript as any other in this part of town, quiet, unassuming. “You think this is the wrong place? Or some kind of prank?” Clint asked.

“I don’t think so. Why would a job go through all this effort to prank three guys and waste their day off?” Sam responded. “Besides, they’ve got to be some sort of charity with a name like the ‘World Organization of Human Protection’. Do you think a charity is going to do that?”

“How do you know they’re a charity?” Alex added.

“Well, I guess from the name? Human protection. That sounds charitable, you know?” Sam responded with a frown. He hadn’t really considered their name before, and the job posting wasn’t much help. He could find nothing about the company online, with every link being dead or leading him on an endless loop of uselessly blank websites.

“You think a global charity is going to be based here, in an old office building on this side of town?” Alex asked with a scoff. Clint cleared his throat.

“It could be part of the test. You know, the job interview?” he said.

“Well, I think it’s a waste of time. I’m driving back home – you guys are welcome to come or walk back later”, Alex said, beginning to walk away. Just then, Sam spotted a tiny buzzer next to the main door. There was no note on who is belonged to, but Sam thought that there was no harm in trying. He reached over and pressed the small metal button, hearing a tinny buzz from the other side. A man’s voice, speaking in a clipped, upper class British accent soon responded.

“Hello, you’ve reached the World Organization of Human Protection. How can I help?” the intercom said. Alex immediately stopped in his tracks, ignoring the smug looks from his friends Sam and Clint.

“We’re here for the interview. This is the right place, right?” Clint said, leaning into the microphone.

“Ah, yes! Splendid”, the man on the other end said. “Sam, Clint, and Alex. Thank you all for coming, gentlemen. I hope you forgive the location – it’s a lot less glamorous than how we usually like to operate here at WHOOP, but needs must”. The door slid open with a mechanical hiss. “Please, step right inside, and we’ll begin the interview”.

The three men went inside the building, soon finding themselves in a slick, modern room, with shining metallic floors. It didn’t look like the foyer of an international organisation, or even a workplace at all. Sam walked unsteadily as he looked it over. Its only feature was that on the other side of the small room were three separate doors. The other man’s voice came over the intercom once more, coming from the ceiling of the room.

“I do apologise for how long it took to get back to you all. We have to run thorough background checks for all our potential candidates. Just part of how we operate – nothing to worry about, I can assure you!” he said, his voice cheerful despite the dull surroundings that the three friends were in.

“What sort of work do you do here, anyway?” Sam dared to ask. There was a brief pause on the other end of the intercom as the man considered his answer.

“We’re a global agency, specialising in security”, he said, to an audible sigh from the candidates. “Again, I apologise for how vague I have to be. All will be revealed as you make it through your interview, I promise”.

“You have all passed the background check, otherwise you wouldn’t be here”, the disembodied voice continued. “The next stage of the interview is the physical analysis. If you could all please go into the separate doors ahead of you and we’ll begin to examination”. The doors at the far side of the room slid open. “Alex, your room is on the left. Sam, you are in the middle. And finally, Clint, if you can go into the right door”. With an awkward, thin-lipped smile between them, the men split, heading off into their rooms.

Sam found himself in a room far smaller than the one he had just left, but in the same minimalistic style. A strange array of mechanical arms, tubes, and scanning devices was set into the high ceiling. As he walked in, one of the scanners followed him.

“Excellent. Now, for your physical examination, if you could all strip off, that would make the process easier”, the voice said.

“What? I’m not doing that…” Sam said, outraged. “What kind of job interview is this?”

“This is just a routine physical examination, that’s all. Nothing to worry about”, the voice repeated. Sam could already hear the muffled crumple of fabric from the room to his right as Clint began to strip. Whilst the three men couldn’t see each other, it seemed that the rooms were far from soundproof.

“Come on, Sam”, Clint said. “Do you want this job or not?”

Sam sighed, the dangling scanner drawing nearer. He had to admit, money had been tight recently. Though he still knew next to nothing about the job, it certainly did sound intriguing. Begrudgingly, he began to take off his clothes.

“Excellent. Thank you, gentlemen”, came the voice again as Sam soon stood naked in the cold room. Though he wasn’t sure if there were any cameras, he wasn’t taking any chances and covered his manhood as best as he could. The scanner began to examine every inch of him, scanning him top to bottom with a faint green light. Sam could only assume that his friends were going through the same process in the rooms next to him. With a satisfied, mechanical beep, the scanner had finished.

“This scanner is going to keep track of not only your physical attributes, but also your mental fitness for the job”, the voice explained.

“What do you mean?” Alex asked from the left-hand room.

“Just think of it like this: the more you want the job, the easier the interview process will be. Does that make sense?” There was a murmur of assent from all three rooms. “Excellent. In that case, let’s proceed with the next phase. This is nothing to worry about, just a precaution to make sure you’re the right fit…”

With a sudden whirring, the mechanical arms above Sam reached down and picked him up by the shoulders. Instinctively, he tried to thrash against them, but it was futile. He was stuck fast. They lifted him up off of the floor, leaving his legs swinging. In the middle of the room, Sam noticed a circular panel had appeared in the floor. On it was a pile of indiscernible green plastic, shining brightly in the lights.

“What’s going on?” Clint cried out from the room over.

“We’ve just got to make sure you fit the company uniforms! The scanners will adjust things to your comfort levels, it’s nothing painful!” the man said. Even though Sam could only hear his voice, he could sense that he was smiling as he spoke, trying to put them at ease. Sam could hear the strains and grunts of the other two stop as they gave up fighting against the mechanical arms. Slowly, the men were moved forward, dangling over the plastic in the middle of the room. Looking down, Sam could see a smaller set of arms had appeared, lifting up the plastic material slightly. Now that he was closer, he could see that it was some sort of bodysuit, only being held up from the waist down, and all in a bright green latex. Slowly, the arms began to lower Sam down into it.

He tried to kick his legs out and avoid being placed inside of the suit, but the smaller arms were quicker, and his errant feet were soon pushed back into place.

“This has to stop!” he cried out.

“What do you mean?” Alex called over. “It’s not so bad!” Sam could only picture what was happening next door, but if his friend Alex was able to put up with the suit, maybe he could too? He took a deep breath and tried to relax a little. The arms tweaked and adjusted the suit as he was lowered, but even with the help of the machines it was clear that it was far too small for him. His legs were uncomfortably squeezed inside up to his knees. He found his feet settling strangely and looking down he realised that the suit had a pair of integrated high heels. Sam had never worn them before, and they were as uncomfortable as he had always imagined. He could barely stand up in them, let alone walk. With another adjustment from one of the whirring arms, he found that what little of his legs were squeezed into the suit began to feel much more comfortable. As he looked, he noticed that his lower legs and feet had lost all of their bulk, the latex now clinging to him tightly but smoothly.

“What’s happening to me?” Sam yelled in panic, but the intercom had gone silent. He could hear, however, Alex and Clint’s voices, panting softly in what sounded like pleasure.

“God, it’s just gone over my crotch!” Alex’s said, his voice shifting higher with every syllable.

“Me too!” Clint said. “This feels amazing!”

Sam tried to take another deep breath to focus. He remembered what the voice had said, that the more that they wanted the position the more comfortable the process would be. Whatever was happening to the two other men, it seemed to be happening far faster than it was for Sam. He could just about see a dim reflection in the metallic glean from the arms at his leg. From the low angle, all he could see was feet and lower legs. Just viewed on their own, without his nude body squeezing into the suit, his legs looked strangely feminine, catching the bright lights of the room on his curves.

He tried to relax as the hands continued their work. Squeezing and teasing, the latex was pulled up his bare legs so tight it could be a second skin. Spying the reflection, Sam noticed that his legs seemed to be reforming as he slowly fit into the suit. The latex slipped over his knees and slowly continued its encroachment towards his crotch. Though he had no way of removing the suit with the arms holding it fast, he was certain that his skin had changed. It felt softer and more sensitive, picking up the cool sensation of the suit as it rubbed against his flesh. When it reached his thighs, he felt the fat within them swell, bulking out his skinny thighs into a womanly pair of hips. As the arms adjusted, he caught a glimpse of his own face in the reflection, flushed red. He had to admit it – this felt good. And, if the soft, feminine moans from the other rooms were anything to go by, it was about to feel even better.

As if sensing his resistance to the change slipping away, the arms tugged the suit up towards his belly button, bringing in his hips with a tight belt, decorated with a girlish heart. Sam gasped; his voice having shifted up several octaves. In the sheen of the whirring arms, he could see that the expectedly tight bulge in the latex was absent. His manhood was gone, slipping inside of him with a pleasurable, powerful pop. Unable to reach down and inspect his new genitalia, Sam could only stare at the tight latex, pulled taut against his vagina, growing in wetness with every passing second. Just as his thighs had done so, he felt the fat of his rear blossom, giving him a pert, curvy behind, the latex leaving little to the imagination.

The gratifying cries of Alex and Clint in the rooms next to him grew all the louder. A part of him was confused at the change, but he couldn’t deny how good it felt to have the suit so close to his newer, sexier body. It was a feeling unlike any he had ever experienced, with a rush of unfamiliar hormones coursing through his changing form. As much as Sam was baffled by the change, the intense feeling drove him to one unstoppable thought, as bright as the green he now wore. He wanted more pleasure. Much more.

The hands moved quicker, sliding the suit up further along his body. His stomach thinned, slimming down to an almost waspish, womanly size. He heard two thuds from his friends as they were assumedly dropped by the machines. Soon after, he heard two doors open. Sam wanted to go out there and join them, to explore their new bodies together. He willed the arms to work faster, and they did so.

With a sudden burst of speed, they slipped over his nipples. Within moments, his soft, tender flesh swelled into a pair of perky breasts, made all the more prominent by the tight, supportive latex. His nipples grew so hard he almost thought they would pierce through the shining material. Sam couldn’t help but moan – the sensation of them rubbing against the latex was unfamiliar, but undeniably powerful.

As the suit came in closer around his neck, Sam could barely believe what he was seeing. As it fastened tight around his throat, his shoulders shrunk down. Gone was his masculine edge, replaced by a feminine petiteness that he was slowly falling in love with. From the neck down, he was a woman, dressed in a tight, sensual bodysuit. He had never considered it before now, but green was fast becoming his favourite colour. Another pleasured cry from outside reminded Sam to hurry. He looked up at the tangle of arms and tubes above him.

“I’m ready. I want more”, he said, his voice no longer his own. It was now clearer, bubblier, and with a powerful tone that spoke of the self-assuredness of a young woman. In response to his demand, a series of tubes tumbled down from the ceiling, connecting to the plastic plugs set on his elbows and knees with a hiss of vacuum sealed substances. Sam’s hair, once dark and cropped, was now growing at an alarming rate, shooting out from his scalp in long straight strands. The colour had shifted into a bright, clear red. Unconsciously, Sam toyed with his hair with his darker green fingertips, letting it sit naturally over his nipples. The two colours, the bright red of his hair and the glossy green of his suit fit together perfectly. He felt his jaw click, the pressure changing in his ears. He let out a panting moan as his face adjusted further. Looking at the now idle arm hanging before him, Sam couldn’t help but smile as he saw the playful, female face staring back at him. His nose was now a cute button, his eyebrows perfectly trimmed, and a light pink lipstick giving his lips a shine that was only surpassed by his suit.

Another hiss from the pipes and new thoughts and memories began to flood into his brain. He still retained himself, but more thoughts and experiences were being piled on top: the muscle memory of walking in heels and applying makeup, and a great intelligence and academic skill that Sam had never possessed. He didn’t resist the new memories, letting them wash over and integrate with his own. Sam was dropped from the mechanical arms with a thud, landing neatly in their new shoes.

Sam couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to get out of this room and to explore her friend’s bodies as much as she needed them to explore hers. She knew that they were the perfect team – but she had a raw, primal urge to feel their hands running along her new curves and to feel the closeness and warmth of their bodies, assumedly squeezed into the same tight suits.  Running, she burst out of the door at the far side of the room, ending up in a long hallway.

A dark-haired woman was pressed up against another wall, her yellow suit being cradled by another. A blonde girl, dressed in a bright red, held her in a tight embrace. Sam saw their lips passionately kissing each other, their slick tongues toying with each other’s mouths. Upon seeing her, the dark-haired woman pulled away, her pouting lips cracking into a lusty smile.

“We were going to wait for you…” she said, being cut off with a giggle from the blonde.

“But we just couldn’t help ourselves!” she said, laughing. Both girls moved towards Sam, and she let them take over. Within seconds she was squeezed up against the wall, the other women’s breasts pressing and rubbing against her own, all encased in the tight latex of their cat suits. She closed her eyes in ecstasy. A soft hand reached down for her womanhood, rubbing it tenderly through the thin material. Another pair of red hands grabbed her softly around the neck and head, guiding her into a deep, sensual kiss. Sam had never kissed someone with lips so soft before. She was overwhelmed with all the new experiences – the feeling of someone rubbing her new clit, the weight of her hair being played with, even the sweet, perfumed scent of them all.

The dark-haired girl rubbed with more vigour, and Sam couldn’t help but move her hips in time. The blonde’s hands slipped down from her face, pinching at her swollen nipples. Sam felt that she was on the cusp of something new, something overwhelming. Then, it crashed down over her.

Sam’s orgasmic cry echoed down the hall. Her virgin vagina grew soaked, and her toes curled up ecstatically inside of her high heels.  After giving her a moment to collect herself, leaning against the wall for support, the other two women embraced her, laughing tenderly. As she looked between their faces, she knew that this was the right decision. She couldn’t wait to feel truly part of the team.

That same British voice came over the intercom again.

“Well, if that’s all over with, ladies, we’ve still got a lot more training to do. Sam, Clover, and Alex, if you could go down the hall to the next room, please?” he asked. “Oh, and welcome to WHOOP!”

Sam walked between Clover and Alex, feeling their warm hands interlace with her own as they stepped in time.

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This was a fun commission for the wonderful Leonthar! The picture is of the cosplayer polligulina, used with permission.