Caught Between

by Laurie S. aka l.satori

  

7

The next week was a whir and blur of studying and studying and more studying.

Then came the exams.

The bad thing about exams always was the pressure. Knowing that what you did in that condensed span of time determined your ultimate success or lack of success. Fortunately, I had always been a good exam writer. But, I suppose that was true of all the students at Queen's University. I mean it was supposed to be the Harvard or Oxford of Canada, although since I never attended those two other snobby schools I couldn't really say how our snobby school stacked up against them. But, if you really wanted to know the truth, I thought I had encountered a few really dumb students at Queen's. Then again, wasn't George W. Bush a Harvard grad? I suppose if success was a true measure of a man, then Harvard must have been a great school.

By the last week of April, the exams were all over.

I thought I did pretty well for a retarded kid from Ontario. But, we'd find out sometime later in the summer. I wasn't exactly sure when all the exams would get marked and when the profs would calculate the marks and bell-curve the results and all.

But, I guess it was one of those seasonal things, like swallows returning to Capistrano. Speaking of which, where did the ducks actually go during the winter time? I never saw them in the park in the winter time. Then magically they'd reappear in the spring. Okay, they flew somewhere south. But exactly where?

Unlike high school, at this time of year, I'd still be attending classes. I did have time to catch up on the Stanley Cup hockey playoffs. Now, normally the Anaheim Mighty Ducks, come playoff time, went to the golf course. Then I wondered, what if they ever became Stanley Cup Champions, would Duck superstar goalie Jean Sebastien Giguere celebrate by taking his family to Disneyland? I mean the Mighty Ducks were owned by the Disney Corporation. The Ducks played all their home games at the Duck Pond beside Disneyland. Just wondering. Maybe Giguere would have to take his family to EuroDisney.

When I was a kid, playing hockey, I always played goal. I'd pretend to be Patrick Roy or Dominik Hasek, the two best goalies in the world. During the games, I'd sprawl into the butterfly position like Roy or twist my body Gumby style like Hasek. Doing the splits, snaking out my glove, flashing out my goal stick or taking one off the mask, I was the ultimate goalie! Wigglin' Willie Copperfield! And when I let in too many goals, I was Wobbly Willie Copperfield. Like Rodney Dangerfield, I didn't get no respect. From hero to zero after one lousy game. Too bad I wasn't good enough to make the NHL or even junior hockey.

Where was I? Oh, right. Having quit my job at the Hook and Ladder, I was busy preparing for my new summer job.

But, I had to admit. I was feeling very restless.

Many of my student friends either had gone home for the summer or were preparing to depart very soon.

And for some reason, I don't know what, Allison and I weren't as close as we once were. As a matter of fact, when I was just entering Dunning Hall to write my Economics exam a few days ago, I could have swore I saw Allison walking further down University Avenue toward the Stauffer Library with a male friend, but, since I had to write my exam, I didn't have time to catch up to her. More than likely it was probably one of her colleagues in Drama or maybe someone involved in the cast of Chicago.

Allison sure was spending a lot of her time rehearsing for that play. I suppose she had to since she had the role of Velma Kelly.

With all my school activities finished, I had some time available that just hadn't existed for the previous eight months.

I was feeling down in the dumps. I was feeling the blues.

Actually the biggest reason wasn't that hard to pinpoint.

Linda, my alter-ego, had been stored away in my closet for more than two weeks. And she was screaming to be let out.

I didn't really understand why I had these urges to bring her back. I mean she wasn't a real person. She was really William Hold'em Copperfield wearing a wig, makeup and a dress.

While I worked at the Hook and Ladder, it had been easy to justify her existence. I was making good money. Twelve hundred dollars a week was far more than I would have made anywhere else.

But now, Linda wanted to come back and my resistance to the thought was weakening. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized dressing up was what I wanted to do.

It was great to be able to be someone else for a little while. In fact, for inspiration, there were a growing number of television shows that were devoted to that concept.

Faking It was an identity changing show. One episode I remembered seeing was entitled Drag Racer to Drag Queen. It involved taking a male race-car driver and, over a three week preparation period, he was turned into a professional female impersonator. This driver not only underwent a transformation in appearance but also received training in developing a lip-synch dance routine from a choreographer, former Miss Continental, Candis Cayne. Then, for the show's finale, the impostor competed against three professional drag performers. A judging panel was then asked to select the person they thought was the fake.

Extreme Makeover used face-lifts, implants, liposuction, dental work, personal trainers, makeup artists, hair stylists, and wardrobe consultants to completely transform a person displeased with his or her looks into the beautiful person he or she really wanted to be.

The show Becoming helped music fans morph into their favorite pop music idol. The show's staff helped change the fan's looks and then hired dancers to help replicate the music video of a star.

These reality shows were simply unreal.

So, the seed had been planted way back on Halloween. And over the course of time that 'Linda' worked at the strip club, a complete female personality had developed.

When I laid out the makeup on the counter in the bathroom, I somehow felt excited that Linda was coming back to me.

The transformation would take at least an hour. I was going to enjoy every minute of it.

 

8

The taxi cab dropped me off at the corner of King and Johnson, in front of the sordid Hook and Ladder Club.

Looking at the familiar Tudor exterior brought back a memory of the time about a few months ago that I had first applied for the position of cocktail waitress.

The poster at the entrance proclaimed it was Ladies Night. Nell Fenwick and the Full Mounty All Male Revue were back once more. The poster showed a photo of beautiful damsel in distress, Nell Fenwick, plus Dudley Do Right, Snidely Whiplash and some amazing bare-chested male dancers with the best bodies you've ever seen. Really hot stuff!

I knew I had enough time to visit with the staff before the show.

As soon as I walked in the door, the blare of music, the odor of cigarette smoke, and the chatter of a large gathering of women energized me. Immediately I saw big Phil. He was the bouncer. A black stud with the size and build of a pro wrestler. Rumor had it that Phil had spent some time in the Kingston Pen - a manslaughter charge. But I always got along well with him. He had helped me out with some of the unruly customers in the past. We chatted briefly.

But then Sinead spotted me!

Immediately Sinead put down her full tray on the bar and ran over to greet me.

She practically jumped on me! Then Sinead bear hugged me for a few moments, squeezing all of the air out of me. She kissed me on both cheeks and I kissed her on both cheeks. It felt so wonderful!

Sinead was wearing a shiny black PVC top and miniskirt plus long thigh-high leather boots. She looked hot, hot, hot!

"Oh Linda! I'm so glad you came!" gushed Sinead. "I've missed you so much!"

"Sinead! Me too! I couldn't bear to stay away any longer!"

"You look marvelous! That dress! It's absolutely sinful!"

I responded by opening up my coat so Sinead could have a better look.

"You're looking great! My oh my! You've changed your hairstyle. It's so curly and so full of body!"

"You like it?" asked Sinead.

"Oh, of course I do. It's lovely. Maybe I should get the name of your stylist?"

"Oh sure, no problem. I'll give you his card later. So how are you doing?"

We chatted for several minutes. I got caught up on how things were in the club. I found out about the new girl who was taking my place and how she was fitting in. We talked about Sinead's boyfriend, the cop. Apparently they were getting very, very serious. Sinead said she was hopeful they'd get engaged.

I told her about how things had gone at school.

But that's as far as we got.

The manager, Harry Thomas came over and interrupted us. Although Harry did say hi to me, he was concerned about getting Sinead back to serving the sex thirsty customers.

I couldn't really blame him. The place was packed. There was hardly an empty seat in the house.

As Sinead returned to the bar to pick up her tray of drinks, I talked with Harry Thomas. I can't say that I ever felt completely comfortable with Harry. I always felt he was a bit of a sleaze ball. He was always looking at my breasts. Even now he was trying to peer through the open front of my long coat. Inwardly I laughed. If he only knew my little secret, it might've changed his view of me. However, I didn't want to burn this bridge behind me. I might want to come back some day, so I tried to make our conversation as cordial as possible.

Luckily the bartender, Jack spotted me. So I went over to say hi to him.

I was getting rather warm under the long imitation leather coat, so I decided to remove it.

My little black dress was a body-hugging knockout!

With thin spaghetti straps to maximize skin exposure, it was cut low in the front to show ample cleavage. It dared men to reach out and touch someone. The skirt part was short so it showed off my long curvaceous legs. But it was almost like lingerie because of a thin, almost transparent black mesh that extended the short skirt. The mesh flared out from the area below the crotch and extended down to the outer leg, about eight inches below my knees. From the frontal view, the inverted V shape of the mesh skirt pointed to hidden treasure.

From my open-toed sandal type high heels all the way to the cascade of auburn tresses, I felt very sexy and very frisky tonight.

Jack's eyes almost bugged out!

Then, while he complimented me on my outfit, he spoke directly to my chest. Men!

I thanked him.

We chatted briefly. However, the drink orders were coming fast and furious, so I felt compelled to move on.

I waved to Mark, the announcer/deejay up in the booth. He had just put on Crazy in Love by Beyonce Knowles.

As I looked around the club, I realized that life at the club hadn't skipped a beat since I had left. It was the same old place. My former co-workers were all very happy to see me, but, since I wasn't working here anymore, it wasn't quite like coming home. I didn't quite fit in, but I don't think it was a lack of friendliness or anything like that. It's just that everyone was busy.

There was one other person I wanted to see tonight. That was the star of the Full Mounty Revue - Nell Fenwick.

I knocked on the dressing room door. One of the male dancers, I think his name was Scott Longhorn, the one with the big tool, answered the door. He was dressed in a lumberjack's plaid shirt, Levi's and cowboy boots in keeping with the Full Mounty traditional theme.

There was a wide grin on his face as he looked me over from head to toe.

I asked to speak with Nell Fenwick.

Scott was a hunk! There must have been an ear-to-ear grin on my face too.

He reluctantly left me at the door and went to get Nell.

I turned back to the crowd for a moment. Ladies Night created a whole different atmosphere at the club. For one thing, they smelled a little nicer than the guys.

"Hello."

I heard a voice behind me. I turned around.

Nell Fenwick looked so sexy! She was attired in a long traditional summer dress with a crinoline. It was pink and frilly. It was apparent that Nell was wearing one of those old fashioned girdles too. Her bust looked quite amazing! A double D?

Here I was thinking that guys were pigs for always checking out my chest. And here I was doing exactly the same thing.

"Hi Nell, remember me?"

"Oh right, you're...Linda. I remember now. Don't you look hot!"

We hugged. I was getting used to this show business custom, but I kinda liked it, especially with someone as beautiful as Nell.

Whereas Nell's blonde hair had been long and straight before, tonight it was curly with many ringlets. I might have expected to see this kind of hairdo in the French Court of Marie Antoinette and Louis XIV.

And when I examined Nell's facial features up close, I was hard pressed to see the male side of Nell. I wondered if she lived full time as a female.

"Come in," said Nell. "It's too noisy out there."

"Will it be all right?" I asked tentatively.

"Certainly. I think the boys will be delighted to meet you," she said with an impish smile.

I stepped through the doorway and Nell closed the door behind me.

Although I had been in the performers' dressing room on occasion, it wasn't very often. And, of course, the other times I had been there, the strippers were all female.

What I saw next was a surprise. The 'boys' were in various stages of undress.

When they saw me, they scrambled to cover up.

"What the hell are you doing, Nell, bringing a girl in here?" complained one.

He had, I noted, a tiny cock, that he had scrambled to hide.

To tell you the truth, I admit it, I'm a pecker checker.

"Damn it Nell, this is our private place. We don't want any of the fans nosing around here. Tell her to wait outside," suggested Dudley Do Right.

Dudley had on most of his Mounty tunic, although he still hadn't put on the boots or the hat or done up all the buttons of his red coat.

"Keep the girls out," added Snidely Whiplash. "Tell her to be patient."

That brought a snicker from some of the guys.

The physiques on all of these guys! Muscles on muscles! Mr. Olympia type pectorals, washboard abs, bulging biceps! Quite astonishing!

"Relax fellas," said Nell in her soothing voice. "I'd like you to meet Linda. Linda used to work here at the Hook and Ladder. She was one of the cocktail waitresses."

"I thought I had seen her face before," said Scott Longhorn.

I was curious to see Scott's reputedly huge tool.

"Like you remember all the girls you've met," kidded Snidely.

"Actually," continued Nell, "I was interested in asking Linda if she'd be interested in joining me in one of my revues."

"You've got to be kidding," complained Dudley Do Right. "What would this girl be doing with our revue?"

"Yeah," agreed Mr. Tinycock. "The girls in the audience want to see guys. You'd have to change the billing. It wouldn't be an all-male revue."

"What I had in mind was that Linda would join me in my other revue," replied Nell.

"The drag revue?" asked Scott.

"Yes."

"Oh, have a girl in your female impersonation show and see if the crowd could guess who the real girl is?" suggested Snidely.

Nell laughed. "That's not a bad idea, except that Linda, here, is one of us."

There was a stunned silence.

"Linda's a guy?" asked Mr. Tinycock.

"That's right," I said in William's voice.

All the guys burst out in laughter.

Nell put her arm around my shoulder. She gave me a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek.

For the next few minutes, I talked with Nell. I explained to her I had a summer job lined up already. But, I wasn't sure how long it would last. The shortest it could possibly last was a few weeks. At best, it would last 'til Labor Day in early September. However, I wanted to come see her perform in her female impersonator revue. She told me they'd be performing in Montreal every Friday, Saturday and Sunday evening until the end of the month. Then, they'd launch a tour where they'd probably be working five or six days a week during the summer.

That sounded like it might be a possible fit for me. I told her I'd work on a lip-synch routine. I'd come visit her in Montreal and check out her new revue.

She told me if things couldn't be worked out that I shouldn't worry. She knew lots of drag performers. It's just that she was always looking for new young talent - the more beautiful the better.

I thanked her and assured her I'd be in touch.

When I left Nell and the boys in the dressing room, I knew I wanted to stick around, after seeing what I had seen of those fellas. I wanted very much to watch those amazing hunks perform.

As the club was even more crowded than before, these sexcited horny ladies in the audience sitting practically on each other's laps, it looked like I'd have to stand near the back of the lounge.

So I was looking for a spot with a decent sight line, when I spied someone in the crowd who was quite an eyeful. She sat about two tables away from where I was standing.

She was a gorgeous blonde goddess. Dressed in a turquoise dress that matched her exquisite blue eyes, she had an unbelievable body. She looked a lot like one of Charlie's Angels. Then it struck me! I had seen her dance here at the Hook and Ladder! It was Cameron Daze! I looked at her impressive cleavage. Weren't those magnificent implants a thing of beauty? And her long sexy legs? Absolutely fabulous! And sitting beside her was her even hotter sister, dazzling Stormy Daze!

When Cameron took a second look at me, I smiled at her.

Would you believe she got out of her seat and rushed over to give me a big hug?

When we embraced, Cameron kissed me on both cheeks! I kissed her on both cheeks!

Unbelievable!

Immediately I had randy feelings of lesbian lust!

And so did Cameron. I could see it in her eyes and feel it in the hand she had wrapped around my butt.

And when she moved three fingers up my butt crack, I kissed her on the mouth, right then and there, sticking my tongue in for good measure.

 

9

The next morning, I was awakened by a phone call.

I had to scramble out of bed to answer it.

It was the building security guy for Leonard Hall. He told me a package had arrived from Canada Post, but it had money owing on it. He asked if I could come down and pay the delivery charge and pick up the package.

So I told him I'd be down in two minutes. As I quickly put on jeans and a T-shirt, I was surprised to see it was already past one o'clock.

Ah well, the late night was well worth it! I never would regret the time I spent with Cameron Daze and Stormy Daze. Two lovely Daze in a negligee haze, I just wanted them back at my side.

It turned out the fake tits and the plastic pussy did come in discrete packaging.

When I brought it back to my room, after paying $47 in additional duty and handling fees, I could hardly wait to open the package.

I was never one of those kids that could take their time opening gifts on Christmas Day or on my birthday. I'd just rip the wrapping to shreds. I kinda liked that feeling of recklessness. Then when my parents asked who the gift was from, I'd have to search through the wreckage for the name tag. Then mom would remind me to thank Aunt Yadda Yadda Yadda for the toy the next time I saw her.

That Christmas morning feeling of excitement was back.

I ripped and ripped at the brown wrapping paper. Then I forced open the cardboard box.

There it was! Gorgeous D cup breasts! The tits felt so nice and spongy.

I whipped off my T-shirt, then held up the tits to my chest and looked in the mirror.

"Hello big boy. How'd you like to come up and see me sometime?" I purred Mae West style.

The breasts looked fabulous! They did have a thin, translucent edge to the skin part that made it possible to blend to my own skin. It looked promising. And the coloring was very close to my own skin tone.

I wished that I had the skill and experience of Hollywood makeup artists, but I was going to do my best to make this work.

Then I put the breasts back in the special clear plastic case that was designed to help the breasts retain their shape.

The fake vagina was next. After ripping off the cellophane, I held it up to my crotch. But I figured I should take off my jeans and boxers first.

The counterfeit clit was almost like the gaff that I would wrap around my crotch and rear end, only this thong had vaginal lips. But looking at it in the mirror, immediately I thought I'd probably cut off the strap part and just glue the vaginal lips into position over my taped up penis and testicles. That would require a little bit of work.

Also in the cardboard box were two spray cans - the adhesive and the adhesive remover.

I went over to my drawer and got out a pair of scissors. Then I moved to the bathroom and stood naked in the bathtub/shower enclosure. I started trimming my pubic hair, just a little bit. I thought I'd go for a heart shape. I'd seen that in a Penthouse Magazine photo. I figured if anyone was ever going to see Linda's private parts, I might as well do it up right.

After a few minutes of careful snipping, I turned on the water and watched the bits of pubic hair flow down the drain.

After doing my business, I took my time and enjoyed a leisurely bubble bath. I followed that up with a good close shave - of my face and pubes.

Hell! While I was at it, I might as well shave my legs too.

To tell you the truth, this task was a most sensual experience. I didn't have thick hair on my legs. But, I had to admit, when I was done, there was a silky smoothness to my legs. It made me feel sexier. Much sexier...to the point that I developed a hard-on.

And speaking of hard-ons, have you ever seen that ultimate party show on TV called Wild On? Ohmygod! Cindy Taylor and Brooke Burke knew how to stuff a wild bikini top and stiff my wild bikini bottom! It had to be the number one late night show in the student ghetto. Party on Wild On!

Like those strikingly beautiful hostesses, I wanted to go with a more natural look. One of the keys was to shape the eyebrows into thin feminine arches by using some theatrical putty, tattoo cover and powder. The rest of the makeover was kept light - if you could call the application of foundation makeup, powder, mascara, and lipstick light. Enhanced natural beauty! But I avoided adding any eye shadow, blush, or lip liner.

Now I was finally ready to try on the tits and breasts for the first time.

I retracted my balls, willing them up into a body cavity most guys hadn't used since they were in their mother's womb. Then I pushed my penis back in between my legs and then secured the position with flesh colored medical tape. As those extreme sports shows on television warned, "Do not try this at home."

I held up the phony clit against my crotch. Using scissors, I trimmed the latex prosthesis so that it barely covered my taped up penis. Looking at my backside in the mirror, I made sure the latex would cover the bandage. It was looking pretty good!

Next, I got out the adhesive spray can. In front of the mirror, I tried holding the false vagina up in the correct position. It covered the crotch area exactly. Hopefully my pubic hair would help cover any seam between the phony skin and my own skin.

Holding the spray can in my right hand, and the fake clit in my left, I sprayed the adhesive as evenly as I could.

Then I placed the prosthesis down on my dresser, tacky side up. According to the instructions, I had to wait five minutes before attaching the latex vagina.

So I moved onto the breasts. I held the D cups up to my chest. I looked at myself in the mirror. The breasts were awesome! Just like the Internet photo.

So I picked up the adhesive and sprayed it thinly and evenly on the inside areas of the false breasts.

I rechecked the crotch area. Then I picked up the phony vagina and placed it in the exact location I had created for it earlier.

For a few minutes, I pressed the latex piece onto my body. My hands held the prosthesis in place for about 60 seconds.

Then I checked my reflection in the mirror. The frontal view looked excellent! And then I turned around, bent over and checked the back view. It looked pretty good too.

But how could I add a little texture to the skin?

I went over to the closet and retrieved my auburn wig. I took the wig out of the black hairnet that kept the tresses in a tidy roll. Then I held the hairnet to my fake pussy. When I looked at my reflection in the mirror, with the right matching color, the hairnet might give the right kind of texture to my plastic pussy. When I applied some thick tattoo makeup and a little powder later on, I was hoping the vagina could fool anyone. Even up close.

And I had seen lots of naughty naked bodies, both tits and other forbidden bits, at the Hook and Ladder. There was one busty stripper I remembered 'cause of her unusual moniker. She was Candy 'The Big O' O'Shea. I thought, since Candy was from Montreal, her showbiz name had something to do with the Olympic Stadium, affectionately known as 'The Big Owe' 'cause of the huge debt incurred to build it. Or maybe you thought it was due to Candy's Irish heritage. But, if you want to know the truth, Candy was called 'The Big O' because of her titanic ZZ Top twat.

Supposedly, it could handle a torpedo-sized vibrator with room to spare.

The big breasts were next. I had to be careful with the placement. I eyeballed the position as best I could. When I finally held my phony bust in place, it felt right. I pressed them into place for a few minutes until I was sure they would hold. When I took my hands away, I checked my reflection in the mirror. The boobs were positioned perfectly, but I needed to work on the edges a little. The seams showed, particularly just below my neck. Although the long hair of my wig would help hide the seams, a little spirit gum and makeup would help immensely. The spirit gum would help smooth the edge between the thin latex layer and the skin it was resting on. I used the brush applicator to spread sticky goo along the thin edges of the latex skin. Then I blew on the edges hoping to make it dry a little quicker. Once dry, I used the tattoo cover makeup to help hide the seam. Then I applied powder. Finally, using the hairnet, I compressed the fine nylon mesh onto the powdered surface to add texture to the smooth latex.

When I searched for the seams in the mirror, I couldn't find any hint.

My D cup breasts looked magnificent! The aureoles were big and in the 'stimulated' position.

I went over to the closet. I took out the big sports bag that contained my Linda accoutrements.

I held up a transparent plastic bag that held Linda's blonde locks. That's right - blonde! I decided to go with a honey blonde, similar to my own natural color. The hair strands were long and gently curled. The bangs at the front gave my expression a playful aspect. The lady at the wig shop had called it the Cindy wig, named after model Cindy Crawford. Only she wasn't a blonde, but she had the style. With a smile, I recalled, at the shop on Princess Street, when I took off my auburn wig to try on the Cindy wig, the lady's jaw dropped in amazement. The human hair wig cost $295, but the look on her face was…precious!

When I placed the blonde wig on my head, I reached under the hair and tugged at the elastic tabs of the wig cap to position it properly. I brushed the silky strands out a little to give the 'do more body.

The long lustrous blonde tresses complemented my high cheekbones, a cute upturned nose, soft sensual hungry lips, a baby soft perfect complexion, long curled eyelashes and eyes the color and depth of a clear blue summer sky.

One final touch up - I dabbed some gloss onto my lips. Then I pressed my upper and lower lips together. Those kissable pouting lips looked so inviting!

Fabulous! Quite amazing!

A 40D-25-37 supermodel on a six-foot 149 pound frame.

Irresistible eye arresting cleavage, a trim svelte waist, nicely flaring hips, soft eminently squeezable buns, a heart shaped tuft pointing to the glory mound at the apex of long curvaceous legs - these perfect features completed the dream body.

Then I stood before the mirror and basked in my naked glory. Hot Damn! I looked like one of those gorgeous strippers at the Hook and Ladder!

Cindy Crawford and Linda Evangelista, eat your hearts out! I could pose for Victoria's Secret!

As I stood before the mirror, I started to think of the possibilities. The tits and clit looked so realistic. Maybe, just maybe...nah, I'd never get away with it. But, then again, I never thought I could be a cocktail waitress either.

 

10

Saturday night at the Hook and Ladder.

Over the speaker system, there was a tapping or knocking sound. The announcer, Mark, blew on the microphone once and said, "Test...test, testicular test."

There was a mild ripple of laughter in the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Hook and Ladder is proud to be to bring to the stage a new dancer. This beauty not only has a great body, she's got brains too. All the way from down the street at Queen's University, please put your hands together and welcome Luscious Linda Loveless!"

There were a few snickers from the gents at the hokey introduction and the humdrum moniker, and I kinda liked it.

Shania Twain's Man I Feel Like a Woman blared out over the sound system.

Dressed in an eye-popping red sequined gown, opera length silver gloves on silver stiletto heels, and I white feather boa, I was a step up in class from the other strippers.

I sashayed to mid stage of the T layout and took a right angle turn onto the catwalk, working the bump and grind of the hips into my catlike strut down the narrow walkway.

Giving the crowd a good look at my dazzling outfit, I tossed my head dramatically as I reached the end of the catwalk. The blonde tresses tumbled over my shoulders and I turned back toward the main stage. The stupefied gazes were affirmation of my dazzling beauty.

"No inhibitions, make no conditions
Get a little outta line
I ain't gonna act politically correct
I only wanna have a good time."

I sashayed back down the catwalk, smiling at some of the faces in the front rows.

Then stopping at mid-stage, I reached up to my mouth with my left hand. I bit into the end of the middle finger of my long silver glove. I slowly, suggestively, tantalizingly, tugged on the glove. It slid slowly down my arm. Then I reached for it with my right hand and slipped the glove completely off.

I whirled the glove above my head like a lasso. Spotting a young stud in the front row, I flung the glove toward him. It landed right on his lap. I gazed at him face for a moment, then down to his crotch where the glove had landed, then I smiled at him, hoping he'd be enthralled enough to give me a big tip later.

Eye contact was important. The guys in the crowd wanted to be noticed. They wanted to believe I would talk to them later, maybe even go out with them later, or have sex with them later. 'Well, see you later, sperminator!'

What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

I resumed my walk across the stage, bumping and grinding as I went to stage right, then turned and strutted back to mid stage. At this point, while I moved cat-like across to stage left, I reached my hand up to my mouth and started to remove the other silver glove. By the time I reached the opposite side of the stage, I was twirling the glove high above my head. But then I let it hang down the front. The fingers of the glove appeared to caress the crotch. I moved the fingers up and down, suggesting a little masturbatory delight.

Then I smiled to the crowd and started twirling the glove around again as I walked back to mid stage. The mirrored backdrop of the stage caught the stripper cowgirl in action!

Here I simply looked toward the chair located there. I flung the long glove toward the top rung of the chair at mid stage. The silver arm wrapped itself around the top crosspiece of the chair bolo style!

Shania Twain's voice twanged:

"Oh, go totally crazy, forget I'm a lady
Men's shirts, short skirts
Oh, really go wild,
Yeah doing it in style
Oh, get in the action
Feel the attraction
Color my hair - do what I dare
Oh, oh, oh, I wanna be free,
Yeah, to feel the way I feel
Man! I feel like a woman!"

Now when I prowled the catwalk, I removed the feather boa. I playfully flicked the end of the boa toward some of the guys in the front row. Someone reached up to try and grab it, but I quickly snapped it back and kept moving. It became a little game as I snapped it in the direction of one of the guys. He'd stand up to reach for it, then I'd pull it back.

Then one of the guys did grab the proffered boa.

I stopped and gave him an enticing look.

I knelt down and got 'up close and personal' with him.

There was an ear-to-ear grin on his face. I circled the boa around his head, I pulled him toward me and mouthed the words "I love you" to him. Then I stood, turned and walked away, the boa trailing behind me. He reluctantly let go. Then I flicked the boa onto the chair as well.

I reached up to the back of my neck and undid a clasp of the red sequined gown. Then I took two steps forward and stopped. I moved my right shoulder forward, shrugged and the gown slipped down. Then I whirled around, letting the dress fall off the other shoulder. All of a sudden, the whole gown fell to the floor in a red sequined puddle at my feet.

There I stood in a black bra, thong, garter belt and stockings!

That opened a few eyes.

There were more than a few hands up in the front rows, waving around bills.

As Man I Feel Like a Woman ended, I snatched up the offerings. Then the song Pussy, by a group called the Lords of Acid, started up.

Kick-ball change, kick-ball step, shimmy and shake, twist and prance, shake and quake, whirl and dance. It was all frenetic kinetic bliss!

I traipsed down the runway, stopped, knelt down and let the guys stuff the bills into my bra or under my thong.

Most guys preferred to reach for the bra with one hand and stuff the bill into the bra with the other. It gave them a not so subtle feel of my tits.

Only a few bold ones reached for the thong.

The Lords of Acid sang:

"I wanna see your pussy
Everybody says it's nice
Can I come and visit?
I'll be at your house tonight.
They tell me it's soft to touch and really smooth
I can hardly wait to feel that pussy too."

I sat down on the chair. I removed all the money from my bra and thong and placed the cash on the chair with my gown.

Then I lovingly caressed my leg as I started to undo the garter attachments holding up my stockings. Slowly I peeled away the garters and then I slipped off the stockings. Next I stood, holding one end of the stocking with one hand at the front and pulling the other end of the stocking through my legs behind me. Then, in masturbatory fashion, I moved the stocking up and down suggestively. I stroked and stroked repeatedly. I thrust my hips forward and back repeatedly. Then I feigned a look of orgasmic bliss on my face.

After that I slowly licked my fingertips as if I had residual goo on them.

In similar fashion, I removed the other stocking. This time, however, I moved forward to a guy in the front row. Holding both ends of the stocking, I wrapped it around his neck and tied it together as he stuffed a $10 donation into my thong.

"You wanna play with pussy all the time
To hide that kind of pussy is a crime
You say your pussy's clever and so slick
But I think your pussy's kind of sick…"

Now all I had left were my bra and thong.

It was about at that moment I started having self-doubts about my false breasts and plastic pussy. Would anyone suspect they were fake?

I strutted over to the pole in the middle of the catwalk.

I grabbed onto the vertical rod with one hand and whirled around it.

Next, I wrapped my legs around it, and pretended I was a guy for a moment, with the world's biggest erection. I leaned back and pretended to stroke my phantom cock, pumping it for all it was worth.

Then I strutted down the catwalk again, stopping here and there for more donations from the fans, kissing the really cute ones on the cheek, hoping that would get even more money flowing forth.

One thing I realized was that I really had trouble seeing anyone beyond the first two rows. The dazzling lighting blinded me to all but the people I could see at my feet.

Time for the acrobatic phase of the dance. Remembering Patricia's/Cameron's fall from grace and the embarrassing consequences, I was a little apprehensive. Back on the full stage, I took a few quick steps, and launched into a cartwheel. Then I ran up the catwalk, and jumped high up the pole, grabbing it as high up the pillar as I could manage. Wrapping my legs around the metal cylinder, I shimmied up it higher and higher. Then I grabbed firm hold of the pole at my chest, swung my head down, and went into inverted position. Then I inch-wormed my way down, into a handstand, and stepped backward out of the inverted position as if I just completed a reverse cartwheel. Then I spread my legs apart, and fell onto to the floor, ending with the splits!

The crowd hooted and hollered at that one!

Momentarily, I was out of breath. My fake tits heaved.

Although I had been putting off the moment of truth, it was inevitable.

I reached up to the front of my top, undid the clasp, then dramatically revealed the magnificent D cups I had bought and paid for.

The headlights seemed to catch the eyes of the stags in their glare.

All right, in a day and age of breast implants, my breasts weren't overly big, but they had a perfect shape! Like an artist had carved them! And they very well might have been.

I shook my D cup knockers. I pranced and danced up and down the catwalk, a knock knock knocking on everyone's door.

I loved the dancing, the performing, the attention, and the adoration!

There were more outreached hands, offering bills. There was only one place for them to go. Into my thong. Down to my crotch. One gutsy guy - an absolute pig - had the audacity to feel my tempting twat. I quickly pulled away.

"Naughty! Naughty!" I shook my head.

"I want to bet your pussy ain't as pretty as mine
I don't hide my pussy like you do all the time
My pussy's just the sweetest thing you've ever seen
Compared to mine your pussy's really ugly and mean."

Next, I undid the attachment of my thong, the last remaining item of clothing.

When I snatched my thong away, I was hoping for an audible gasp. But, this audience had seen it all before.

Nevertheless, I wasn't sure that they had seen an impersonator wearing a counterfeit clit before.

There was a very cute guy there with a completely enthralled look on his face. I knelt down, I picked up his empty beer bottle. I held the bottle opening up to my superfantastic plastic pussy lips and then moved it slowly in and out. Then I did the usual hip thrusts and gyrations simulating intercourse that most strippers do.

One of the eager beavers immediately whipped out a twenty! I squatted down, with my buns directly above Queen Elizabeth's face on the $20 bill, squeezed my ass cheeks together and lifted the currency from the guy's fingers.

There were a lot of catcalls and cheers!

Then I turned to the other side of the catwalk to the person in the front row that I had given my long silver glove to earlier.

He gladly gave it back to me.

Then holding one end of the glove at my crotch and the other end out-stretched like it was a huge hard-on, I invited the guy to pretend he was whacking himself off.

He moved his hands up and down in wanking motion, and the crowd laughed and laughed.

I kissed him smack dab on the lips, appreciative of his cooperation.

I knew he wanted me. Hell! All the guys in the crowd wanted me!

"I wanna see your pussy, show it to me
Let me see your pussy, show it to me
Show me your pussy, show it to me
I want to see your pussy, show it to me."

From backstage, someone threw out a huge orange and black Garfield doll! The furry stuffed animal must've been three feet tall! It landed right at my feet. Well, not being one to turn down an opportunity, I improvised. I picked up lovable Garfield and gave him a huge hug. Of course, I couldn't resist doing a little more with the clever cat. I caressed and petted him. I stroked his tail. Then I licked his underside. The way cats clean themselves. Finally, I held Garfield's whiskered face up to my plastic pussy.

The crowd went bananas!

I waved to the crowd, blew kisses to them, and gathered up my clothing from my chair.

There were so many enthusiastic hoots and hollers, thunderous applause and I loved them all for their fantastic support!

If applause was a narcotic, I was on Ecstasy!

 

10

I was certain anybody who read this account was probably thinking all of this Stripperella stuff was just too good to be true. A student by day, a stripper at night. And they'd be partly right. I didn't last too long as a house stripper at the Hook and Ladder. I only pursued it through the summer months before going back to school full-time.

Nell Fenwick and the Full Mounty would have to wait. Unless I transferred to McGill.

I never did make it beyond the audition stage for the role of Mary Sunshine in Chicago. I was no coloratura soprano.

Also, in a perfect make-believe world, the male protagonist always ended up with the girl. However, Allison and I never got to live happily ever after.

That dirty rotten scoundrel Studlater, unbeknownst to me, had somehow persuaded Allison that her boyfriend, William Hold'em Copperfield, had not been truly faithful to her.

And Allison couldn't stand to have her boyfriend be unfaithful to her.

Remember the final shift that I worked as a cocktail waitress at the Lad and Hooker Club? When Studlater drove me over to Gordon House, the student residence? He walked me up to the front door and kissed me goodnight. Remember I called it the mother of all goodnight kisses? And it really was a terrific kiss!

It was a complete setup.

Studlater told Allison that I was gay or bi. That cad, Eric Stradlater, claimed I was being unfaithful. Studlater said that he could prove it to her. All Allison had to do was show up at around 2:30 a.m. If she just watched the front door of her residence, he was confident that he could get Linda to kiss him goodnight. And, by the way we kissed, Studlater would prove that it was homosexual lust. That William, as Linda, had become a slut. It was the kinda thing that happened to girls who worked at a strip club. They were all like that.

And I had fallen for the bait. I had kissed Studlater goodnight. I demonstrated that I could be queer and unfaithful and undeserving of Allison's love.

Well, behind my back, Studlater and Allison started to go out on dates. And I've always said Studlater was a real charming guy. He had a way with the ladies - a real smooth operator. Before you knew it, Allison had fallen in love with that lothario Studlater again. What could I say? Studlater was good in bed. He knew it. I knew it. Allison knew it. Hell! Everyone knew it!

So Allison split up with me.

That made me really sad. It really hurt! An awful lot!

But, I got over it.

When I met Cameron Daze at the Hook and Ladder, watching the Full Mounty Revue, that marked the turning point.

Cameron quite liked my dual nature! She was bi anyway, so I satisfied both of her lusts.

Maybe it was my karma or fate or destiny. Whatever!

So that's how things stand at the moment. Just Cameron and me. Two blonde bombshells, looking for a place to explode.

THE END

  

  

  

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