Clap Hands, Here Comes Rachel

by Rachel

  

A Penchant for the Ladies

Raymond moved himself into his newly inherited condo on the posh Upper East Side. He had also completed his studies at The University and was starting his new job down at the brokerage house to maintain the family continuity. It had been a really good month and now he was looking to celebrate down on The Avenue where the reputation was that the ladies down there were amiable and willing to share their goodies with almost anyone. Raymond was looking to get his share of a lifetime's worth of experience.

He walked The Avenue, getting an immense charge out of just looking at the photos and posters of the near naked dancing girls in the adult book store and listening to the banter from the street barkers of the topless entertainers within. And above all, he maintained a degree of civility with his frequent encounters with the ladies of the night. It was all a new experience for Raymond and he shivered in the delight he was getting from it all.

It was a sudden summer storm which drove Raymond into the first open doorway where he heard from the uniformed doorman, "This is a private club, Sir, but if you would check with the cashier, he might get you a pass for the evening." Raymond got himself carded and paid the somewhat hefty cover charge before being buzzed through the doorway. The cashier immediately ran the ID with the prestigious address through the computer and spread the word to the all-powerful Big Sister organization that they might have a big fish ensnared in their net. The BSers ran a quick check to verify his name and address, his affluence, raised their eyebrows in unison at the results of their findings, and OK'd him for an unlimited credit line.

Inside The Club, the lights were flashing, the music was loud and raucous and there were dancers in G strings gyrating on the side stages along the wall. Two other dancers danced atop the bar playing to the patrons on the bar stools and aaaagh, Raymond could see that the dancers had no qualms about displaying their charms – displaying, my ass, they touched themselves in a suggestive manner and actually put themselves in a position where they invited being touched by the patrons. And oh my, they were indeed topless – even he, from a distance could clearly see their nipples. Nipples, nipples, you say, although the dancers all wore G strings, Raymond and the other front row patrons could see how readily the dancers displaced their only protection to show their fans the ultimate proof of their femininity. Raymond thought that a lot of that stuff was against the law. Sure, Raymond, sure.

So engrossed was he at the wanton display of femininity that he failed to notice the approach of the hostess, that is, until he felt the softness of her charms being pressed against him and heard the cooing, "Looking for some company tonight, honey?" She didn't bother waiting for a reply but used her body language to steer the novice Raymond to the end of the bar where he heard a gruff, "What'll you have, Raymond? And one for Vanessa? You new in town? First time in a joint like this?" The filled glasses appeared with practiced precision and the questions were purely rhetorical. He heard, "This first one is 'on the house' Raymond, we can run a bar tab for you if it will make it any easier for you." Raymond reveled in being able to play the role of the big spender and nodded his head, if for no other reason than just showing off for Vanessa.

He tried to look cool as he slid himself up on the bar stool. The experienced hostess added, "That's Darryl, the chief bartender and manager here, he can get you anything and anyone you want in the place." She leaned her back against the bar and nonchalantly placed her hand on Raymond's inner thigh, a move that sat Raymond bolt upright on the stool and sent an almost violent charge right down the full length of his spine. She sensed his uneasiness and leaned herself forward ostensibly to whisper into his ear, "Ooooh, I can see you like that," and gave him a meaningful squeeze with a laughing, "Relax, honey, relax." But Raymond was busy peering down the top of Van's hostess gown and aaaaagh, he could not only see the fullness of her breasts above her bodice but eeeee, he found himself looking straight down the full length of her cleavage, he thought, right down to her naval. She wasn't overly large as these things go but mark my words, Raymond wasn't complaining. It was the first time for Raymond and if it weren't for Vanessa's persistence, he would have bolted. But Vanessa was experienced and knew how to keep his attention. Hang in there, Raymond, way to go.

Vanessa moved him down to the far end of the bar where the dancers were performing their poles exercises. Raymond reveled in the looks he was getting from the other patrons and hostesses as they coursed down the length of the bar. He thought that she was clinging to him unnecessarily close but felt his hand being placed around her waist, waist my ass, it was precarious low to where he could feel every little twitch of her cheeks. The barmaid met them down at the pole end and refreshed their drinks. Raymond thought that perhaps the gyrations around the pole by the topless dancers was overly athletically as each dancer tried to put a new spin on what they could do that would be different than the previous dancers. He was quick to note that breasts differed not only in size but in shape as well but in the movements that the girls could get from them . And he winced each time one of the girls rotated their hips and thrust their pelvic area against the brass pole in simulation of performing the act, well actually, it was doing the usual bumps and grinds.

At another dancing station, the ladies were performing their floor exercises real close to the patrons, I mean really close to the point where some of the dancers even allowed a bit of touching in return for allowing the green to be tucked into their garters. Raymond participated in the festivities at Vanessa's urging, placing a Jackson on the bar as an enticement for the dancer. The topless dancer approached Raymond swinging her breasts with reckless abandon, picked up the Jackson and put it back into Raymond's hand. Vanessa whispered, "She likes you, Raymond, beckon her to kneel down and stuff it right down into her G string – I mean right down at the vee, honey. And do it like you've been there before." Raymond had had more than several drinks along the way and was particularly receptive to the suggestion. He established eye contact with the dancer and oh my, oh my, she was more than willing to show him where to put it. There were whistles and catcalls from the other bar patrons but again at Vanessa's urging, Raymond mustered up all his nerve and pulled the patch away to sneak a peak. Sneak a peak, my ass, the dancer sensed his timidness and whaaaa, he was looking right in to it as she just peeled the G string away. All Raymond could show was that s___-eating grin on his face.

Raymond continued on with his day job but attended The Club with regularity. And thus, over a period of time, he had experienced most of the pleasures that the girls could provide. He liked the friendly and enthusiastic approach that they used, particularly when they made him believe that most of the shenanigans were his idea.

It was Raymond's penchant for the ladies down at the topless joint that had gotten him mired in the deep doo. The word from the governing The Big Sisters organization was, "He's taken the bait, let's reel him in." Darryl gave Raymond the word, "They want you downtown to sign some papers. Strictly a formality, Raymond, it's for all The Club members." It was a stately blonde office aide who pushed the papers in front of him and replacing them with others just as quickly as he signed them. Raymond could only recall later that the office aide was blonde and smelled nice, really nice.

It was another one of the ladies on a following visit who passed the word to him, "Hi, I'm Patti, they tell me that you signed those papers without even knowing what it was you were getting in to. They own you now, they can do whatever they want with you, to you. Look at me. I was just out of The University, I was behind on my rent, I couldn't get a job and they had bought up my student loans. They leaned on me and I signed the papers. Now, I'm a hostess and they're training me to become a dancer where I can earn the big bucks for them. They'll give you a physical and some vocational counseling from whence they will establish a career path for you. All the training sessions I saw were female oriented – I don't know what that means for you though." Raymond sluffed it all off, what, indentured servants in this day and age, that's the same as slavery, come on, girl, get real.

But it did indeed come to pass. The mixed staff of technicians stripped him down and subjected him to a physical the likes of which he had never experienced before and which was not always conducted in a professional manner. They not only weighed and measured him in places where he had never before even been checked, they photographed him facial and full length, front and back, close ups of his personal parts and they took samples and specimens for the usual lab testings. At one mirrored room, they strapped him down on the examination table – oh, you know, the one with the braces for the knees and stirrups for the feet – the girls know all about that. Raymond shut his eyes to shut out the indignity but they knew how to poke and squeeze and stretch in order to keep him involved in the action. He could hear the laughing small talk down there and honey, you wouldn't believe what measurements they took down there. Not only that, they bounced the accessory sac as though checking it for heft and obviously verifying that there were indeed two of them in there. A female staff member with a somewhat gruff voice was sympathetic but could only offer, "Just doing our jobs, sir."

He spent one afternoon filling out various forms – the usual local address and telephone numbers, the same for his home and work addresses, DOB, nearest relatives, the whole bit, mostly stuff they could have gotten from his ID. And whereas he always thought that M/F meant checking one or the other, now he found himself looking at words like bi, hetero, homo and preferences and pursuasions, etc. And then there were the special interests defined as BD/SM, gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, kinky stuff, ya da, ya da, ya da. And following each grouping, there was always a space for 'other, explain.' And then they wanted him to write down the frequency of his experiences, what, you like to have it every night, once a week, what? There were references to TVism, TS, TG, CD, FI, M to F, F to M, stuff he hadn't even heard of before. And he was required to write a short essay on his true life experiences followed by what he would do differently if he had the opportunity.

The astute Raymond rationalized that they had to be thorough in order to check one answer against another but he found it difficult to recall just how he had answered those similar questions. That's like they'd sure like to catch him answering M at the top of the questionnaire and expressing his preference as lesbian later on. He got a chuckle out of that. He heard, "Don't make sport of anything as serious as that, Raymond, you check M or F on your own or they'll enter 'Other' and honey, that's when the fun starts.

The techers were somewhat surprised at his slight build. One said, "He's sort of narrow in the shoulders and a bit hippy for a skinny kid but has a short torso, long legs, nice legs for a male, don't you know." Another added, "He's got that boyish good looks and no adams apple and get this, his lab tests indicate that he might have hermaphroditic characteristics. That might account for why he is so small down there, not only the shaft but even the pellets are like they were miniatures." It was a female techer who added laughingly, "I got the entire assembly into the palm of my hand and was able to close my fist around it." Raymond would not have liked hearing that, no way. It was one of the senior techers who summed it up, "I can see him in the TiT program already. I'll give Darryl the word."

They passed the word to Darryl to keep giving him his 'on the house' drink to keep him loosened up with the ladies." And there was still another country heard from, "And make sure that he gets the full range of male experiences while he is still able to."

They let Raymond know of a slight chemical imbalance in his system and he appreciated being put on a corrective regimen of pills and a rigid diet. He was no longer treated as a first-timer and spent considerable time with the ladies at the back tables. He learned that rules dictated that he was to keep his hands atop the table whereas hostesses had no such restrictions. He was amazed at how deftly she undid his belt and waistband of his trousers using but one hand. He could still recall how his legs locked themselves in the straight out position the first time she manipulated it with her hands. He was never going to forget that first time. At other sessions, he learned to exercise a modicum of self-control which in turn gave him the opportunity to learn of the manual release. On other occasions, he sat in the alcoves with a series of other ladies who showed him the joys of the oral release. The ladies were good with their lips and teeth as they manipulated it to get him into the proper mood to gain the full experience. He learned that his nipples were a prime target of the girls. On many occasions, he had to grit his teeth to endure the associated pain as he learned that pain and pleasure were virtually inseparable. They almost all bit him, some while it was still soft and pliable, others had to bite much harder to leave a lasting impression on it. And he learned that his nipples were the early indicators of his condition, that with the proper encouragement, they could be brought to distend to become twice as long as they were in a resting condition and as thick around as his thumb. But they made him feel so good, so good and one heck of a lot better than doing it for himself.

The astute Raymond had long ago sensed that the waitresses appeared to refill his refreshment needs as though they were on a schedule. It was the same thing with his champagne order at the tables and especially in the public areas where the waitresses appeared to show up with scheduled regularity. He found it easy to nod his head to have the second or even a third bottle delivered – but damn, it made him feel like the big spender and the girls liked him for that. And although he never felt that he drank too much, it always left him with a buzz and always amenable to suggestions regardless of where it came from. At the end of the evening, there was always the barker who called a cab for him to take him back to the condo where the doorman would see that he pushed the proper buttons.

Raymond was encouraged by some of the hostesses to pursue his own needs with the ladies – you know, just so he would know what males like to do and what females likes to have done. It was always tit for tat and always for the purpose of enhancing his own experience level. And over the four months, he had practiced what had been done to him on them even though some of the practices were abhorrent to him. He practiced the same techniques on the ladies as they had on him during an earlier time, enjoying some of the experiences and like I said, he needed a lot more experience in a lot of other areas. The ladies rationalized the whole affair as 'that's what boys do, honey."

He spent time in the public areas which was reserved for couples only where they went to ostensibly watch the videos. Raymond learned early on that actually it was an area reserved for those who wanted to engage in whatever of their choosing. And oh boy, oh boy, Raymond found no will to resist the attack of the ladies who applied everything he had learned at the tables and alcoves at one time. He was constantly amazed at how quickly they could strip him down – oh sure, it was easy as long as he wasn't fighting them off. Towards the end of the sessions, Raymond was virtually exhausted and succumbed to all of their ministrations, never mindful that all of their antics were being taped. Raymond wasn't going to like that.

But in time, what with going to his day job and spending the rest of the time at The Club, the almost daily rituals with the ladies were beginning to wear on him – oh no, I don't mean he was wearing it out, it was just wearing him down. He thought that his ardor was waning, the sonbitch was even thinking perhaps he was spending too much time down at The Club. But The BSers had other plans for him, oh, did they have plans for Raymond.

The BSers and the tech staff conferred with the girls who had spent time with Raymond and heard, "He's such a pretty boy, it's just too bad that he wasn't born a girl." Again, "His body is a lot softer now than it was before. I don't feel his ribs as much as I used to and it seems like all of his body hair has disappeared – that is, except under his arms and down you know where." "I love being able to grasp a handful of his breast flesh and squeezing it up into that delectable cone shape. It gives added prominence to his already large and sensitive nipples." It was the third girl who added, "I do believe he is shrinking down there where it should be getting bigger. Not only that, I think the entire assembly is sort of retreating into his body." The techers took copious notes and scheduled Raymond for another physical.

The word was, "Raymond's ready. We're going to allow him to continue his day job until he makes his own decision to quit. By then, we'll have him in the on-the-job training phase of the TiT program and start him into the PIS sessions. What is happening is that the 'on the house' drink included the pills which not only made him amenable but worked to stifle the output from those pesky testes of his so that the female hormones could begin to take their rightful place in his body. And it's working according to plan, just a little faster than we had planned. But that's OK. We'll have to double him up in the physical conditioning classes along with the other trainees. Yeah, he'll be ready, they'll run him through the PIS sessions and pretty quick he'll change his thinking process and he'll be loving it.

The sonbitch will be begging to be allowed to be just like one of the girls.

  

  

  

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