Clap Hands, Here Comes Rachel

by Rachel

  

Of Buns, Sun and Fun (Chapter III)

As a part-time TiT (that's Transvestite in Training if you've already forgotten), Raymond was commuting, so to speak, between his condo and the topless joint. They were going to first give him all the male experiences he could handle in a very short time, the teaching theory being that he would have to experience what it was that girls did for the boys and vice versa. And unbeknownst to him, they had started the regimen of pills which would diminish the output from those pesky testes of his and allow the hormones to establish themselves better. (Oh, you remember, Raymond had that H factor which at a much earlier age would have allowed him to become one or the other but they let it go too long and he became Raymond. But not to worry, not to worry, The BSers knew how to do the boy to girl thing for fun and profit, their profit, don't you know.

But things were moving along too fast for even The BSers. Raymond was beginning to outwardly show the effects of the various treatments which would severely cramp his style on his day job, like man, the plucked eyebrows weren't a really big problem, neither were the pierced ear lobes with the studs in them. The developing boobs were no big thing at first but with the passing of time, the techers put him into a training bra in order to insure that they would develop with the proper firmness and forward projection. But again, not to worry, The BSers had the PIS sessions (Oh, you forgot PIS, that's the Psyche Inversion Sessions which worked to alter his thinking from that of the male to female, honey, there's more to a transvestite than just looking the part, he has to think like a female, act like a female, perform like a female, you know what I'm sayin'?)

And it was having the expected results on Raymond's psyche. In those unguarded moments, he found himself assuming an obviously feminine stance complete with the limp wrist and from time to time, he found it necessary to adjust the shoulder straps of his bra. But damn it all, if he stood tall, even with his coat jacket on, he found that his breasts became very prominent. And they had PISsed him to ignore his shrinking boys and the sonbitch took pride in being able to wear those elasticized panties designed to be worn under the tight fitting slacks as 'no panty lines showing' in lieu of a gaff. And to top it off, he was wearing matching bikini panties. And even on his own, Raymond found himself yearning to be able to wear those more exotic pieces of underwear like the teddies and baby dolls. And he was sleeping in a shortie nightie and was looking for feminine help in acquiring still more lingerie.

But they were letting him have the full male experience down at the topless joint before they did their thing on him. The girls passed the word amongst themselves that it was small but could be activated through his nipples which were of goodly size and much more sensitive than the other place. Gads, they had PISsed him to accept the concept that smaller was better in this regard. And over the course of some four months on the pills and that special diet, his facial contours and bodily configuration had smoothed out and he was losing the angular look of the male, his bodily hair pattern had changed and his cheeks were approximating the shape of, liken it to twin volley balls.

But not to worry, they convinced him to admit to himself that he wasn't going to need them so he allowed them to tuck the whole assembly down between his legs and covered it over with an adhesive- backed vinyl patch that they called The Kitty. What is it that, you say? I thought I covered that pretty thoroughly in a previous chapter. And the silly sonbitch had learned to accept it as an adjunct to becoming one of the girls.

In a very short time frame, with the sessions at the beauty salon and the costuming boutique, now Raymond had the essentials to visually pull it off as a TV, oh, you know, he had the KAT's. Come on now, folks, he had the K and the A and the T's and that spells KAT and that makes for Kitty, Ass and Tits – I hope I don't have to spell everything else out for you. Thank you, much.

Van and Sam were sympathetic, "They're throwing the blocks to you, Raymond, they said that you did exceptionally well in your class work, now they want to put you out in the field where you will be under immense pressure to conduct yourself as a female. It will also be a test for the techers since it will be the first time that The Kitty is going public. They think you are ready and what they think is what we think. He knew he was not long as a commuter TiT – damn, there was no way that he could conceal his developing boobs.

Meanwhile, back at the condo, with what little spare time he had, Raymond was viewing the photos in a portfolio, "Study these photographs diligently, Raymond, and be able to assume the identical poses. They will check your progress at the PIS sessions and give you more helpful hints than you thought you ever needed. Pay particular attention to the facial expressions of the model, the hand and finger positioning and feet placement."

Raymond viewed the photos in the portfolio, a few of them he recognized as the same photos as those seen in the 'shopping catalogs on the Internet as lounging lingerie, specialty underwear, mini-dresses and the like.' He thought that the catalog photographs he viewed by accessing the Storysite sponsor site were absolutely gorgeous from the standpoint of the models and the products. Raymond just loved nipples and thought that there was a bit of air-brushing going on but he understood why it was necessary. He also spotted high fashion shots from the major publications as well as promotional shots of the featured dancers on The Avenue. He applied himself diligently. He found some of the poses uncomfortable to sustain but appreciated the finished results as seen from the camera's eye view. The facial expressions were much more difficult to maintain but as they discussed in the PIS sessions, the model was expected to convey a mood, so very important to the selling of the product (you do remember that The BSers were in the business of marketing girls and if that meant getting right to the down and dirty, so be it). They brought in models to demonstrate some of the more difficult poses and the effect that little things like positioning the feet and toes had on the entire body. They let the trainees know that the those selected for the modeling assignments stood to gain a large following not to mention the credits that would accrue in their accounts. The BSers really knew how to pump up the trainees.

They started slowly enough, taking the instant photos to give the trainees a quick look at what they were striving for. Raymond really appreciated the high status of the models as the directors gave their instructions. He thought that some of the male directors overly used their hands to give instructions but learned to give a grin in appreciation. Although many of the directors were male, there were female directors, or at the least, directors who looks to be female and it was difficult to tell who, that is male or female, were the more demanding and who were the most disrespectful of the model's privacy. But at the conclusion of each shooting sequence, he gave the director, whoever it was, a meaningful hug and a small buss on the cheek. He hadn't counted on it but in return, sometimes he got a pat on the ass.

The costume changes were frequent. He thought that he had been selected for the lingerie group as he modeled numerous bra and panty sets, teddies, baby dolls and the like whereas the other girls were photographed in full length gowns, chemises and the like. But he found out that they all rotated in the various products and that he too participated in modeling the more glamorous of the dresses. In the end, after three days of shooting, he had learned the ins and outs of the modeling business, so to speak. The directors told her, "Sure, when you're modeling those near transparent garments, we like to show that they are see-through. I like for the models to let their nipples show through real natural-like just like I like to show the cleft of the thighs when appropriate. If it comes out a bit over-done, we can air-brush it to tone it down – it's a lot better than to have you come in for a re-shoot." Sure, Raymond mused, sure.

Raymond learned that modeling was not just a one or two day job. It was virtually a full time effort, what with the three days on, one day off followed by another three days of shooting.

It was Patti who appeared out of nowhere with, "I saw some of the publicity shots that they took of you, you look so glamorous in that dance outfit. And your figure photographs so beautifully, I think they are getting ready to put you on the circuit. Oh, and I heard that you have been selected as one of the models who will be posing over the next three days. Nothing to concern yourself about, the poses will be about the same as the first three days and you pretty much know how the directors work. Just don't get any of them upset with you, it can ruin your whole day. Put yourself in a position where it would be easy for them to pat your ass and let them know how much you appreciate being there and how much fun you are having. Oh, by the way, did I mention that they will be posing you in the altogethers in the very same poses that you assumed earlier. The most you will be wearing will be make-up, some jewelry if appropriate and a facial expression. Think about it, honey, it will be all you, honey, just listen to the directors and you will be fine."

Raymond emitted a shrill, "Aaaeeeee," they had done it to him again and it was Patti who was the messenger. Just when he thought that things had turned the corner, this had to happen. Patti casually added, "Oh, honey, I thought you volunteered yourself for this effort. Besides, like I said, you've got a really nice body, honey, it's better to have them photograph you now before you begin to show the wear and tear or worse yet, you might not like the tattoo they put on you or the message it conveys, if you're lucky, it will only read something like 'Property of ______'. You can spend a life time explaining how you got the tattoo every time you take off your clothes, you know what I'm sayin'? Most of the time, they put their mark on you where the casual viewer is not going to see it but then again, when you get into position to do your thing, that's when it comes into view, you know what I'm sayin'? You don't know what a turn-off seeing that mark down there where the sun never shines. Again, The BSers are apt to lease you out to some Mistress who will whip your ass in one of her shows and honey, those cheeks will never be the same again. If I were you, I'd let them take their photos and sign the papers that will give them the right to use it however and wherever they choose. It might get you some nice publicity where you really don't want your picture appearing but if you got it, flaunt it. Go with the flow, honey, go with what The BSers want you to be. Why, it might just make you famous some day." Thanks a lot, Patti, thanks a bunch.

Raymond could feel the repugnance as he laid himself back on the shooting stage. It was exactly as Patti had stated, he was in the altogethers. He allowed the director to support his back as the stage hands placed pillows in strategic places which would put a sort of a natural arch to his back – oh, damn, you know what that does for your boobies. The director took special pains to place his thighs just so – just open enough and angled to the camera to show The Kitty in its proper perspective. He took special pains to define the mood he wanted her to project with her facial expression and sort of toyed with her nipples, "I want these to be standing up a bit and colored up naturally, do you think you can do that for me?" And as the last step in the posing, Raymond found himself extending his arms high over his head and aaaaaagh, he watched how tautly his breasts had stretched against his chest leaving just barely discernible mounds atop which projected his fully distended titties. But the director liked that and gave her the facial expression he wanted. Raymond worked at it but damn, that's hard to do.

Raymond could do nothing as he watched the camera men and lighting technicians moving their equipment into position, He heard the whole series of instructions, "Point your toes downwards, please, keep those arms raised, elbows back, relax the fingers." He felt the angle of his head being moved slightly towards the camera and a tweak on a nipple as he heard, "Now, give me a neutral expression, look right into the camera, and hold it." And Raymond knew he had been recorded perhaps five/six times for history. He relaxed and waited for more shots of him in slightly altered positions. He didn't know how many different ways there was to recline. Then there were the sitting positions, full-length standing, full frontal views, side views, long shots, tight shots, provocative looks, suggestive poses, he didn't think there could be any more variations. He then forced a grin as he faced an array of hand held cameras as he fumbled around looking for his cover up gown and accommodated the "Just one more facing this way, please." He heard the director, "You done good, baby. You know what to do with that body of yours. I'm going to make arrangements to have you included in our mixed doubles shoot coming up next week. You'll like that, you know, posing together with the boys – well, then again, maybe not. I don't shoot porn myself but I have a friend who would love to have you perform for him. I know he has an orgy video coming up within the month. Yes, I'll put in a good word for you. And your name is Raymond? Lovely, lovely."

Raymond maintained his cool as he stepped into some bedroom mules and posed in the exact poses that he had assumed for the full-length dressing gown photo during the first three days. He had learned to endure and followed the instructions implicitly. Oh, how tired he was of hearing, "Open out your thighs, just a bit, tilt your hips upwards, good, good. Give me a small smile, now, a laughing smile, good, good." And then it was the same with the cameras wielded by the fees paying guests. Oh honey, you'd think by this time he'd have gotten used to it. He posed with his arms raised on high to add tightness to his breasts, he posed with one leg atop a prop, he posed in still other poses which he knew was intended to show him off. But by that time, you would have thought that he would be used to posing in the altogethers. As a matter of fact, honey, you never get used to it, you learn to live with it but you never get used to it, posing in the nude, that is.

The director was very complimentary but Raymond couldn't get past thinking that he had a thing for his ass the way he like patting and molding it. Been there. Done dat.

I was an owned slave and suspected nothing since they always had cameras and video equipment mounted and at the ready. Mistress and I retreated to the back room to get ourselves dressed and apply make-up. She casually mentioned, "Rachel, put the make-up on a little bit heavier and with a theatrical flair. They will be taking photos of you and I want you to look your very best. When I was done, she checked me out and supplemented my make-up application application, she pointed to the bright red, full-length cover-up gown. She spoke quietly, "Put it on, no underwear tonight, step into those mules and let me have a look at you under the lights." It was a routine that I was quite familiar with but she picked up my spirits with, "You look really pretty, Rachel, you've got the gown on but it doesn't really hide anything. You just don't want to stand too close to the lights because it makes the gown virtually invisible. But then again, our guests will love that."

I recognized one of the guests as being a party regular but the four others were new to me. They had all paid some big bucks to be included as observers for the photo shoot. The professional photographers had mounted their cameras on tripods which had wheels and the entire shooting area was bathed in a shadowless lighting scheme. Mistress was dressed in a black negligee which revealed much more of her than I'd like for her to reveal but then again, that was her appeal. She was a 36 CC which made my B cups look absolutely malish (that's like a male, don't look it up though, I just made it up.) She knew how to sit gracefully and reveal as much of herself as she chose. I marveled at how readily she assumed a photographic posture and how she moved from one position to another with grace. They took several pictures of her but I knew that it was just routine shots.

I knew when it was my turn to be included by her finger movements. I moved in quickly and knelt at her feet. Knelt was just a kindly word. By her instructions, I sort of cuddled myself down and eased myself in between her thighs. I had been there often because that's where I knelt when she played with my nipples. Oh, how I loved that and she knew it and used that to get me to agree to do something that she knew I didn't relish doing. But she could get me to agree with anything but I was really happy that it was something between Mistress and I. She confided in me that they were looking for models for another photo shoot which would include other models some of whom would be males. But she cajoled me and I found myself agreeing although I detested having males around when I was dressed en femme.

But now on the shooting stage, Mistress opened out her gown to reveal a goodly portion of her shapely legs, all the way up to where it counted, I might mention. She exercised her authority over me and pulled my gown down off my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around my mid-section while she sort of lifted my breasts out and draped the gown to gracefully flow over my arms. I could see her getting instructions from the director and I could feel her responding by nudging my arms to give a little more support to my breasts – you know, make a smaller boobie look a little more meatier. The director moved in and tugged my nipples into a better position and I began to hear the clicking and I automatically sat up a bit straighter. I heard, "Neutral expression." There was no flash, the overall set lighting insured that there would be no shadows to obscure any details. I didn't dare look up from my position to get a view of my Mistress but when that particular shooting sequence was over, I glanced upwards and she was already closing her gown. She gave me a smile and patted me on the cheek with a laughing, "You'll get your turn in good time, honey."

We shot several other sequences and the shooting staff were all pros, at least, they conducted themselves as though they had seen it all before, you know what I'm sayin'? I still cringe at some of the shots that they took of me doing the Mistress. Oh sure, you'd have liked to have been in my place but once they have a facial shot of you doing something, you never knew when you would get a phone call to serve as a model somewhere, sometime.

For their final sequence of shots, Mistress took a lounging position atop a platform, as it turned out, it was a coffin which they used as a prop in some of their scenes. I took a kneeling position down around her knees but even before I could get settled, the director moved in and adjusted my gown so that a little more of me would be showing. He spoke curtly, "I want to see an expression on your face like it was the first time you were doing that. I want enthusiasm. I want to see the effort on your face." And before I knew it, Mistress called out rather sharply, "Put your tongue on it, Raymond." Hells bells, I was new at this but I knew the sound of authority in Mistress's voice. When I straightened myself out and looked down, there it was – oh sure, I had seen it before but seeing it before and putting my tongue on it is not the same thing, I kid you not. Mistress had placed her legs into a scissor position and oh honey, I just wasn't ready for that. But it was one of those things that I had learned that any hesitation could have dire consequences. And I wasn't about to let myself get to the dire. So I just moved my head downwards and did as the director had stated. Damn, I didn't have any experience in this sort of thing but my first reaction was that the side position and the way Mistress lifted one leg gave the cameras the best opportunity to shoot from multiple directions without my head getting in the way – whatever it was that was most important to them.

I projected my tongue and was on my way down when I heard the first of the clicks. Oh damn, you just have to put it out of your mind and follow the directions, damn, it was one of those things that if you stopped to think about it, you might chicken out and that could have been a fatal faux pas. Actually, it was something a good slave would have only dreamed about but we hadn't practiced it before and I was new to all this. I could hear the instructions coming directly from the Mistress, when to lave up and down, when to point the tongue, when to raise my head to allow them to get a good facial shot of me doing it, and finally, a shot of me looking right up into Mistress's face and another in which she was giving me a full open mouth kiss. I could tell it was all right because she had her hand on the back of my head to hold me steady and she was sort of imparting a massaging action to her hand. She wouldn't have done it if I hadn't done well, would she? You can bet your sweet biffy she would have, she could just as easily reached for that infernal riding crop instead and believe me, I wasn't looking to feel that on my bare ass. Been there, done dat.

I had to change quickly into my maid's outfit to serve refreshments to the group. Most of the guests were experienced enough to not look directly into my face but in most of the faces, I could see envy while one projected revulsion. It was a thong type panty that I wore with the maid's outfit which exploited my other attributes to the maximum, that really means that my ass cheeks were always hanging out. Mistress had changed into satin lounging pajamas which she could open out as the situation required. When she was in the room, attention centered on her and I could go on about my business. On a bad day, I could expect Mistress to give me the orders to 'share the wealth, honey,' which meant give the boys a treat which meant that I had to act like the waitresses at The Club – oh, you know, give them time to sneak a peak down the front of the uniform or pause long enough to have my cheeks massaged. To which I inwardly muttered, "Ha, but I was up in there and you can only wish you were and you'll never get there."

I saw the shots a week later and from a photographic standpoint, they showed the professionalism of the shooting crew. The photos were sharp and detailed, well-lit and sonbitch, showed who the participants were and what they contributed to the activity. Even with my make-up on, I could tell it was me, but then again, I kept hoping that a casual observer who saw me under different circumstances would not know it was me. But then word gets around quick in the scene so I guess it was only wishful thinking on my part. Actually, Patti told me later that most of the Mistresses used their slaves for just such purposes and reminded me of that male slave who had to perform with his Mistress to do shows. And even Patti agree, "Now, that's degrading." It was a couple of months later that I did indeed see shots from that shooting but it was buried amongst a series of like shots for which I was appreciative. Nobody, other than our own group, even mentioned it so I knew I was in the clear for a while. Mistress let me keep a set for myself but the longer I had it, the more worrisome having it around became. Disposing of them became a long-termed project, one by one, I cut them up into itty bitty pieces until six months later, I was down to my last one, my favorite one. But I knew I had to so I cut that one up. But there was always a worry, besides, there was always Patti reminding me, "I don't know why you went to all that trouble. Don't you know that there are copies of that photo shoot on the computer and anyone who so wishes can pull it up and look at it whenever. I just wonder whether they gave you credit by name as being Mistress's slave. (I never made it to the internet but I did make it to the scene publications which I won't name). Patti always managed to get the last word in, "I heard that the camera crew liked the way you photographed and was thinking of having you participate in their next video. Oh, you're so lucky to be moving up the ladder so fast. Yep, they use more boys than girls in the videos and you'll probably have to fall back on your early experiences at The Club, you know, what boys want from the girls and what girls do to the boys." Geez, talk about a kill joy. But we digress. Like I said, been there, done dat.

The BSers conferred amongst themselves, "We've got to move pretty quickly with that Raymond thing. He's done well with his training and the physical development has progressed well beyond the point of no return. And the techers have come up with the second version of the new and improved Kitty in which they've used a breathable vinyl which will let him wear it for longer periods of time. It also has thinner edges so that blending it into his crotch is so vastly improved that whereas the earlier version was safe for observation from three feet, the new and improved version The Kitty II can stand almost point blank scrutiny. Cooool.

The BSers continued with, "From what we can see from here, Raymond is ready for the TIT program. Let's put Sam and Van on the Pinetree Ranch team with Raymond serving as the contestant escort. The photo team likes his cooperative attitude, now, let's see what his peers have to say. We'll send out a field testing team to evaluate how well he adapts to new situations. At the very least, the experience will give Raymond a lot of exposure, heh, heh, heh.

It was Patti who filled him in on the details. "Great, sure, if you like that sort of stuff. But you've got nice legs, a really delightful ass and you look just like me between you legs. (Patti didn't know about the new and improved Kitty II but that's a no never mind. She'd find out soon enough just as soon as she saw some of the photos). Your titties aren't going to be a match for some of the big bazooms that you'll see there but if you keep yours hanging out and give the right boys the right look at the right time, you just might end up with the 'friendliest' or 'most congenial' award. You'll have to wear the official escort tee, oh, a G string perhaps . . . Patti was talking a blue streak but Raymond wasn't learning a thing. Oh, maybe a little but not a lot.

It was a spacious, country club setting complete with swimming pool, a covered pavilion, tennis and volley balls courts and the like. An area adjacent to the pool had been set apart to be used as a stage for the show. Separate platforms rimmed the perimeter of the chest high chain link fenced in area and Raymond likened it to the side stages at The Club, close enough so that the gallery could reach out and touch the performers, but by rule, you couldn't, but close enough that you could see what it was you came to see. Photographers were free to roam within the fenced area. And even as he was studying the facilities, he could see at a single glance a number of near naked females just ambling about and making small talk with the early arrivals. Oh sure, there were several males in the mix but naked males really didn't do a thing for Raymond. In fact, he saw in them the same thing he saw in himself which drove him into that TV thing, you know what I'm sayin'? But he heard, "Come on, Raymond, quit your gawking and let's get over to registration and get ourselves dressed."

As a participant, the trio shared one of the numerous cottages which rimmed the fenced area to use as a dressing room. Raymond reveled in the informality of the other girls and sonbitch, they spent a lot of time just checking each other out. But Van and Sam made sure that Raymond never forgot what he had come for. Raymond hastily pulled the tee on to avoid unnecessary exposure. He studied his shape in the mirror and nodded his approval as he saw that his boobies were projecting properly. And all of a sudden, he heard the laughing amongst his new colleagues, "Raymond! What, you a first timer here. Where do you think you are? What do you think you are here for. What it is is that you take off all your clothes, put on the G string and the tee and that's it. A little later in the day, you may have to do without the top because somebody just might offer you a big buck for it. Same thing with the G string. Just sort of roll with it."

Raymond was no dope. Van and Sam were dressed as stated – the tees were cut extra long to sort of cover the essentials but from any vantage point, honey, one could readily see who was wearing a G string and who wasn't. And although Raymond had seen them more than once in their altogethers, it always gave him an extra thrill to see them in an informal setting with their tight little asses in full view. At least he knew that a little of the output from his pesky testes through.

One of his new colleagues volunteered, "I'm Tricia. I dance at a gentlemen's club up the road hereabouts. They sent a half dozen of us to get some publicity for them. I was watching you while you dressed for the second time. You really have a nicely rounded ass, honey. How about you and I go out on the porch here and check out the gallery. Raymond had learned to check out the ladies with a single glance without appearing to be staring. Tricia had a gorgeous face and a body commensurate with her profession. She wore a simple theatrical bra and a matching G string, oh, you know what I mean, which left almost all of her exposed. But that was the name of the game, don't you know. Raymond knew that Tricia would be a formidable competition for her but, what the hey, maybe she would draw flies to him as well.

Wheeee, it was an orderly but enthusiastic gallery and they all liked to see it close up and personal-like, you know what I'm sayin'? Raymond could hear the remarks directed in his direction, "She's got really nice legs." "Nice legs, my ass, did you take a good look at her ass." And so engrossed was he with his own admirers that he turned to see what new found friend Tricia was doing to turn on her own fans.

And I mean to tell you, Raymond was amazed at the audacity, no, not from what Tricia was doing, but of the demands of the crowd – but then again, I suppose dressed as Tricia was, she was inviting same. But like I said, that was the name of the game.

Raymond survived the fun in the sun and passed the field test imposed upon him by The BSers. He successfully passed the requirements of the part-time TiT program and now had become a full-timer in the more demanding TIT program. (Now, folks, TiT is only a pre-requisite course to the advanced TIT program. Read all about it, folks, the conclusion of the nudie cutie show out in the cornfields of the Midwest (Been there, saw dat) and onward into TIT with Raymond. And above all, Clap Hands, Here Comes Rachel.

  

  

  

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