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Club Fantasy
by: Ariel Davidson
Kevin Carter was glad to have an excuse to get out of the office. Recently, he was feeling more and more repressed by the constraints of working in a bank, even one as small as First Capital. Even though he rarely dealt directly with the public, Kevin still had to wear a suit and tie every day. Casual Friday hadn't caught on in the banking business. That made it all the more difficult to believe that First Capital had load money to Club Fantasy, a "gentleman's club" located just outside of town.
Not that the place was seedy or sleazy. In fact, it looked very upscale, and the parking lot was usually full of expensive late model cars, and even a few vintage beauties. However, on this particular Friday afternoon, the lot was completely empty as Kevin pulled his light blue Honda Accord into the drive. Kevin was not at all surprised. The place was chained and padlocked on Monday, when it was shutdown by the sheriff. Club Fantasy was bankrupt and First Capital had foreclosed. Kevin was there to start assessing the value of the building and its contents. He got out of his car and strode purposefully across the parking lot to the front door. Then he took out the key to the padlock and removed the heavy chain.
Fortunately, the power to the building was still on. Given the nature of the business inside, Kevin didn't expect that there were any windows. He entered the main room of the club, and noted that the carpet was a little worn, but still in usable condition. The small cocktail tables and comfortable upholstered chairs were all first class. The bar was well maintained (and well stocked). The stage area was equipped with professional lighting and a special effects smoke machine. Kevin then checked the DJ's booth and found a very expensive sound system. Still, he wondered how the bank could recover more than a fraction of the value of the place, unless they could find a buyer who wanted to re-open the club.
Next, Kevin turned his attention to the dancer's dressing room, which occupied almost a quarter of the building. It took a couple of minutes for his eyes to adjust to the lights, which were much brighter than the main part of the club. The room contained a large rack filled with exotic costumes for the dancers, drawers containing g-strings and other accessories, and individual lockers where the dancers left their personal items and street clothes. There were several mirrored dressing tables along one wall, and two larger chairs where it appears the dancers had their hair and makeup done.
Kevin had never been to Club Fantasy while it had been open for business, but he had visited similar establishments a few times while on infrequent out-of-town business trips. He started to imagine what the room would look like on a busy Friday nights, with sexy, silicon-enhanced women milling around making themselves as attractive as possible in order to maximize the chances of lightening the wallets of horny fantasizing men. The room and its purpose reminded him of how much the enticing image of the dancers was an illusion. Without the fancy costumes, special hair treatments and extensive makeup, the women here were usually little more than average looking. Even their large breasts were an illusion of sorts, created by skilled surgeons. Under the dim lights of the club, the sexually changed imaginations of the clients did the rest. Given a skillful makeup artist, a good wig, and a little padding in the right places under the costume, he might even be able to appear as a gorgeous babe in the smoky, fantasy-charged atmosphere of the club.
That thought in Kevin's neglected mind quickly blossomed into a daydream. Maybe he could see what he looked like. The costumes were here; even a few elaborately styled blonde wigs. Kevin's cock began to swell as he leafed through the rack of costumes. Why was he doing this? He could get fired if someone was to walk in. Besides, it was all stupid. He was going to look ridiculous, just a guy in a dress.
He found a short gold sequined cocktail dress that looked like it might fit him if it stretched a bit. Then he went to an empty locker and started to undress. When he was totally naked, he noticed a gold g-string at the bottom of the locker. He awkwardly stepped into it. Even though it would never fit right, he hoped it might hold him in enough to keep him from disrupting the lines of the dress too much.
Getting the dress on was a bit of a struggle. It did fit, but just barely. Kevin tugged the tight stretch garment over his waist and hips. The neckline was high and the bodice bagged a little, creating a suggestion of a bust. Still, it nothing like the generous mounds the dress was intended to hold. Then Kevin took a wild haired long blonde wig from a wig stand, walked to the hairdressing and makeup area and sat down. He pulled on the wig and tried to arrange it. Gazing into the mirror, he pondered what to do next.
Then his heart froze. He heard footsteps! Afraid to turn around, he tried to see who was walking up behind him. For some reason, he knew it was a woman, not a man. She walked up to the chair, so that Kevin could see her in the mirror behind him. She was a fairly good-looking woman, a brunette, in her mid thirties. From her expression, it didn't appear that she was at all surprised to see Kevin there.
"Ready to have your hair and makeup done?" she asked. Kevin just nodded. "Lean back Hon"
She began to apply foundation to his face. She continued, highlighting his cheeks. Then she started to work on his eyes, using mostly dark blues and violets to work with his blue eyes and blonde hair. Mark knew that, although this was no light natural makeup job, it wasn't going to be nearly enough to cover his late afternoon beard. She finished by adding a thick glossy polish to his lips, then went on to style his wig.
As she worked on the wig, Kevin thought he could feel her pull at his scalp, as if the hair was his own. He also thought he could hear music playing in the club and even the voices of customers. He tried to turn his head to look towards the door, but the woman working on his hair kept turning it back so that she could continue with her styling efforts. She's doing a good job, too, Kevin thought, as he glanced in the mirror to examine the results. In fact, his face was hardly recognizable. He not only looked more female than male, he really could pass as a dancer, especially in the dim light of the club.
"Okay, you're finished, darlin'", said the woman, as she indicated to Kevin that he should get out of the chair.
Kevin stood up a looked around. There were now several more people in the room, all of them female. In fact, they all looked as if they were dancers, in various states of dress and undress. He was very self-conscious of being the only male present and he glanced down at his body, wondering how well he would pass a female being dressed as he was. The look gave him reason for optimism in that regard. The dress he was wearing actually fit better than he thought it would. In fact, even the bust line looked convincing, as if he had two large breasts underneath. And under the mid-thigh length hem, his legs appeared to be shapely and smooth, even feminine!
"Don't forget your shoes, Amber!" A voluptuous redhead held out a pair of open toed high heels towards him, leaving no doubt that her words were addressed to him.
Kevin nodded and accepted the shoes, wondering how they would possibly fit on his feet. The redhead seemed to know him and called him Amber. Perhaps, dressed and made up the way he was, he resembled on the dancers that worked here.
Wait a minute! The club had been closed, shut down and locked up. Why were all these women here as if it were business as usual? Absentmindedly, he slipped on the shoes. And they fit! This couldn't be happening, he thought. He must be dreaming.
The door opened and a heavyset man wearing a tuxedo stuck his head in. "Tanya, Amber, and Venus, on the floor, please. We have several new customers."
Answering to the name that now seemed to be hers, with hips swaying, Amber walked across the room to the door to the main room. The club was in full operation. The room was dimly lit and filled with the magical mist of cigarette smoke. Amber entered the wondrous center of a new world, where fantasy and reality barely meet without quite touching.
END OF STORY
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