Dressed for Pleasure

by D. L. Savage

  This worked a lot better, and I was relieved to find that while maybe it was a little tight, it just about fit my frame. Even the small cups didn’t look too bad without any padding. I knew Ellie was pretty petite and didn’t have huge boobs, and I found that I only needed a small wad of tissue paper in each cup to give the illusion of two small but perky breasts.

  By now I was super excited to put the stockings on, too. As I moved to the bed to sit down, I was again reminded of the thong, which seemed to tease my ass with each step I took. The feeling was surprisingly nice, and I found myself wondering for a half second what it might feel like if I actually played with my butt sometime. I’d heard that some guys enjoyed that kind of stuff – but until now, I’d never really considered it.

  I sat down on the bed, savoring the snug tightness of the bra and thong, as I grabbed one of the stockings and began rolling it slowly up my leg, loving the way the translucent fabric made my calf and thigh look so damn girly. And sure enough, the lacy part at the top with its rubbery inside held perfectly tight at the top of my thigh. I quickly put on the second stocking, eager now to take a look at myself, racing over to the large floor standing dress mirror the very moment I had both the stockings pulled up and in place.

  And when I finally set eyes on myself, it was perhaps the strangest but most exciting moment of my life to date. I felt my heart rush with pure excitement as I set eyes on my reflection for what felt like the very first time.

  Because all the things I’d previously hated about myself: my paleness, my skinniness, my lack of testosterone and my boyish androgynous features, all of them suddenly made sense.

  It was like I’d secretly been a girl all along – and I could tell now why those two strange women had been so confident about me. Sure, I’d still need makeup to complete the illusion, and I’d need to walk and behave a certain way, but as I posed and pouted before the mirror, checking out my slim hairless body and my brand new curves, my pert little butt and my small perky tits, I had to admit: I already looked fucking hot ...

  6

  By eight o’ clock that evening, I was finally ready. Or at least I hoped I was. I’d spent the whole afternoon taking a whirlwind crash course in makeup and posture, thanks to a whole shit ton of YouTube videos. Luckily, Ellie had an extensive range of makeup for me to practice with, and after a few failed attempts and a lot of face washing, I felt like I’d done a pretty good job.

  I’d used shading (or ‘contouring’ as it was called) to bring out my cheekbones and even some on my chest, giving me fake cleavage, too. And I’d brought out my cheeks with blusher, accentuated my eyes with eyeliner and a set of fake eyelashes which I found in the bottom drawer. As for my lips and nails, I’d chosen matching shades of pink, which I hoped were sexy.

  As I headed back to the mirror for what felt like the millionth time, I made sure to practice the poise and grace I’d learnt. It was all about pretending there was a rod down your spine, in order to keep your head straight and your shoulders back. And I made sure to take smaller steps than I was used to, placing one sneaker-clad foot gracefully in front of the other.

  Sure, I’d probably look even better in heels, but that was the only part of the outfit I couldn’t source at short notice. Ellie’s shoes were a size 3 and I was a 10, so yeah. My smartest black sneakers would have to do.

  As I finally reached the mirror, I felt that shock of excitement all over again. My long blonde hair was now full and glossy, tumbling over my shoulders, and I watched my plump glossy lips curl into a grin as I marveled at the girl in the mirror, unable to believe that she was really me.

  The dress was even more figure hugging than I’d been anticipating, really clinging to my body, and there was a slit cut out of one side, so that the majority of my left leg was on full display, showing off one of my sexy stockings.

  I felt my cock softly throbbing in my panties, as I realized all over again how fucking hot I looked. Because I looked exactly like the kind of girl I’d never have a chance with! And what’s more, despite my nerves and trepidation about the night that lay ahead, another part of me was eager to show myself off. I felt braver somehow, dressed like this – perhaps because it was like a costume or a disguise. I felt like I could do anything, could act completely differently than my usual shy, nervous self – like I could really be somebody new.

  In a way, I guess I was.

  Because there in front of the mirror, I no longer felt like shy, geeky Alex.

  I felt like a sexy, confident girl.

  I felt like Alexa ...

  * * *

  An hour later, I stepped out of my building and into the cool evening air, and as I glanced towards the door to the club, I saw that another girl – the skinny pale blonde from the interview – was waiting outside. I racked my brains, wondering what her name was, but either I hadn’t heard it, or in the whirlwind of the interview I’d forgotten, so I just strode up to her, shooting her a friendly smile and saying, “Hey, I’m Alexa! Is it your first night too?”

  To be honest, I kinda surprised myself by my newfound confidence – this was totally unlike the usual me. But I just rolled with it, almost as if my feminine persona had a mind of her own, and I was simply a passenger, along for the ride.

  “Sure is,” she smiled back, offering her slim hand for me to shake. “I’m Chloe.” Then she added, “I don’t think I saw you at the interview?”

  “Oh, I was there,” I heard myself saying, my grin widening. “But I wasn’t wearing any makeup and probably looked more like a boy ...” Then I leant in and added in a stage whisper, “If you hadn’t guessed, I’m trans ...”

  I actually found myself enjoying the way Chloe’s eyes widened and she did a double take, losing all her cool as she looked me over, then grinned and said, “Wow. Well, you look stunning.”

  “Thank you,” I replied proudly.

  I was about to ask if she had any more idea what our job as ‘hostesses’ would actually entail, when all of a sudden our conversation was interrupted by the heavy clunk of a bolt, and then the door swung open and there was Raquel, looking even more glamorous than this morning, her long hair now tied up in a large bun and her amazing figure accentuated by a beautiful black evening gown.

  There was a silence as she us both over for a moment, first Chloe, then me. I caught my breath when her eyes reached my sneakers and she shook her head.

  “You should be wearing heels,” she said quietly, catching my eye. “What size shoe are you?”

  “Uh, ten,” I admitted, feeling a soft blush rise to my cheeks. Because now, like this, I found I hated any reminder of my true male identity.

  She sighed and shook her head. “Well, I guess those will have to do for tonight,” she muttered. “I don’t suppose anyone is going to be looking at your feet, anyway. But in future, you’re only to wear heels, got it?”

  I nodded, hoping to God she didn’t notice anything else that I’d somehow done wrong.

  “But apart from that, you both look very pretty,” she said with a smile, clapping her hands. “Okay ladies, if you’d like to follow me, let’s get this party started ...”

  I shot Chloe a quick nervous glance. Somehow, it felt better to have someone else who was in a similar situation, and she looked just as apprehensive as I did, as we both followed Raquel through the door and into the darkness ...

  7

  As Raquel led us down a long corridor, I could hear the soft murmur of male voices and female laughter, and the rhythmic pulse of house music, but as we turned a corner, and she led us down another corridor, it seemed like the sounds got fainter again, and instead she brought us both into what seemed like some kind of plush cloakroom, with dark purple velvet benches and ornate black and purple wall paper, the lighting dim and brooding.

  “This is where you can come to freshen up, if you need to,” she said. “There’s showers in the back there, and help yourself to anything to eat and drink in the fridge. I’ll leave it up to you as to when to take breaks, but
do bear in mind that Lydia likes there to be at least eight girls on the floor at all times ...”

  I felt my curiosity increasing, not to mention the nagging frustration that I still didn’t know exactly what this job entailed. But I was soon to find out.

  “You’ll get the hang of how it all works in no time, I’m sure,” she continued, as if able to read my mind, “but if you have any specific questions, feel free to ask me or any of the other girls working tonight. Your only official job is to keep our gentlemen happy – and by that, I mean offer them refreshments, laugh at their jokes, and if any of them want to take you to one of the pleasure rooms ...”

  I felt my stomach lurch at the words ...

  “That’s at your own discretion. We have quite a few high rollers in here, and they don’t like to leave unsatisfied, if you know what I mean?”

  She gave us each a strange, knowing look, before continuing.

  “And take it from me, these guys pay very well, so you’d be going home with a little extra on top of your nightly wage if you agreed. But if you want to be nice girls, that’s cool, too. There are other hostesses who’ll jump at the opportunity ...”

  Her words hung in the air as she turned to leave. I could feel my head swimming as I tried to process all this new information. So we were kind of escorts? If we wanted to be? But at the same time, we didn’t have to do anything if we didn’t want to? I wondered how true her words really were, or whether she was imply that we had to get down with these ‘gentlemen’ if we wanted to stay working there.

  It was impossible to tell, and a quick glance at Chloe, who’d somehow got even paler, confirmed that I wasn’t the only one who was a little shocked by Raquel’s frank manner.

  “Oh and girls?” she added, turning back to us. “There’s a dish of something on the coffee table for you. Might help get you in the mood? Take your time to get nice and relaxed, and whenever you’re ready to make your entrance, it’s the last door at the end of the corridor ...”

  With that she left the room, closing the door behind her. I turned to Chloe, giving her a what-the-fuck expression, and she smiled nervously back at me and shrugged, obviously wrestling with the same thoughts I was having.

  A part of me wanted to run a mile, while another – and I guess this was Alexa taking charge once again – found herself actually considering what Raquel had said, taking the idea seriously.

  I watched as Chloe padded over to the small ornamental dish on the coffee table, lifting the lid to reveal a huge mound of tiny glittering crystals that looked a hell of a lot like ...

  “Is that what I think it is?” I said quietly.

  She licked the tip of her finger then dipped it in, bringing it to her mouth then wincing from the taste.

  “It’s molly,” she confirmed.

  I’d only done it a couple times before at parties, but I guess it made sense. It was exactly the kind of drug to get you in the mood for partying, and I felt myself walking over and doing the same as Chloe, licking the tip of my finger and dipping it into the crystals, lifting out a little more than I’d planned and bringing it to my lips, my mouth quickly filling with the sour, chemical taste. I winced and shuddered, looking around for something to wash the taste away.

  The pop of a cork behind me told me that Chloe had found something.

  “Maybe this job might be pretty fun after all,” she said with a cheeky grin, as she swigged from the chilled bottle of champagne that she’d taken from the fridge, then offered it out to me ...

  * * *

  We hung out in the room for a while, occasionally dabbing at the molly and passing the bottle back and forth between us. Pretty soon, I could feel the buzz slowly creeping through my body – a sweep of pure chemical pleasure, taking with it any last doubts and nerves I might have had.

  We talked too, and Chloe told me that she was the same age as me – nineteen – and studying Fashion at college. She asked me how long I’d been transitioning for, and I told her a version of the truth, that really I was just experimenting, and that I hadn’t taken anything yet, any hormones or whatever. She was really warm and friendly towards me, complimenting me on my style and telling me again how good I looked, and even though she was super hot, I found myself thinking of her more as a girlfriend, rather than some cute chick I wanted to get with.

  In fact, I was enjoying our fun conversation so much, for a little while I even forgot why we were there, until she gave me a look and said, “I guess it’s time we went in?”

  I felt a fresh rush of energy – a tingling nervous excitement. I knew I was as ready as I’d ever be for whatever this club held in store for us. As we pushed ourselves to our feet, it seemed natural when Chloe gently took my hand and the two of us made our way out of the room and down the corridor like that, walking towards the direction of the thumping boom of the music, which got louder with every step we took, until we were right outside a big black door at the very end of the corridor.

  “Good luck,” Chloe said, giving me a final nervous smile.

  “You too,” I smiled back.

  She pushed open the door and we stepped inside ...

  8

  As we entered the large circular room, I found it hard to believe that this amazing place existed right below my apartment. It was amazing – furnished in plush purple velvet seating, with small curtained off doorways on all sides. The lighting was dim and the music was loud, and everywhere I looked were men in smart black tuxedos, handsome men – all of them looking more like they were attending some gala ball than a sleazy sex club. And in amongst them I saw girls too, girls dressed like Chloe and I in sexy, tight black dresses and stockings, slim elegant girls who were chatting and laughing with the men. And on all the tables were bottles of chilled champagne.

  But before we could make our way down the small steps and start to mingle, the music came to a stop, and it was as if every eye in the place suddenly turned to us.

  We both stood there, rooted to the spot like a pair of rabbits caught in the headlights, and then I heard a familiar female voice – the strange lilting European accent of Lydia, the older woman from my interview – ring out over some kind of speaker system.

  “Well, gentlemen,” she said, “I told you there’d be a little extra treat for you this evening. Because we have not one but two new hostesses joining us tonight. I do hope you’ll give them the warm welcome they deserve – and do be gentle with them as they’re both rather wet behind the ears. On the left we have Chloe. She’s an amateur dancer and a Fashion student at the local college, while on the right we have Alexa. I know a few of you have been asking to meet a girl with a little something extra, and Alexa assures me she’s packing quite a lovely little surprise. So why don’t we give our new girls an especially warm welcome, yes?”

  As the music started up again, another sound rose up too: the sound of applause, as all the gentlemen, and even the other girls, clapped and smiled as we made our way as gracefully as we could down the steps and into the crowd.

  My heart was thudding hard against my ribs, and everywhere I looked, my gaze seemed to be met with fresh hungry male eyes. Never in my life could I have been prepared for a feeling like that. It was scary and addictive at the same time – as I realized that all these men desired me, that they all wanted the same thing.

  But what shocked me most of all was just how much I was enjoying it. I no longer felt like Alex – I’d left him completely behind. Now I was fully Alexa, a sexy confident girl who craved exactly this kind of attention.

  To my right, I caught sight of Chloe, watching as she picked up a fresh bottle of champagne and began to make her way demurely around the room, offering to refill the gentlemen’s glasses, and I decided to do the same, plucking another full, chilled bottle from a nearby table and beginning to make a slow, graceful circle of the room, keeping my back straight, taking small elegant steps, and smiling politely.

  And I hadn’t got very far, when I felt two guys move in on either side of me, so that I
didn’t know which way to turn.

  “Drink, sir?” I said to the man on my left, a handsome older white guy – with salt and pepper hair, sculpted jaw and broad shoulders, in that classic George Clooney way.

  Then I turned to the other guy, who was younger and black, with a neatly trimmed beard, thick sensual lips and dark burning eyes, as I said again, “Drink, sir?”

  “Don’t mind if we do,” the first guy replied, his voice as smooth as silk, deep and low, sending a surprising shiver right through me, as I filled his glass, willing my hand not to shake.

  “Why thank you,” the second guy grinned, as I turned back to him, again trying not to let my nervous excitement show as I filled his glass, too.

  “You’re very pretty,” the white guy added, moving in a little closer to me, close enough for me to smell the spicy musk of his no-doubt-expensive cologne.

  “Very pretty indeed,” the black guy purred in my other ear, before I even had a chance to say anything.

  It was crazy how in-sync these two were, almost like they’d rehearsed this little routine, obviously enjoying how flustered and excited they were making me as they closed in tighter on either side of me, their huge masculine bulk making me feel so damn small and skinny and delicate in comparison.

  “We’ve been waiting for a girl like you,” the white guy said, confidently reaching out and taking the champagne bottle from my hand, setting it down on a nearby table. “My friend here and I were wondering if you’d like to join us somewhere a little more private? I promise we’d make it worth your while ...”

  I shot a nervous glance around the room, trying to pick out Chloe from the crowd, wondering if she was already in a similar situation to me. I guess from what Raquel had said, I should have expected to get this kind of attention, but even so, things were moving so damn fast. I mean, how far did I really want to go with these guys? I’d never done anything with a man before. Maybe it was the molly and champagne in my system, but I didn’t feel scared exactly … just unsure.