Public Cross Dressing Experience Ch. 02bysublocked©
Donna's eyes were now accustomed to the murky darkness of the bar. The gin and tonic had disappeared from her glass a bit too quickly as she became immersed again in this bizarre charade and fantasy. The corset remained unflinchingly tight, holding her erect and feminine, and her shaved body was slippery under the dress, hose and panties, her penis reacting with every movement, sliding, rising, subsiding, rising again. She closed her eyes and tried not to think or feel this, but it was too overwhelming.
The enclosure in women's clothes and persona was too much. She sat there observing the inside of the bar and realized that to all within it she was a woman, no questions asked, and that was both thrilling and alarming. Again she closed her eyes and her lips parted as she moved her hips imperceptibly back and forth on the seat in the booth behind the table. She briefly touched her breasts in the guise of straightening her necklace. Her breathing became erratic and even more shallow than the corset allowed...
"Can I buy you a drink?"
Donna started and opened her eyes. What the fuck? "What?" she said, clearly shocked at the abrupt disruption of her imminent orgasm, "Pardon me?"
A middle-aged man with thinning grey hair leaned on the back of the chair opposite her at the table. He was tall but heavy set, had glasses, and was dressed business casual, a pair of black pants, blue shirt, no tie, but with a sports jacket. In contrast to the clothes, he had at least two days growth of beard, and his hands looked dirty, but with gold and diamond rings on almost every finger. Pimp-like, dangerous, Donna thought.
He leered and said, "Sorry I interrupted your, err, sorry I interrupted you. But can I buy you a drink? You look like you need some company."
Scared now, "Thank-you, but no. I'm fine." And she looked away.
He sat down. Donna ignored him and reached into her purse as a distraction to make herself look aloof. He stared at her and smiled with absolute confidence.
"Never seen you in here before, have I? Not your regular walk is it? By the way, pretty obvious you were about to have an orgasm. I can help."
Donna reacted with anger, her eyes flashing, her voice perhaps a bit masculine, "I said no to the drink, and I did not say you could sit down here. And what you THINK was happening is a disgusting comment. Now, leave or I'm going to get the manager."
He sat back and folded his arms, quiet for a few moments. "I am the manager," he said with that by now familiar leer, "and if you're gonna act like that, then I'm gonna ask YOU to leave. The hookers that come in here normally don't get as hostile as you, so why don't you pay your fucking bill and leave? I like friendly people in my bar."
Donna was flustered. Her gin high was tossed aside by the danger adrenaline in her system. It was then that she remembered she had no means to pay. No cash, no credit card, nothing. This called for desperate measures. "Okay then, I will leave!" Abruptly, she got up and walked quickly to the door, her knees wobbly with fear.
The grab on her arm was severe and bruising, heavy with brute strength. "You weren't thinkin' of leavin' without payin', were you? Cuz, I wouldn't like that. Ten bucks, then get the fuck out."
Donna shuffled her feet, still with her back to him. "Umm, let me make a phone call okay? I don't have any money. I'm sorry."
The manager twirled her around. "You come into my bar, order a drink, and you don't have any fucking money?" The Jack Daniel's veins in his face were almost bursting with anger as he glared at her. Suddenly he smiled. "Tell you what, you can pay me in services rendered." He pulled her close and said, "Ten dollar blow job and I won't call the cops. Deal?"
Donna was thinking frantically. Sure, this guy was old, but he was big, and street wise, tough. Should she blow her cover and pepper him with fists and run away? Run away in high heels. Not a fast exit. "Look, a friend of mine is coming by to join me. She should be here soon. I need to phone her okay?"
Disappointed, he whispered, "Okay, but it better be soon. You embarrass me in front of my regulars and I don't want you in here, get it? If your friend ain't here in ten minutes, it's cops or a blow job. You better make up your mind."
Donna called Tess' cell and waited. One ring, two rings...please pick up, please pick up.
"You've reached Tess. Leave a message. Bye."
Donna was stunned. She pretended to talk to a live Tess, "Oh Hi Tess. Yeah I know, I know," (pause, pause), "yes, oh you're on your way? Good. Look I've got an incident here. Need your money girl, emergency," (pause, pause), "Yeah, Jason's Place, across from the Metronome. Okay, see you soon. Bye."
To the manager, "She's on her way. Don't worry; you'll get your money."
He leered at her again and grabbed her left breast, massaging it while pushing her toward a side door. Luckily the glue held fast and when he removed his hand her breasts were still intact and even. The touch appeared to embolden him even more and his breathing became deep and loud.
"Maybe I don't want the money now. Did you ever think of that? Maybe I just want a blow job." He pushed the door open and with surprising strength and agility, pushed her into the side entrance hallway, a place that stank of urine and semen, but was devoid of light.
"No! Stop right now or I'm going to hurt you," Donna yelled, summoning her masculine side.
"Really now? A nice little girl like you hurting me? Good one." Before Donna could react, he grabbed her right arm and got it in a lock behind her shoulder blade, and forced her to the floor with one strong hand. With the other, he undid his fly and flopped his penis in front of her face. "One false move, and your arm gets broken. Now suck my dick slut!"
Her shoulder was almost to the point of dislocation. He knew how to do this and his grip was like a vice. Donna smelled but could not see the penis in front of her face. He was searching out her mouth as it slapped against nose, cheek, then lips.
"Suck it bitch. Suck it and swallow it bitch," as he thrust into her mouth.
With her free arm she started to swing at him, but he simply applied more pressure on the arm lock, causing her to retreat and re-think her defiance. She had underestimated his strength. There was no real alternative. She took him then and he thrust deep into her mouth causing her to gag slightly.
Donna just wanted this over. Instead of him relaxing as she worked him, he pulled harder on the arm, so she worked harder as well, probably the response he wanted. Even as he came, spitting the disgusting goo down her throat, the arm lock grew so tight that she was sure she would loose that battle too and break her arm.
He pulled hard on her arm and said, "Swallow darling. Swallow it all. That's it. Yes."
She worked him until he was dry, swallowing as much as she could, wondering if she had just at this minute in her life contracted AIDS. The manager relaxed now and let her arm go. The only sound was his heavy breathing. The only taste was his semen. The only smell was of him, and the only feeling was one of rage and humiliation. The darkness of the hallway was not as dark as it had seemed earlier, and Donna lowered her arm in pain until circulation and the normal bending motion returned. She saw his silhouette in the light of a crack in an exit doorway and kicked. Her shoe connected with a sickening thud into the very organ she had just had in her mouth and he doubled over in helpless agony. Donna was Don now, and he brought his knee up to meet the manager's descending face, silencing the beginnings of his scream. He dropped with a thud, out like the light. For good measure, Don kicked him again in the ribs, unmistakably breaking some or all in the vicinity of the shoe. He was not going to be getting up any time soon.
With a surprising degree of coolness born of necessity and adrenaline, Don reverted to Donna and walked back into the bar and looked around. Not one person even looked at her, so she walked to the ladies room to freshen up. Suddenly her hands started to shake as the adrenalin levels changed once again. The cell phone rang in her purse and she picked it up, "Tess? It's about fucking time. I'm dying down here. I just was raped. Well not technically raped, but I was forced to give a guy a blow job. He almost broke my arm." She looked in the mirror as she talked. "Oh shit Tess! You've got to get here quick and get me home. I'm a mess. My make-up's a mess. I'm a guy in drag now. Oh shit, oh shit! Get me out of here."
"Jesus Donna, what did you do for Christ's sake? Are you safe? Are you okay? I'm just outside and I'm coming into the bar. Where are you?"
"I'm in the ladies room. The guy who got the blow job is unconscious in another room. Jesus, what a pig! I should have killed him. I feel like barfing. Got any toothpaste? I don't think I want to be a woman any more. Oh God, this fucking corset is tight!"
The bathroom door opened and Donna cringed back into the corner. When Tess saw her she ran to her and hugged her close. "Oh my God, you look like shit! Okay, let's fix you up okay? Okay? Are you okay?"
Whether it was the corset or all the clothes, makeup and wig combined, Donna looked at Tess and actually started to cry like a woman under stress, but caught it and held it back in a manly way. "Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me? I feel so, I feel so weird, so weak or something. Did you put me on hormones too? Jesus Tess, did you do that?"
"No Donna, I didn't. I could, but I didn't. Now calm down and stand here under the light while I remove your makeup."
"Remove it? How the hell am I going to pull this off if I don't actually look like a woman Tess? Jesus!"
Tess grabbed Donna's head between her hands and spoke to her, inches from her face, "Donna, calm down, okay? Your stubble is showing through. I have to remove your makeup so you can shave again. Then I'll do you up again. I knew I'd have to do this anyway, so I have everything I need."
While Tess was dabbing the makeup off, Donna asked, "What time is it any way?"
"She's at work. She's expecting to meet you at the Olay Bar at 6:00, remember? Then we're going for supper." The makeup was gone except for around the eyes and Donna/Don began to shave with the electric shaver. Tess noted that Donna's nails were still in good shape as were her clothes, no rips or smudges of dirt or God forbid, cum. By 3:49 Don was Donna again, and very much calmed down.
They left the bar together and walked to where they could see the Olay Bar. It was 3:57.
Tess said, "The plan still applies girl. Go the bar. It opens right now. Remember what to do. The tab is open for you." She was almost running away from Donna as she told her this and Donna looked at her disappearing form in despair.
"Tess? Jesus Christ Tess!" But she was gone. And there was nothing else she could do but go to Olay and wait for the next planned stage of this adventure. Donna felt like a puppet in a huge theater, manipulated and transformed at someone else's whim, captured and forced to act this play out. Oddly, it aroused her and her penis stirred once again, remembering her interrupted orgasm in the bar earlier. She walked to the Olay door and looked inside. An odd pink and black décor beckoned with soft lights and curtained walls and windows. She opened the door and entered.
Sitting at the bar alone Donna gazed around the room. Odd décor. Lots of pictures of women on the walls in various stages of undress. Some were lesbian couples, and some wore fetish gear. Was this another fetish club in the city she was unaware of, she wondered?
"What'll you have sweetie?" asked the female bartender, a monstrous woman of well over six feet, although trim and well proportioned, curvaceously maintained by an external black corset over a short red dress. Her hair was short and black and her makeup was perfect and regal. Studs lined both her ears from top to bottom and her fingernails were short but matched her dress.
"Chardonnay please. My name is Donna."
"Oh yes, of course. It's all been arranged for you. Welcome to Olay. My name's Evita."
There was an awkward silence then as Evita explored Donna's body and clothing. She seemed to snap out of it and walked to the other end of the bar to pour the wine. Bringing it back to Donna, she placed the wine glass down and leaned on the bar, hands spread wide and leaning forward.
"You look great," she said, "How long have you been a woman?"
Donna already had the wine to her lips and the directness of the question took her by surprise. Her breath expelled from her mouth in a rather violent fashion, ejecting a small spout of wine onto the bar. "What? I, umm, what? What kind of a question is that?" she said, hoping the makeup would conceal the burn in her cheeks.
Evita replied, "I thought, oh, Tess said, umm, look, I'm so sorry. That was a stupid question. This glass is on me ma'am."
Donna had already finished the glass by now. "Good then. I'll have another. What time is it?"
"4:23. It's early. Normally we don't get members in so early, but here you are. I, umm, assume you are a member?"
Donna squinted her eyes. "Member? Tess didn't say anything about membership. What is this place anyway?"
"You don't know? Look, this is kind of awkward. I don't want you to get the wrong idea and be intimidated or anything, but this is a lesbian bar. We open at 4 and close at 3 AM. Most of the good stuff happens after 10. Are you sure you're okay with that?"
Donna stared at her in silent disbelief for a few moments, thinking of where else she could go safely. Thinking of no other, she said, "Yeah, I'm okay with that." Again, the channeling of necessity. There was no other place.
In an hour, a few women started to arrive, most of whom were dressed in business suits, direct from the office, enjoying a couple of drinks before heading home. Most were couples. The ones alone eyed her as a possibility. They either stayed or would be back later.
By 6:00 Donna had been served five glasses of wine and was feeling fine among a bar full of women. Both the wine and the situation were intoxicating, and she chatted with several prospective dates, none of whom guessed she was a he, as far as she could tell anyway. Her panties were soaked and she honestly wished she had a girdle on to conceal her perpetual erection. Trips to the ladies room required a constant cover of her genital area with her purse, and the whole scenario morphed into a dream state, surreal in its implications.
Tess and Jen entered at 6:05 and several of the patrons hugged them as they entered, obviously in recognition of at least "regular" status, if not "lover" status. They sat on either side of Donna and they hugged, grinning widely.
"You look good," Jen said, "How was your first blow job?"
Donna glared at her and responded, "Jen, that's not funny. Tomorrow I'm going to get checked for AIDS, for Christ's sake. That is, IF you are so kind as to allow me to become a man again. I think my shape is becoming permanently altered by this corset."
Tess intervened, "Well, your release depends on how you perform tonight girl. You need some initiation into womanhood, and this is the place to do it. We have The Room booked for you. But first, let's order some nachos and you can meet all our friends."
"The Room? What's the room? Initiation? Can we take the nachos in there, cuz I'm starved?" Donna's sense of discretion and reason had by now been diminished to almost nil by the wine and fantasy. Facts and questions were disconnected in the fabric of time.
Tess cast a secretive glance at Jen as she dropped a powder in Donna's glass. It dissolved without a visible trace. "Well, let's finish the nachos and wine first shall we? Here's to women!" And she raised her glass, clinking it with the other two.
Donna drank with gusto, relieved to be with friends in a safe place, enchanted to be dressed in a corset and heels, perfectly at ease as a woman, for the first time in her life. Her penis ached for relief and she sensed it would come tonight. Finally, tonight.