The Chandelier Ch. 01

I hate my job.

Frankly, I don't know anyone who doesn't. But that doesn't mean I don't get to complain, does it? No, everyone gets to complain, thus I will too.

This pointless train of thought ran loops around my head as I mechanically verified the sheet of figures before me. Hedge funds paid well, yes. It merely cost you pieces of your soul.

I sighed, glancing at the clock. Two hours till I can fuck off home. I could do it.

An arm thumped onto my shoulder, causing me to yelp in surprise. A flush immediately flooded my cheeks at how feminine it sounded. Couldn't hide one's true nature and all, I suppose.

I turned around in indignation to see Xavier standing behind me, a cheeky grin on his face. Sweeping his perpetually messy hair to the side, he bent down till his face was next to mine, then planted a big smooch on my cheek.

I felt a hotness in my cheek, not because it was nasty or embarrassing, but because it felt good. Unfortunately, the show must go on.

"What. Do. You. Want?" I asked through gritted teeth as I tried to push Xavier away. However, he was far bulkier than me, so he effortlessly repelled my efforts and instead cozied up even closer.

"I was just wondering if you were free tonight. We could eat, grab a drink... you know, the usual," he said.

I gave him a rueful smile. "Sorry, bud. I'm..."

"Busy tonight," Xavier finished with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Mr. Aster and his monumental commitments every Friday night. Just own up, man. Who's the chick you're fucking?"

My eye twitched as I savored the irony in his sentence. If only he knew I was the chick getting fucked. Now, don't get me wrong, I loved hanging out with Xavier. He was an incredibly good friend and even more fun to talk to. It was just that at least once a week, I had to let loose. Shed the false skin, reveal my true self. Fully dress up, and be... free. Without anyone knowing. Without anyone judging. Just me, a few drinks and hopefully a cute guy who swung both ways.

I eyed Xavier. To be honest, the man completely met the mark. Surpassed it even. But unfortunately, I doubted he swung that way, despite all his flamboyant overtures towards me. Xavier was simply... touchy. If he was any less charismatic or genuine, he would be in jail. Unfortunately, he was just adorable enough that everyone pretty much liked him and as such, caused me to end up in a situation where he was smooching me on the cheek.

Anyways, back to the topic at hand. For myself, my... sanity, even Xavier had to take a back seat.

"No chick, Xav. Just myself and some... soul searching."

He pouted. Always that damn pout. "Pretty please? My friends already canceled on me because of work. I'm lonely," he whined.

"Well, make more friends. Or find yourself a stalker. That should make things interesting."

Xavier made a face. "A stalker? You mean a stabber-in-training? No thanks, I don't wanna die this young." He stood up and clapped me on the shoulder. "Keep an open mind. I'll even pay for dinner."

He winked and left. Before he did, I leered at him, which elicited a chuckle. I turned back to my desk with a small smile. Good old Xavier. Unfortunately for him, a free dinner wasn't a price heavy enough.

Thus, when the glorious hour of 6pm rolled around, I waltzed over to Xavier's desk, where the poor man was still on the call with a client, I gave him a sad shrug and held my hands together in apology. He made a pleading face and displayed his best puppy eyes, so I walked up and planted a big smooch on his cheek to return the favor.

"You little-" he said, twisting away from me, "Uh, I apologize, that was someone else," he hastily amended to his client. I held one hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter, and ruffled his hair with the other. He mock-shoved me away, then mouthed the words, "Have fun."

I smiled, flashed him a heart cupped from my hands, then dashed for the elevator. Finally, the week had come to its deserving end.

The trip home was slow but uneventful- the peak traffic meant it took me more than an hour to finally pull into my condominium. As I stepped into my apartment, I emptied my pockets and kicked off my shoes in one fluid move, then tossed my backpack to one side. Stepping in front of the full body mirror that was affixed onto a wall in the living room, I took in my appearance. A plain white dress shirt, black dress pants, black belt, hair tied up in a messy man bun. Quintessential Aster, who ran my life from Monday to Friday.

And it was time to put him to rest. I let down my hair, shaking it loose, then unbuttoned and discarded my shirt and pants. I observed myself in the only remaining article of clothing I wore- a pair of black bikini panties that represented my only connection with my true feminine self on the weekdays- and smiled tiredly. I could see the shadow of Astria, but she wasn't fully back. There was more to do. It was exhausting, having to suppress the dominant half of yourself every week. Perhaps one day, I wouldn't have to.

I gathered the clothes dumped on the floor and changed their dumping ground to the laundry basket nearby. Then, I put on a plain cardigan top and shorts and began cooking dinner. I was starving- surprising for someone who just sat in an office all day and stared at spreadsheets. I kept dinner simple- rice with grilled salmon and broccoli. Nothing unfamiliar that could agitate the stomach; I needed my ass to be on its A-game for the night.

Then it was the customary hour-long trip to the toilet. I gathered my douching kit and loaded up a movie on my cell phone, then began to pump my bowels with warm water to wash out any fecal matter that could be stuck to my intestines. I had taken a shit in office- always shit on company time- which meant that the process shouldn't be too long. However, sometimes the intestines could be surprising in its resilience.

When I was done douching, I took a waxing strip and attacked any fine patches of hair that survived the laser hair removal treatments. After I was satisfied, I took a quick rinse in the shower, scrubbing my crotch and ass with extra vigor, and padded out into my bedroom to begin the process of summoning Astria.

I knelt on my bed, bent down and thrust my ass into the air, then picked up a syringe full of silicone lube that I carefully injected into myself. Clenching tight to ensure that nothing leaked out, I took my favorite metal plug- a large, heavy toy that I had extensively trained myself on, and popped it into my mouth. After coating it with my saliva, I placed it in my hand and guided it to my rosebud. Relaxing my sphincter, I began to push.

A moan escaped my mouth as it stretched me open most delightfully. Slowly but steadily, I pushed the toy into me, my cock twitching as it went further inwards. As the toy became completely submerged into me, my ready body swallowed the spine, until the base fit snugly against my rosebud.

"Mm," I purred contentedly as I stretched, feeling the satisfactory weight of the toy within me. With every movement I made, every clench of my butt, I could feel the plug shift, teasing me incessantly. I had once tried to wear the plug to work; it had been the most unproductive day of my life.

I picked out a little black thong from my lingerie drawer to pair with my garter belt, pulling it such that it firmly held my plug in. While it wasn't the biggest concern now, holding in the plug could become much harder at the end of the night if I was to meet a well-endowed individual. Afterwards, I wore the garter belt, fitting it around my waist and adjusting the straps. One good thing about having a cock was that even with a garter belt, a trip to the toilet was not an inconvenience at all.

I slid on a pair of sheer black stockings, the electric sensation of it running up my smooth legs sending a small shiver down my spine. It's been more than a decade since I discovered myself. And yet, the exotic feeling I first felt always returned when I wore hosiery. With my nylon-encased feet, I hooked over my shoes for the night- a pair of towering stilettos with a complex web of straps that gave me a headache every time I had to sort it out. I supposed that was the price to be paid for the unparalleled confidence that the shoes offered. A small smile played on my lips as I fumbled with the straps, a distant memory of me detesting my petite five-four height resurfacing. Now, I was just glad that I could wear heels and still rest my head on the shoulder of whoever was plowing me through for the night.

After I buckled in the final strap on my ankle, I stood and stalked my way towards my closet, every sensual click of the heels against the lacquered hardwood flooring causing my silk bound cock to twitch in its gentle confines. I picked out my dress for the night- a slutty, black pleated minidress that was cut so short my ass would be on full display with one gentle gust- and carefully stepped into it. Savoring its caress on my skin with every swish, I walked to my dressing table and began applying makeup. Fortunately, I was blessed with a somewhat androgynous face, which meant a few moderate touches was sufficient. Finally, I clipped in a few hair extensions to feminize my hair, and I was done.

Anticipation coursing through me, I went back into the living room. When I saw my reflection, a grin spread over my face. Mundane Aster had vanished. In his place was exotic, sultry Astria, a combination that was precisely what I wanted to hit. I turned sideways, thrusting my butt out, striking a pose that, accompanied with my expression, openly begged for a hard pounding. I felt my cock yet again throb and I was satisfied. After all, if I could seduce myself, I could seduce anyone. I was beauty, I was grace. I... leaned in closely to study myself in the mirror, then groaned.

I had fucked up the makeup on my face. Fortunately, it was a quick fix. Upon another inspection, I spotted no flaws and allowed myself a self satisfied smirk. "Welcome back, Ria," I whispered, a small, bitter ache manifesting in my heart. Why couldn't I be her all the time?

Shoving that thought to the back of my mind, I strode towards the door where my purse laid. Tonight was not a night for regret; it was one for fun. After ensuring that I had my essentials, I left the house, locked my door and went down to the ground level of my block, just in time to see the taxi I had booked swing into the driveway.

The night was going swimmingly. Perhaps this luck would persist in the Chandelier. As the taxi sped away towards the club, I idly dreamt of chancing upon a gorgeous stud who didn't mind a girl with something extra. The dream developed, and the rhythmic hum of the taxi's engine slowly morphed into my own imagined squeals as this mystery lover fucked me senseless in this wanton fantasy. I bit my lip at these thoughts, thighs shifting to clamp down on my cock's vive la revolution against my panties.

Steady there, cowgirl. Why don't you save yourself for the actual bull instead?

-

From the outside, the Chandelier didn't look at all like the risque establishment it was. It was a plain, two-storied building with a lone, modest door facing the road. There was a single bouncer- Squid, it would seem tonight, standing next to a small plaque bearing the name of the club. That was all. No gaudy, flashing signs. No scantily clad strippers prostrating themselves to the world in a glass display. No thumping music that shattered one's eardrums. But that was precisely why I had grown to love the club. It was a familiar, hidden haven in a much crueler world.

I alighted from my taxi, a radiant smile on my face as I waved. Squid's grim scowl broke apart as he saw me, a grin replacing it instead.

"Ria! You look lovely!" He exclaimed as he enveloped me in a bear hug. I leaned up and kissed him on his grizzled cheek.

"Thanks, Squid. You look menacing, as always. How's the clientèle tonight?"

Squid scratched at his chin. "Well, we have the regulars. Then..." His eyes suddenly lit up and he snapped his fingers. "Oh! A new guy came in. Tall as fuck and shredded to match. Kinda like me in my prime, only slightly worse."

I snorted at that and patted Squid's bulking stomach. "Yeah, keep reminiscing, bud. Honestly, follow my advice. Cut the nachos and do some sit ups. You'll be back in no time."

Squid guffawed. "No nachos? You might as well ask me to shoot myself. Hard pass, Ria. But hey. Don't worry about me. Go enjoy your night, see if you can snag that guy, yeah?"

I smiled at him fondly. Good old Squid. Demeanor of a bear with a heart of gold. The kindest, most open person I knew. I wondered if Chandelier management knew how lucky they were to have someone like him. "I'll see you after, Squid. Take care out here, alright?"

"You got it." Squid replied. I gave him another quick hug, then entered the club.

Chandelier was neither tall nor wide, but it sure was complex. The club consisted of a labyrinth of corridors that led into rooms- some bigger to accommodate bars, tables, and dance stages, others smaller to afford its occupants a degree of privacy for their... activities. However, the signature crimson and gold of the club was present throughout, splashed across the walls, tablecloths, carpets. Passion and royalty, mixed together in a swirl of hedonistic grandeur. A vortex, alluring in its depravity that I had to be careful not to drown in.

Yet, as I passed through the rooms, the calls from the depths beneath grew louder, more potent. I took in the sights in the rooms- a pair of ladies writhing on a velvet couch, a hunk of a man thrusting into his slender counterpart, a dominatrix dripping wax on the back of her moaning submissive. Arousal pooled darkly in my core, threatening to submerge my rationality, drown it beneath the tide that was my desire for mind numbing pleasure.

But first, a drink. I swept into one of the larger rooms, sliding into one of the barstools. I raised a finger and the bartender- Barry- nodded. While my drink was being prepared, I looked around the room, humming to the rhythm of the classical piece that flowed through the room.

And choked.

Then promptly gagged, clawing for a napkin from the bar counter. When I finally obtained one and began to dabble spit off my lips, my eyes immediately returned to confirm that I wasn't hallucinating.

In a shadowed corner, Xavier- yes, the Xavier from work- stood slightly hunched, his forearm pinning a slender man against the wall. His head was bent, whispering into the ear of the man, whose eyes were glazed with rapture. I couldn't blame him.

Now, some context. I always knew Xavier was good looking. He was extremely fit and had a radiant smile. But in the Chandelier, against that wall?

Xavier looked fucking divine.

He was dressed in a sharply cut leather shrug top, layered over a sheer, mesh vest that left nothing to the imagination. The vest disappeared beneath his belt, which held up sleek, tapered leather pants that perfectly highlighted his toned butt. He wore a pair of boots that flowed with the shadows, ever pushing outwards as he gently spread the legs of the man pinned beneath him. I stared, transfixed, as he deftly unbuttoned the man's trousers and slid a hand down his crotch. The man moaned softly, melting against Xavier, who caught him and braced him against his broad, expansive shoulders, full of swells and dips that I wanted to simply bury my-

"Your drink, ma'am," someone said, causing me to blink. I broke out of my lascivious stupor and, feeling my face redden, spun around to face the bartender.

"Yes. Thanks." I pulled a note out of my purse. "Keep the change, Barry."

I took a small sip of my drink as I refocused my attention onto Xavier, and his defined muscles that rippled and flowed beneath the sheer vest as he slowly brought the man near the edge. He was mewling now, burying his face into Xavier's shoulder, trembling as Xavier planted soft kisses on his neck. Xavier continued, undeterred, methodically, sensually, until the poor man combusted, gasping as his legs collapsed beneath him and tremors wrecked his frame. Xavier tensed, the muscles around his core pulling taut like steel cables as he braced against the weight of the man. Only when the orgasmic bliss washed off did Xavier stop his ministrations and gently set the man down onto a couch, planting a final kiss on his lips. He pulled a small remote out of his pocket and set it in the man's hands, patted it, then strode over to the bar, where I ogled, and flashed me a brilliant smile.

"Hi," he said.

"Urgl?" I replied. "Uh, I mean, hi."

He chuckled. The same chuckle from work. "One whiskey and coke for me, one pina colada for the gentleman over there," he said to Barry, who nodded and began to prepare the drinks.

Then he turned back to me. I felt his gaze brush across my face, my torso, my legs and I involuntarily clenched my thighs, preventing an unsightly bulge from manifesting. A hot flush blossomed across my cheek and I tried to avert my gaze, but I was paralyzed. His eyes were magnetic, a ceaseless vacuum that sucked me-

"Do I know you?" Xavier asked, dragging me back to the present. I blinked, processing the words.

"Uh-" I was about to reply, before the situation suddenly set in. This was Xavier in front of me. Xavier from work. One of my close friends, who, sadly, could have been my friend only because he thought I was... normal.

It was as if Cupid discarded his bow and instead chucked a bucket of ice water at my face. "No, no, I don't think so."

Xavier smiled and offered a hand, then frowned. He quickly grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on the counter and began to wipe, then offered his hand again. "Sorry about that. My name's Xavier."

I grinned. "Astria. A pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure's all mine. You have the most striking brown eyes. Eerily similar to a close friend of mine's. I guess that's why I asked," Xavier said.

I arched an eyebrow. "Oh? It's not a rehearsed pick-up line?"

Xavier chuckled. That goddamned chuckle. "I swear, it isn't. But, if it was..." He leaned inwards. "Did it work?"

My already flushed cheeks flushed even further at that. "Um."

His smile widened. "You're so cute when you blush."

A feral need flared within me at that. If it wasn't for Barry serving the drinks at that moment, I might have pounced at him. Xavier paid, took both drinks, winked at me and walked back towards the man who had just descended back down from heaven.

"That guy is new," Barry said conversationally.

"Yeah, he is," I replied as I took another sip of my drink to calm down.

"You gonna have a go?" Barry asked.

I turned towards him with a faux-shocked expression on my face. "Barry!"

Barry shrugged. "If I wasn't on shift, I would."

"Okay, sir, calm down," I said. "Not the best strategy to fuck any stranger you come across."

"Not any stranger looks like that," Barry said pointedly.

I turned back to look at Xavier, who was sitting next to the man and caressing his cheek. Even in the dim light, I could make out his washboard abs, peeking out beneath the mesh vest that clung sensually to every curve of his torso.

Yeah, Barry was completely fucking correct.

"Hey Barry, you said you would fuck him off shift, right?" I asked distantly.

"Yup."

Well, I was off shift. And so was Xavier. And he didn't recognize me, which meant that our friendship at work could remain as it was even if it turned out this was just some repressed fetish he chose to indulge in occasionally. Nothing could happen if I prepared for the worst. Just a quick, lovely fuck.

Well, I had myself convinced. I knocked on the counter as I downed my drink. "Thanks for the advice, Barry."

Before I could leave my seat, Xavier was on his way back to the bar, drink in his hand. I cocked my head. "He's finished?"