The Rise of Rachel Price T-Girl Pt. 21

Chapter a visit from the Unicorn

Mimi's rebirthing party was originally scheduled for April the first, but no one thought any good would come of the idea. Mimi had originally asked if she could have a rebirthing party at the Asylum, but so much was still under construction there, Rachel switched it to suite 1441 at the Thornbury. At some point, Rachel ended up being the hostess for Mimi's bash. It had taken Rachel a few searches on Google before she found out what a rebirthing party was.

"It's a gathering of friends and well-wishers before undergoing gender reassignment surgery," the Urban Dictionary finally told her. Rachel then found out San Francisco was the home of the rebirthing party. She wasn't surprised. Generally, it was a place for friends and family to be supportive, and given Mimi had no family locally, she had called on her posse to be her new family. Having been quite the hit at the local sexual health clinic, Mimi had gained a number of fellow t-girls who really didn't need any excuse for a party.

Suite 1441 was dutifully decked out with plastic banners and balloons, and bows around pictures. It looked wonderfully outlandish and over the top. Mimi had turned up with her boy friend Mohammad, a boi, a couple of lady-boys (one from Ohio, the other from Canada), followed by a flood of friends and followers. Soon, Rachel was looking at the crowd, wondering if they should have gone for somewhere larger. It was mostly women, some cis, some trans, except for Peter, the personal trainer. Mohammad Mimi's CIS boyfriend stood around looking confused. Mimi had fallen in with a crowd of San Francisco trans-women. There were some gay friends with them. Charlie, Beth, and a few other cis women from the nail bar, spa, and around the Thornbury, and now the Asylum came too. The whole thing was getting out of hand like a massive hen party, and it was only four in the afternoon.

"How do you feel?" Rachel asked Mimi as she stood behind the bar, pouring some more drinks. Mimi staggered over. She had had slightly too much to drink and was harder to understand than usual.

"Hey, I'm losing a couple of pounds of dead flesh. I'm feeling gooood. Boyfriend loves it." Mimi said, looking over and waving at the man in the corner.

'Moham', as Mimi called him, looked around, smiling in a good-natured, but confused way. He looked as confused as Rachel felt. He tried to follow two very high-pitched conversations at the same time.

Mimi pointed at Rachel. "You good lady organizing this. You invite me now to your rebirth party. Your rebirth party very good. Me come, okay?"

Rachel looked up, worried. Her status wasn't up for discussion as the Mimi posse were insane gossips.

"Well, I'm not having one, so don't hold your breath," Rachel said, slightly seriously.

"Don't hold your breath?" Mimi said. "What is dat?"

Rachel paused. "Don't hold your breath. Don't expect it to happen. It's not going to happen," she explained.

"You're a funny lady," Mimi said.

Then Rachel realized something.

"Oh, I got you a card," she added, reaching down into her handbag.

"Yeah!" Mimi said, taking the card. "You're a nice lady. No one clocked you."

Rachel leaned forward. "Yeah, I never get this 'clocking' business."

All afternoon, the word 'clocking' had been bouncing from woman to woman like a ball on a beach volleyball team. Martina, a trans woman from a trans support group, stumbled over and jumped in.

"It means different things. If someone clocks Mimi, it means they guess about the crotch hardware which Miss Angel here is having removed," Martina said, pouring some more vodka in her glass. "If someone else has figured one out, then one has been clocked, or I've been clocked. But if someone clocks you or Charlie, then that's just checking out your asses."

Martina hadn't figured out that Rachel had a little secret. Or perhaps she did, and politeness or Levant's ruthless court cases about false rumors had put her off.

Rachel nodded. "So, did Moham clock you then?" she asked Mimi.

Martina leaned forward. "It's kinda rude if a CIS uses it. Sorry."

Rachel finished pouring the last drink. "No, I'm glad you told me. I don't want to offend anyone," she added, picking up the tray.

Martina leaned over. "So, why are you here?"

Rachel smiled. "I'm here as Mimi's biggest client," she said, waving her fingernails at Martina.

"Oh, you're Miss Four Coats," Martina said.

Rachel shrugged.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Rachel looked around and handed the drinks tray over to Charlie. Everyone was getting ready to start watching "The Danish Girl" on Netflix, so it was up to Rachel to answer the door. She was less nervous about being out in public now. Her face looked more and more feminine, and she looked convincing even without makeup these days. She could tone things down and not feel like anyone would spot her. However, the contract said she had to wear some even around the house.

A month with breasts hadn't cured her of the slight apprehension when she met someone new. Looking through the door's spy hole, she spotted a cycle courier with a large beard and cycle helmet.

Rachel opened the door. "Pick up for Mimi?" the cycle courier said, looking down on Rachel. His lycra-clad body was tall, thin, and lithe to the point of being painful.

"She's inside," Rachel said, pointing back with her thumb. "What are you picking up?"

The courier opened his satchel and pulled out a small sample bottle. "I'm from the Clinic."

"Oh!" Rachel said, looking at the sample bottle in his hand. "You better come inside. Oh, that wasn't me flirting. I meant that, literally. Oh, shit. In a non-sexual way. You get me."

There was a big wave of cheers as the courier came in.

"I'm sorry about this," Rachel said, throwing the plastic sample jar across the room to be caught by Mimi. Mimi got up and went to one of the bedrooms, followed by a couple of her close friends. Rachel got called away by one of Mimi's friends wanting somewhere to be sick. She came back into the room and stood with Charlie and Beth near the balcony. The room had calmed down while the Danish Girl was playing.

The cycle courier came up to Rachel. At first, this had freaked her out. Men would walk up to her and begin starting a conversation for no reason.

"Hi," said the courier.

"Do you want a drink while your waiting?" Rachel said.

The cycle courier shrugged. "No, unless you have water or something."

Rachel smiled. "Yeah, turns out the place has an unlimited supply. It's this modern American tech I think they called a faucet. That OK?"

The cycle courier shrugged. "Sure. I'm Dave, by the way."

That was also new. Men kept telling her their names for no reason. Rachel leant over the bar and pulled out a bottle of water from the ice bucket.

"I'm Rachel. Sorry about the show," Rachel said.

"Rebirthing party. Don't worry, I've done them before," the courier said, looking around at the host of giggling, semi-drunk women.

"Really?" said Rachel. "You do this a lot?"

The courier shrugged. "I think it's part of the deal now."

Rachel looked up. "You don't mind waiting? I could call you back when Mimi is ready."

Dave shifted his bag. "It's got to be, err... fresh," he said, now showing his Unicorn badge.

Rachel winced. The trans community and those aspiring to transition all knew about Unicorn. Unicorn wasn't its real name, but the logo for the clinic looked like a unicorn, and everyone called it that. Unicorn was San Francisco's prime sperm bank. People used it for all kinds of reasons. Rumour had it that NASA astronauts used it, as well as those undergoing chemotherapy. Mostly, it was highly favored among the trans community as one of the girls had called it. If you hoped for children at the end of your transition, living some version of happy after, then having a reliable store somewhere was a must. A visit to or from the Unicorn was shorthand for gender confirmation surgery.

"Sorry," the courier said, looking around.

Rachel looked out. "What are you looking at?"

Dave said, "Just checking out who is in which camp."

Rachel looked at Dave, "Mr. Dave, I do believe you're clocking my guests, which I am reliably informed is very rude."

Dave pulled on his beard. "Yeah, but I'm counting six and fifteen. Six cis. Am I right?"

Rachel did a head count, clocking the others. "Hmmm, not quite. I'm not sure who you are counting as cis?"

"Well, her obviously, her," he said, looking at Charlie, "her," he added, looking at Beth. "You obviously," he clocked off a couple more people in the room.

"What about her on the back row of the sofa?" Rachel asked. "She's really pretty."

Dave smiled. "Too pretty and in that pink, no way. A real woman wouldn't be that clumsy."

Rachel smiled and put the glass down. Ever since the trip to Paris, she had started to feel things. Cloth became incredibly rough. The plastic glass was almost oily. It was like someone had turned the volume knob of sensation in her fingers up to the maximum. She had noticed in the mirror every morning her skin became softer, and her face rounder. Rachel looked on at the crowd of women on the sofas around the TV set.

"So, how are you making this judgement?" she asked Dave. She was secretly pleased he hadn't spotted her.

Dave, the courier, looked over and said, "It's easy. They all want to be women. You and the others are just being women, like you. You aren't trying to be anything; you're not trying to be a woman. You are just who you are. That's how I can tell."

Rachel didn't know how she felt about that. She didn't feel she was a member of the transgender community. She didn't feel like a member of the male community either. The closest she could put it was that she felt like a spy in the Cold War of gender. She was behind the velvet curtain, discovering that things were simultaneously better and worse on the other side. She looked at the women before her; they were refugees hoping to escape the place where they were born to the other side. They were slaves to biology and gender, looking for freedom on their own Underground Railroad, which made Dave the next Levi Coffin.

Just then, one of Mimi's friends Victoria came out. "Can you give us a hand?" she said desperately to Rachel. Rachel thought she was being picked on because she was the only one not totally drunk.

Rachel went into the bedroom to find Mimi in tears on the bed. Her skirt was pulled up, and she was sitting there with her legs open and dick out, crying.

"What's up?" Rachel said, sitting on the bed.

"I no do it. It no working," Mimi said in tears as her friend Victoria left for the party.

Rachel looked at the empty bottle in Mimi's hands. She was worried in case Mimi would ask for Rachel to 'help' her. This seemed too weird.

"Look," said Mimi, pointing to her dick and breaking into tears. "It's broken."

"No, you've just drunk too much," Rachel said. "Do you want me to get Moham?"

Mimi looked down. "No, he no like it. He wants me to be a woman, you know." Her Thai accent was quite thick now. The drink was making it worse.

Rachel looked now and noticed Mimi's bulb head was pierced with a tiny silver chain attached. Rachel knew other t-girls did this for various reasons. The chain attached to another rear ring sometimes through the anus. When attached the dick was pulled tautly back. Some used it as an alternative to a gaff. Rachel had considered it but apparently it hurt badly if you got an errection. Which for everyone else was the point. Secret Agent Price had other priorities.

"So just send the unicorn guy away. Do it another day. It's not like you can't made other donations."

One of the other girls came over "it's bad luck. My friend Jane did that and she got a bad infection she had to stay in bed another three weeks after the operation. It was bound to go wrong she was a Sagittarius, very bad luck. The jar will be empty and everyone will see and know."

Jane left for more drinks leaving them alone.

Rachel say back "OK, I have a plan" she said. "I'll fill it. You tell everyone it's yours, and then when you're sober. Do another proper donation."

"Okay yeah. Its good. You do it." Mimi said.

Rachel lifted up her short skirt, and pulled down the gaff. Denver's dick huge between her legs. Laying back against the luscious soft pillows. She took Mimi's donation bottle and started to jerk herself off. With the hormones, it was getting harder. She kept going and got semi-hard. She realised this was harder than it looked.

"Let me help" Mimi said, sniffling then grabbing it.

Before Rachel could say "its OK". In Mimi's hands took over, the dick suddenly became much stiffer.

Rachel had accidentally discovered scenes like this all over the Asylum. The atmosphere was of one huge gay and lesbian ongoing orgy. The gardeners, the cleaners, the cooks, the guards, everyone could be found on occasion sucking each other off in the strangest of places. Rachel couldn't fire anyone as some knew her secret and might tell if they left angry. For Rachel this is something Charlie had done to her many times over and Mimi was very difficult to clock. It felt weirdly straight in Rachel's mind.

Naked straight out of the shower in the morning, Denver generally couldn't get very far. Rachel had to be made-up presentable, and in high heels, a bra, and stockings, to get anything like stiff. Rachel lay back and let Mimi drive; she closed her eyes and reached over and began massaging her nipples roughly. There was something about having the touch of the breast in her hand which helped.

Rachel felt stiffer under Mimi's attention. She had drunk more than she might admit. She thought about going upstairs and getting the vibrating butt plug in Charlie's room. They had used that with good results a couple of times.

"Keep going" Rachel said. She felt good but not close.

Mimi started with both hands. The pre-cum lubricated the experience. Rachel noticed Mimi's flaccid dick hanging down and looked away; that wasn't helping. Rachel closed her eyes, she thought of Charlie, then her mind switched to Levant, then Hunter, then Samantha and the image of the cycle courier somehow popped up. Rachel desperately tried not to think about the cycle courier but she was getting quite stiff. The images flicked past like someone holding their finger down on the 'next' channel on the remote. Mimi was getting faster and faster. Rachel managed to settle on Samantha but while she did Rachel thought about the vibrating butt plug up her ass. Something changed. Something wet was around her dick.

"Shit no" Rachel said as Mimi then bent down and began taking Rachel in her mouth. This was one of Charlie's tricks. Especially if she wanted Denver to take her from behind. It didn't take long for Mimi's transgressions to have the desired effect.

"Quick the bottle," Rachel said. Mimi had her hand on it pulled off and treated Denver's dick like a water hose.

The grey cum burst into the bottle. When done Rachel held the it, she looked at the cum. Not much, It looked like a reasonable quantity. Feeling something, Rachel looked down to see Mimi cleaning up Rachel's dick with her mouth.

"No stop! don't" Rachel said. Then handed over the bottle as a second flow happened.

"Good big sample. That's very lucky. Your cum tastes nice for a white girl." Mimi said, putting the lid on.

"That's a big sample." Rachel corrected. "'Good big doesn't' sound right. And it's tastes nice "

"OK, your cum tastes nice. You're good to me Miss Price" Mimi said.

in the Asylum all the servants called Rachel, Miss Price as a fig leaf of respectability. "When I am done, you should let me do you again, any time. As a thank you."

"Well done you got that right" Rachel said positively about the grammar. What was the world coming to when she had to be the grammar natzi? Rachel felt shameful about what had happened but tried to forget about it.

Rachel pulled her skirt down before Mimi's friend Victoria came in. Mimi held up the specimen jar. Next door Victoria walked out of to a girly cheer as she walked across the room to give the bottle to Dave.

Rachel emerged feeling a wave of guilt come over her. She must have been out of her mind to do that.

"You do, Charlie. When this meat gone" Mimi said, waving her flaccid dick "I'll be all girl. You can fuck me when you want as a thank you."

This made Rachel feel awkward. She got up and went to the sun chairs on the balcony outside. Where once the certainty between men and women had been was now filled with grey doubt. The contract was clear Rachel could fuck who she wanted. As a man she was used to being OK to sleeping with anyone. Charlie encouraged it. She complained that Denver couldn't do anything new or surprise her. Rachel had on a drunk occasion, slept with her nutritionist. Some how Mimi felt different. Rachel knew Mimi and the others would be very very offended if she spoke openly about it. She felt so hypocritical about everything nothing was right any more.

Mimi joined Rachel on the balcony of the bed room. Even up there you could smell that throat choking gasoline and exhaust smell you got when there was no wind over the bay.

"You OK?" Mimi asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Heat fucks with the foundation, you know" Rachel said quickly, changing the subject, "I have a question. Why did you hang around? I mean, the other girls went back you stayed. Why did they give you a job in the nail bar? "

It was odd that Rachel had thought they would have to do an entire Green Card application for her. That was a big cost for a nail girl. She had never really thought about it before now.

"Your boyfriend didn't tell you?" Mimi asked. Levant was always Rachel's "boyfriend."

"Some, but not all," Rachel lied. "Give me the dirty."

"Mr. Levant noticed the Russian, he likes me," Mimi said sipping another vodka and coke.

Rachel leaned in. "Petrov, yeah, I saw that. He was very hands-on. I got the same treatment."

"Well, after you won, your boyfriend came to me. He say if I go up suite with Mr Russian, I play with Mr Russian, I can stay, and he pay for everything."

"And you did?" Rachel asked.

Mimi giggled and Rachel joined in.

"Sure, I take lots of pictures of me sucking his dick with my phone. He thought it was sexy. I give them all to your boyfriend after. He very pleased."

Rachel's face was caught by the wind.

"He was very pleased. Did Petrov clock you?" Rachel asked.

"No, the last I saw of him, he wanted my number and said we should meet up tomorrow, but he never did," Mimi said. "Your boyfriend said I could work for him in domestic work. I cleaned up a lot and then got a job in a nail bar. He says he needs me around. Now I work for you. You're very nice lady. I love watching your dick when you fill bottle for me. Lovely lady dick. So nice. " Mimi said shyly, giggling.

Rachel cringed. "You're lucky it worked at all. It's about as reliable as a wet musket. Have you done anyone else for Douglas? "

Mimi shrugged "A couple, big fat guy. God guy. He asks me to do a policeman, but policeman says no. I no do any while I work for you. I'm good girl now. Happy girl." She added sipping again.

"Yeah, you do a great job," Rachel said.

Mimi was clearly very drunk, so drunk she sounded like a cliched parody of herself, "When me out of hospital, I teach you to suck dick like a good girl. I teach you very good. I very good. I was best girl in whole farang song. Then big boss very happy big boss, happy like Moham."

Rachel looked over. She wasn't sure how she felt about Levant blackmailing the very straight Russian with Mimi. Perhaps Hunter was right, but she tried not to care. Mimi was trapped by her desire for a Green Card and a future in the US. Rachel was trapped by her family's medical bills. She wondered if they were really that different. If she had kissed that middle manager on the competition might Levant asked her to black mail Petrov?