This to Keep Me Quiet Ch. 02

Alan returned her smile but said nothing. Instead he stood and politely pulled out a chair for her. Michelle sat and Alan helped her settle into the chair and then he sat beside her.

"Are you going to buy me a drink Mister Black?" Michelle asked.

There were no waitresses in the club, the entertainers or the punters were expected to go to the bar themselves. Alan didn't want Michelle to go to the bar; not just yet anyway.

"You know my name is not Alan Black, don't you Michelle?" Alan grinned at her.

Michelle froze.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, quite shocked.

"One of the other girls told me," Alan replied and gripped Michelle's wrist tightly to prevent her leaving.

"But you know my real name is Alan Wright. I forgot to thank you for the cup of tea you bought me at the progress conference this morning. That was very nice of you," Alan's grin widened.

Michelle felt faint. She became lightheaded, her vision blurred, her heart was racing and she felt weak; close to losing consciousness.

Alan steadied her by putting his arm around her. Michelle had no choice but to lean into him to stop herself from collapsing, no matter how much he repulsed her. Not that Alan Wright was ugly, far from it; he was tall, handsome and well-built.

"You stay here Michelle; let me get the drinks," Alan said when Michelle was able to sit upright of her own volition.

"Gin and tonic right?" the question was rhetorical; Michelle was still unable to speak.

When Alan returned, carefully carrying a tray with four gin and tonics on it, some colour had returned to Michelle's face. He handed her a drink and she gulped at it. He offered her a cigarette and Michelle, who seldom smoked, nodded and accepted it.

"When did you know?" she whispered.

"I had a very fleeting suspicion last night but it was just passing, I think I just noticed a resemblance. Then this morning I noticed this and it clicked," Alan pointed to the heart-shaped birthmark on Michelle's neck.

Michelle flinched when Alan touched her flesh.

"Also you need to take more care when you remove your makeup, I noticed a skerrick of eyeliner at the meeting this morning and you still had a little glue on your fingernails," he nodded at her acrylics.

"You need to take more care what you keep in your desk drawers at work too," he took her empty glass from her and gave her the second drink.

"The heels," she whispered.

"And the tights, I think you might have even forgotten that they are there," he said and Michelle nodded.

"So now what? You turn me in to Stills and Shipley?" Michelle asked.

"They would probably want to know why you, a senior associate, was using a false name at a bar frequented by female impersonators," Michelle had gained some of her composure and she sipped her drink.

"Oh if I said anything to management about this I doubt they would be interested in anything you had to say," Alan countered.

"Anyway... let me tell you about a conference I attended in Manchester a little while ago. Well not so much the conference, that's boring, but what happened after is certainly not," Alan smiled.

Alan summarised his encounters with Carlotta, not going into specific details but leaving no doubt as to what had occurred.

"So I have developed a penchant for special ladies such as yourself," he finished his tale.

"That's all very interesting Alan but I'm not like that. I don't do those things but there are some here that do," Michelle countered.

"Yes that Pamela woman has already approached me," Alan conceded.

"Well there you go. No need to pester me then," Michelle tried to get up but Alan pushed her back down into her seat.

"But how convenient would it be for me having you at my beck and call. No more sneaking around venues like this. No more worrying about getting caught in a back alley or a cheap hotel with a lady of the night. You would be my concubine," Alan glared at her.

"I'll resign my position at Stills and Shipley. I'll quit. You'll have no hold over me," Michelle said angrily.

"You silly girl. Wherever you go I'll let them know about you. You're nothing but a glorified accountant and I'm a business executive. Who do you think they are going to believe?" Alan smiled wolfishly.

Michelle slumped in her seat defeated.

"Why me? You're a man of means. You can afford to pay for girls like me," Michelle pleaded.

"For all the reasons I've already stated. Besides; I meant what I said to you last night. I think you're beautiful. I know who you are under the makeup but I don't care. I don't see him; I only see Michelle," Alan attempted to take her hand.

Michelle tried to snatch it back but Alan held on to it.

"See it for what it is. Think of it as a complement. If I wasn't so sure that you would repel my advances I would never have taken this approach. But I want you Michelle and I usually get what I want and it's this Michelle; this to keep me quiet," Alan leaned in and tried to kiss her but Michelle turned away.

Alan squeezed her hand; not hard, just enough to let her know who was in control. Michelle relented and let him kiss her.

To her surprise he was tender, his lips softly caressing hers, no tongue and hardly any pressure.

"I'm going to give you the weekend to think it over. Let me know your decision on Monday."

Michelle was very surprised when Alan leaned in and kissed her on the cheek and stood up to leave. He dropped twenty pounds on the table and walked away without saying another word.

Michelle called in sick for her Saturday and Sunday shows at The Horseshoe and stayed home all weekend worried sick. What was she to do? Alan was right, if Michael quit Stills and Shipley, Alan would simply find out where he had moved to and tell them. He would poison the well. There were all sorts of consequences if Alan Wright outed her. Michael would lose the few friends he had now, he might even be evicted. Some people would consider him a pervert. It wasn't so much that he was a crossdresser; it was that he kept it secret.

The bold move would be to come out and live full-time as Michelle. He had considered it but working four nights a week at The Horseshoe Club would not pay the rent. He would have the same problem he had now; there was no financial institution in Britain that would hire a transvestite. Michelle would end up doing what most of the trans women in her situation did, turn to prostitution or pornography to make ends meet.

Melanie Starr lived as a homosexual man when not presenting as Melanie. She had a boyfriend and they were in a committed stable relationship. Bianca Delight had already undergone some reassignment surgery and was thinking of having the full suite and fully transitioning but she had a rich benefactor who liked her just the way she was. Off stage her name was Bianca Longmire and she got around without hardly ever being clocked and didn't give a shit if she occasionally was. She had a rich boyfriend to take care of her.

The more Michael thought about it the more he realised that his options were limited: be outed and lose his job and never find another job in the finance sector, take a low paid menial job where the fact that he was a closet transvestite didn't matter, become a prostitute or porn star or as a last resort he could possibly emigrate to another country.

The other problem was that Michael just loved being Michelle as much as Michelle loved performing. The Horseshoe Club was a little seedy but Michelle had hopes of working at a more respectable, better-paying venues.

Michael called Barry Culpepper and told him that Michelle was feeling better and would be there for the Sunday matinee. Michelle came out of the dressing room on Sunday evening and sat at the bar nursing a drink waiting for the club to open. She thought about what she had decided to do. After ruminating on the problem all day Saturday and Sunday she realised that she was worrying too much about the future when all she had deal with was the present.

If she just gave Alan Wright what he wanted she could keep her job at Stills and Shipley and she could keep working here at the Horseshoe. She would just have to be his... what had he called her... his concubine, available to him at his beck and call.

Was it really any different to Pamela Sanderson letting drunken men fuck her up against the wall outside the club or taking her to some cheap hovel to molest her for money? Was it any different to Sophie Tart who worked as a high-class trans call-girl, selling her arse to the middle classes? For that matter was it really any different to Bianca Delight who for all intents and purposes was a kept woman who only performed at The Horseshoe because she fancied herself a diva?

Most of the girls were using their sexuality in one form or another to get by.

Michelle put on one of her best performances that night and even Barry Culpepper came out of his office to watch and listen to her. She had made up her mind and was finally free of worry and indecision. She was clearheaded and resolved and concentrated only on giving her best performance.

On Monday Michael Tanner deliberately kept out of the way of Alan Wright. Alan could have approached Michael at any time during the day but of course he didn't and Michael figured that Alan was enjoying making him sweat. What Alan didn't know was that Michael wasn't sweating. He was quite serene. He waited for Alan to go out to lunch and entered his office and dropped a bulky plain white envelope of the desk on which was written Alan Wright - Personal.

Alan came back from lunch and settled at his desk. If he went to his door he could lean out and see the back of Michael Tanner's head where he worked in his cubicle. But he didn't want to think of Michael, he only wanted to think of Michelle and when he saw the letter on his desk he figured that it contained the response to his ultimatum.

Alan closed and locked the door to his office and settled in behind his desk and opened the letter.

Michelle's writing was flowing and elegant, just as he expected. When he opened the envelope he could smell a scintilla of her perfume and wondered if it was deliberate or if it had merely transferred from her body when she had sat down to write the letter.

Alan,

You place me in an unenviable position with no other suitable course of action but to acquiesce to your proposal. You will note that I didn't use the words 'your demands' as I think that even though what you propose is boorish and narcissistic, you yourself are not. I have given it a lot of thought and I suppose I should be flattered that you are so obsessed with me that you are prepared to go to these lengths to appease your desires.

I am yours with the following caveats:

The relationship exists solely between Michelle Tanner and Alan Wright; Michael Tanner acts only as an intermediary and only when absolutely necessary,

You only ever make advances to Michelle, never to Michael,

We meet discreetly and we keep our relationship secret,

You treat me with respect and I will do likewise,

Any costs that arise during this relationship are borne by you, and

I can continue to work as a performer at The Horseshoe Club or any other suitable venue of my choosing.

If these terms are not suitable to you, enclosed in the second envelope is my resignation from the firm of Stills and Shipley and I will await any other consequences that might ensue.

If these terms are suitable I will meet you tonight at my flat tonight at 8pm, my address is contained inside the third envelope.

Michelle

Beneath her signature, Michelle had placed a red-lipsticked kiss. At first she had thought the gesture might be silly or passé but then she thought that it would convince Alan that she was sincere.

Alan smiled at the red-lipsticked kiss and casually ripped up the envelope containing Michael Tanner's resignation and dropped the pieces in the bin. He pocketed the letter that contained Michelle's address and sat back down to read the letter again. It was not the response that he expected.

When he reread the letter he went to his office door and once again glanced over at Michael Tanner's cubicle but he wasn't there. He called an associate who worked with Michael on one of the investment funds over which Alan had oversight and asked for an update on the acquisition of a stock portfolio and was advised that Michael had gone home for the day.

"I can call him at home and have him come back to work," the associate advised.

"That won't be necessary," Alan replied and hung up.

He sat back down and read the letter again, amazed at Michelle's honesty and fortitude. He thought about what he had done; how he had pursued her and blackmailed her. He wanted Michelle, he wanted her unlike any other woman, trans or otherwise, that he had ever met. Alan thought long and hard about it. He worked late and at seven thirty he set his resolve and opened the third envelope.

Alan pulled up across the road from Michelle's flat. It was a nondescript small redbrick walk-up, there was light peeking from behind the curtain, it was subdued and tinged pink. Alan locked his late model BMW and pulled up his collar against the icy wind, he walked across the road which was quiet and deserted. He pressed the doorbell and stood with his arms crossed trying to keep warm. He was so nervous that he had forgotten to put on his overcoat.

Alan heard the click-clack of Michelle's heels on the floor and his heart raced as she fumbled with the lock and opened the door.

She was beautiful.

Michelle moved aside so he could enter and closed the door, he followed her into the small reception room which was heated by an open fire. A fine red scarf had been draped across the single lamp infusing the room with a rose coloured hue. The room was intimate, warm and inviting; the scent of Michelle's perfume lingered in the air, on a silver tray on a side table was a bottle of Beefeater gin, four small bottles of Britvic tonic water and two cut-crystal glasses.

Michelle made her way over to the table without a word and began to pour drinks.

She was wearing the same ensemble she had worn when he first saw her on the stage at The Horseshoe: an off the shoulder red sheath, the sequins on the bodice sparkled in the subdued light; the thigh-high split displayed her long legs, sheathed in what appeared to be fully-fashioned stockings. He could see the seams running perfectly straight up the back of her legs and the shadow-welt at the top of her stocking was visible whenever the split in her dress opened. She was wearing her red six-inch 'stage heels' to complement the dress but the blonde wig was not in evidence. Instead her own brunette hair was perfectly coiffed in a Veronica Lake side part with waves cascading to her shoulders, the fringe partly covering her right eye. She had obviously gone to considerable effort.

Her makeup was considered, perfect for the light: red lipstick on her full lips, pink blush to highlight her sculpted cheekbones and dark eye makeup to accent her emerald-green eyes.

When Michelle had sat down earlier in the evening to get ready for tonight she had churlishly thought of presenting a clumsy version of herself with an awful wig, overdone makeup, laddered tights, scuffed heels and a dowdy dress. But she quickly discounted the idea as petulant. If she was going to suffer the indignity of being nothing more than a concubine then she would do so gracefully and be true to herself.

Michelle offered Alan his drink and sat on the couch patting the cushion beside her, inviting him to sit. She demurely closed the split in her dress and crossed her ankles. They both took a long pull on their drinks.

Neither had said a word since Michelle had invited Alan inside.

Michelle set her resolve and took a deep breath and was about to speak when Alan put a finger to her lips to silence her. He put down his drink, turned to face her and gently took both her hands in his.

"I have read your response to my proposal, as you put it. I have spent most of the afternoon and this evening considering it," Alan began; he was looking down at her hands, studying her elegant fingers and her bright red fingernails.

"I am deeply sorry to say that I decline," Alan sighed.

Michelle was instantly alarmed and tried to interject but Alan once again put a finger to her lips to silence her.

"I know nothing of you except what I saw on stage at The Horseshoe Club where I became instantly infatuated with you. You are beautiful and talented and I find you incredibly desirable. And because I know who and what you are under the lipstick and powder, as you so eloquently described it the first night I met you, that makes you more desirable to me not less."

"I wanted you. I dreamed of you. I couldn't get you out of my mind and because you were unattainable I wanted you more."

"But... what you wrote is true. What I proposed... no what I did, was boorish and narcissistic. I have behaved reprehensibly and you have been so demure and decent, even when I threatened to ruin your life."

"I know I could make you my chattel, a victim of my desire, trapped, scared and disgusted with what I make you do."

"I despise myself for even contemplating the thought."

"I came here tonight to say I'm sorry. I'm desperately sorry about what I put you through. I'll leave you in peace, your employment is safe, there will be no retribution, no disclosure, your secret is safe."

"I know you despise me and I deserve it. I just ask that I might be able to come and see you perform at The Horseshoe now and then. I won't pester you. You won't even know I'm there; I'll slip in and out quietly while you are on stage," Alan took a deep breath and let go of Michelle's hands.

Michelle nodded and sat quietly, trying to assimilate what Alan had said.

Alan stood up and briefly considered Michelle who sat head bowed and silent.

He left the room and made his way down the hall to the front door and put his hand on the latch, ready to open the door and step out into the night. His breathing was erratic and his head filled with white noise.

Alan felt Michelle's hand on his shoulder.

He turned and she leaned into him and kissed him.

The kiss was soft, her lips warm and pliant. He wanted to pull her close, to kiss her passionately, to feel her soft body pressed against his but he resisted the temptation.

So Michelle did it for him. She pressed herself against his hard body and slipped her tongue into his mouth and kissed him passionately. She raised a leg and hooked it around his as she pushed him against the wall. When his hand went to her buttocks she gasped into his mouth and kissed him harder.

They kissed for a few endless minutes and then Michelle led Alan back to the lounge and sat him down beside her.

"Now I would like to respond to what you just said," Michelle began.

"You are right in that you know nothing of me other than what you have seen at The Horseshoe Club. I told you that I don't do what some of the girls do at the club and that my sexuality is not linked to my presenting as Michelle."

"That isn't quite true. In the past there were a couple incidents where Michelle has engaged in sexual relations; I'm not going to go into detail so please don't ask. What is relevant is that since then I have suppressed my sexuality despite my desires."

"I spent the weekend thinking things over and delving deeply into my psyche. I realised that I actually like men finding me desirable and if I'm honest with myself, there have been some men who I also found desirable but because of a promise I made to myself years ago I refused to even contemplate fulfilling those desires."

"Your ultimatum became my way out; a pretext for me to break my vows if you will. My response to your proposal was nothing more than a way for me to justify reneging on the promise I made to myself to remain celibate."