Working The Club Pt. 01

Working The Club

The Pussy Galore Club is a unique place with a unique clientele and an equally unique staff. It takes a lot to get into the Club and it takes even more to succeed at the Pussy Galore Club. To become more there a gurl has to become... less first.

This is the tale of a one gurl who is determined to go from being a mere Pussy Boy at the Pussy Galore Club to being a Pussy Girl. Would you be willing to do as much?

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Fran felt the strap of her thong panties press against the plug in her rear. "They don't call it dental floss for the ass" she thought to herself as she moved through the crowd in the club. Dressed in a black with platinum trim, frilly, clingy, and oh-so-revealing little cocktail waitress uniform, she minced in her high heels toward the men and women at their tables. She had a tray with their drink orders perched atop her left hand while her right hand was planted on her swaying hips. She moved smoothly in her heels thanks to lots of practice in them with her Mistress and with all the shifts she'd worked there at the "Pussy Galore" club.

It was an exclusive club for an exclusive and "discerning" clientele. A clientele that truly appreciated gurls like the ones writhing around up on the stage. And it was a crowd that was also appreciative of gurls like Fran down there working the tables and booths. For Fran, this was a dream job come true. She reminded herself of that as she threaded her way between the tables up by the front of the stage. Her fishnet clad ass was barely covered by the skirt of her uniform. Her heels, thankfully not platforms but regular stilettos - if five inch heeled stilettos could be called regular - pushed her up to well over six feet in height. And they raised her crotch to almost face height among the men and women sitting at those tables. A fact that did not go unnoticed by the crowd.

Their hands were quite free with her as she minced and swayed her way through them toward her customers. This wasn't something she had to put up with. It wasn't something she was forced to endure. Quite the contrary, she loved it! Being groped and felt up and pinched by all the horny men - and women - there at the club was a major turn on for Fran. And as the night wore on it just got worse - or better, actually.

As the drinks flowed and the entertainment up on stage worked its magic on the audience at the tables, those hands reaching for Fran got ever more forward. Instead of the quick little "copping a feel" or casually resting on her curves as she bent over to take their orders there was then more firm grabbing and squeezing. It made Fran's sissy stick tingle wonderfully there in her chastity cage and its drooling made those little panties get wet and sticky.

She finally reached the table with her latest drink order and quickly had the beverages off of her tray and into the waiting hands of the men around the table. One of the men, this one in a dark gray business suit, beckoned her over and tried talking to her. But, he only was speaking in a voice too low for her to hear over the music up on stage. Fran knew this game and happily played it. The tips were better the more compliant she was, she really did love being so objectified, and she knew that playing their little games could get her very lucky as the night wore on.

So, Fran happily minced over to the man and made a show of bending over - bending at the waist, of course - to hear him better. She arched her back and press her cheeks together firmly. She knew that from that angle the fleshy cleavage her budding sissy tits had was showing as nicely as she could. With her freshly glossed and nicely puckered lips she responded, in her best breathless girlish voice, "Yes sir? How can I be of service to you?" and finished her question with a quick lick of those plumped lips. Her tips last month not only paid for more electrolysis but also for another round of collagen to give those lips just the right plumping. All the "girlie juice" hormone shots and pills however, came out of her base salary.

Sure enough, while the gray suited man was asking her about who else was scheduled to perform that night - as if he didn't know already, she felt the hands of the man next to him begin running over her tight little ass. Fran sighed and bit her lip in pleasure. The gray suited man chuckled. "You're quite the horny little bitch, aren't you?" he mocked.

"Um.. ooo.... uh, yes sir! Always!" Fran gushed.

Up on stage, "Insatiable Suzy" had just finished her strip tease and was now writhing on the huge dildo mounted to the stage floor. Her sissy stick, too limp from all the girlie juice she'd been on to now still be called a cock, bounced around enticingly as she bounced around getting more of that dildo into her. The diamond set into the Prince Albert ring that pierced the end of her sissy stick glittered nicely in the stage lights. Suzy was very distracting and Fran would've loved to have just stood there to be distracted as well. But, Fran had a job to do and as much as Suzy was a role model to Fran and the other gurls there at the Pussy Galore, Fran knew that if she wanted to become a glorious and glamorous sissy like Suzy then she had to keep those tips coming, and had to keep her customers happy. So, she focused on the man in front of her.

"Oh, what's wrong girl?" he continued mocking. "Is Steve there behind you doing something that's got your attention and not me here in front of you? Here, let me help balance that out a bit," he said as he reached for her nipples through her uniform dress. Thanks to the hormones and the regular suction sessions and her Mistress's attentions, Fran's nipples had truly blossomed. Thankfully her titties had now puffed up nearly as much. Still though, her nipples were wonderfully sensitive and felt great to have them manhandled. Manhandled just like the gray suited man was now doing.

"Mmm... that's right girl. You like that don't you? You like having men play with your titties, don't you? They're lovely little things now. Pretty soon you'll be getting implants just like all good sissies want, right girl?" He smirked, giving my nips a harsh twist.

"Ow! Ohh... Sir!!!" Fran moaned in mock outrage. The customers love hearing the gurls "protest" their plight. He was right though, Fran really did want bigger titties. But those things cost. They cost big bucks if you wanted them done right. Even with the three different plastic surgeons the Club had special deals with, boob jobs still cost a gurl a lot of money. So, Fran knew she'd have to work at it, hard, to get such boobs on her chest.

In the meantime, the man caressing Fran's ass had moved on to other things - her balls. Steve's hand traveled between Fran's legs and quickly found her tightly packed packaged. The chastity tube kept Fran's cock nicely locked away but her balls swung freely under her skirt. Smooth and hairless and only recently beginning to show the effects of all the chemicals Fran doused herself with. Her Mistress had selected panties that were barely big enough to cover the chastity cage and if Fran tried keeping her nuts covered the seams of the panties would cut into them and between her cheeks as well. Besides, letting her balls swing about under the skirt felt wonderful as they rubbed against her nylons. That and the customers always liked playing with her little package. Steve certainly did.

"Yeah, she's still got a pair but she's going commando!" he announced to the other men at the table as he flipped up Fran's skirt. Fran tried to stand up and make more of a show protesting Steve's being so forward but the gray suited man hadn't let go of Fran's nipples so she was "stuck" in her predicament.

Still holding on to one of her nipples he reached into his jacket pocket and took out his wallet. Flipping it open on the table he pulled a bill and made a show of folding it in front of her. All the while tweaking her nipple. "Here you go girl, here's a tip to help you get big titties like a real sissy gurl should have," he said, sneeringly, as he stuffed the bill between her fleshy cleavage. "Now, why don't you thank Steve there for being so gentle with you." The gray suited man said as he used his grip on her nipple to spin Fran toward Steve behind her.

Fran stood up fully once the gray suited man's fingers unclenched her tit and made a show of fluffing her skit back into position as she turned to face Steve. Fran then made a show of bending forward, at the waist again, to bring her face close to Steve's. "Ooo.... Sir," Fran breathed throatily at Steve, "thank you ever so much for that. I love it when a real man touches me down there!"

Fran had barely gotten those words out of her pretty little mouth when the gray suited man had flipped Fran's skirt back up and took hold of Fran's ball sack - only he wasn't as gentle as Steve. "Ow!!!" Fran yelped as the gray suited man squeezed his fist around Fran's balls. Pulling down firmly on Fran's trapped nuts, the man then smacked Fran's exposed ass. Then he pushed Fran over and down. Fran tottered on her heels and fell forward with her face winding up right between Steve's opened legs. Only his having quickly reached up and gotten a grip on her nipples slowed the impact from being hurtful to either of them. Through the fabric of Steve's pants Fran could feel the hardness of his cock against her face. That turned her on. And she wanted to fish that cock out from behind those pants and wrap her lips upon it.

"Oh my!" said Steve with feigned surprise. "She's a hungry one. Why I'll bet she wants to such on my cock right here and now!"

Before she could reply, the gray suited man had found Fran's butt plug. Being one of the polished metal with a large blue glass "jewel" set in its end, the plug was hard to miss. It did give her a nice wiggle in her walk when she wore it though. Never letting go of her nuts, the gray suited man began thumping on the plug knowing full well what effect it would have on Fran's prostate. Fran began trying to pull herself up

from Steve's crotch - but wasn't trying too hard as she really did want to suck on that piece of meat hardening against her cheek. She looked up at Steve with lust clearly in her eyes.

"Oh, yes SIR! I really would like that. But... you know the rules Sir. Why, I'd get fired for sure if I tried that out here!" Fran said apologetically. Steve laughed and took out his wallet, pulling out a bill of his own he also pushed it down between her burgeoning sissy titties.

"Yeah, and we'd get kicked out as well. So, here you go there sweet cheeks," he said, giving her titties a nice squeeze as he pushed the bill deeper. "Here's a Twenty for the thought!"

Fran smiled brightly and, as the gray suited man finally let go of her nuts, she leaned forward and gave Steve a quick little kiss on his cheek. "I'll be available after One sir." Fran whispered into his ear and then she was back and off to serve the next table. Her ass still stinging a big from where the grey suited man had spanked her.

Tellingly, the show up on stage was so enticing and the antics between the other Pussy Gurls and the audience was so commonplace, that even the crowd at the next table seemed to be completely unaware of what Fran had just been through when she minced over to them to get their drink order. Although, as she stood there writing their orders all down she felt another hand roaming up between her cheeks. When she felt some sharp but light scraping of her smooth and hairless nuts she immediately realized it was one of the women at the table next to her who was getting a feel for Fran.

Fran was always of mixed mind about the women who came to the Pussy Galore. Yes, most of the men took great pleasure in being pretty crude in their lechery toward the gurls on the floor. And most of the women who turned up were of the type who actually cherished little sissy things like Fran. But some of those ladies could be even more wicked than the worst of the guys! They really seemed to get off on trying to humiliate the gurls like Fran for having become so emasculated. There were times though, that Fran really got turned on by how nasty some of those women could be. That was, after all, how Fran got to this point.

He'd been casually dressing until he met the lady who would eventually become his Mistress. She had just the right mix of cherishing and nastiness that made Fran's cock get oh-so-very hard. He was soon putty in her hands and it was she who told him about the Pussy Galore. She was also the one who had the key to the pretty collar around Fran's neck. Fran loved the idea of being so owned by such a demanding yet loving Mistress. Especially one who enjoyed watching Fran being so objectified and crudely handled out on the floor.

There were nights when she would come in to the club but sit back up at the bar so she could watch Fran as she worked her tables. Those nights could be very difficult for Fran because it wouldn't take long with the guys fondling her, pulling on her nuts under her skirt, playing with her titties or just generally manhandling her, and then Fran's Mistress would pounce on her once she got back to the bar. She'd drag Fran off to one of the stock rooms in back and have Fran down between her legs to put her tongue to the dripping wetness her being worked over had worked up. Oh how Fran loved that even if it meant her cock was screaming in agony as it tried to get hard in that cage. Then she'd have to scamper back to the bar and try and make up time with her drink orders. Most of the customers just laughed at her predicament. That is, if they weren't otherwise distracted by the acts up on stage enough to notice her Mistress's juices glistening Fran's cheeks and lips or the glazed lust look in her eyes. Yes, those nights could be so very difficult.

But now Fran was finally a "Pussy Girl" and not just a mere Pussy Boy and that meant a big difference in what she could expect at the Pussy Galore. She'd been looking forward to that change from the time the Club's owner first explained it to her during his interview. "Mr. D" - or Daddy D or Big D or Mister Dawson or just plain Sir - had been real specific and demanding in that interview. Fran had arrived with her Mistress at the Club late one afternoon. After she and Mr. D greeted each other and she introduced Fran to her potential new boss, her Mistress had stepped out of the room. Apparently Mr. Dawson wanted full and unhindered access during his examination.

"Strip," was his command the moment she'd left the room. Fran's Mistress had warned her to be as quickly compliant with Mr. D no matter what he demanded. So, quickly enough Fran was down to her bra, panties, garters, hose and heels. "And the rest. All of it. Now."

Standing naked before so commanding a presence turned Fran on and she was only somewhat embarrassed to show it. She coyly tucked her chin and looked up and Mr. D through her nicely done eyelashes.

"Head up, hands by your sides." He barked. Fran complied. Mr. D then began walking around Fran and examining the goods.

"Hmm..." he mused, "a bit thick in the middle but some corseting will take care of that initially. You'd have to start shedding some serious weight though if you want to last here. And this," he said grabbing Fran's cock harshly, "will be quite a problem no matter what."

Fran actually whimpered a bit with how hard Mr. D was squeezing her penis. He let go of Fran's it and brought his hand up to Fran's lips. She guessed quickly and began licking off the precum that had rubbed off on to Mr. D's hand while he crushed her shaft. With his other hand, Mr. D began poking and squeezing Fran's chest.

"You're not on the juice," he said, more as a statement than a question.

"No Sir, not yet. But..." Fran quickly answered. Mr. D waved her silent and paced around her some more. He paused behind her and then smacked Fran's ass - hard. Fran yelped in surprise but forced herself to stay in place. Mr. D then strode over to his desk and sat down in his big leather executive chair.

"Alright, let me lay this out for you. The Pussy Galore club is a very particular place. It's not like any other club - not like any of the tranny bars you've been to. The clientele here are very particular and have very specific tastes. They don't want women. They don't even want post-op trannies. They can go elsewhere for that. That don't want shemales either. No 'chicks with hard dicks.' What they want -- and what I charge a very pretty penny for - are limp dicked sissies. No, not the pink ruffles and baby outfits sissies. But smokin' hot, big titted, sultry, soft, and submissive sissy fucktoys.

So, just being some guy in a dress won't cut it. Sorry Fran, cute as you are, if you stay that way, you won't last here. No, what my customer's come here for are feminized sissies - emasculated males. Former men. Not pretty boys. Not cute guys who put on the panties and stuff toilet paper into their wife's bra when she's out of town so they can sashay around their living rooms with the blinds drawn. No, they want sissified men. Men who've been so long on the juice that their cocks become just limp little noodles of flesh and are just overgrown clits, really. This goes for the men and for the women who come here.

That you've still got that hard on tells me you either really want to become like that or that you're just too dumb a fuck to get what I just said. So, which is it bitch?"

Fran got it. Oh did she ever get it. This really was a fantasy come true for her. She'd dabbled and circled around the idea but had never been anywhere that she could have brought it all together like this. "Yes Sir." She made sure the emphasis on "Sir" was clear in her voice. "I want this. I've dreamed of it Sir. I do, I'll be..."

"You'll be what I tell you you'll be." Mr. D cut in. He held all the cards here and was clearly enjoying being so domineering of the wannabe gurl in front of him. "It's a tall order to start off with. So, we do let TVs start working here - as Pussy Boys. You gotta be real good though at being en femme and girly. But you'll also be down at the bottom of the entire pecking order. It's the full-on sissies -- the Pussy Girls - who make me the most money here - and it's the Girls who make the most for themselves as well.

My club runs as a membership only place and it costs - a lot - even to get through the door. That's just the basic membership though. Being a Gold member gets you in. In to the lounge and free drinks from the bar. All you want of that. You can come in and sit down at a table or booth and take in our shows and play with the waitresses all you want. Slap and tickle stuff - no sex. Period. Not for a Gold Member. And not for a Pussy Boy either. That's where you'd start Fran, as a Pussy Boy."

"Pussy Boys are the ones who slop the drinks and keep the customers happy in the lounge. Your cock will be locked up and your ass plugged While you're on duty. The more anxious you are to serve the better. The more you encourage the clients to treat you like the piece of meat you're there to be, the better. The other gurls, the Pussy Gurls, they're the ones who we allow the Platinum Members to have. They're the ones that get to unlock the cages around the Pussy Gurls' limp little sissy stick dicks and unplug their sissy asses. They're the ones who get to go up to the Platinum Level private rooms when a Platinum Level member picks them. You getting this, bitch?" Mr. D was clearly reveling in how clever his set up was and Fran wasn't stupid enough to get in the way of it. So she just nodded yes.

"And that's the beauty of it. This isn't some whorehouse. The Members aren't paying for sex they're paying for access to the Club and, if they pay enough, for access to the Private Rooms. And you're not getting paid to fuck them, you're getting paid to entertain them in those rooms. No cash, aside from tips, changes hands. It's all included in their different levels of Membership. And you get paid a flat rate per each client you entertain. Is that clear, Fran?" His voice was almost sneering at her.