Working The Club Pt. 02

"Fran," she continued intensely, "most of these guys aren't here just because they like trannies. Yeah, some are. God bless 'em. Bless 'em because they're the easy ones. Some kissing, some cuddling, some fucking, coo nicely at 'em, and they're happy as they can be. And they're done in under an hour. But there's not many of those sort of guys here Fran. Guys like that can find all the tranny pussy they want outside of this club. The ones like that who are here must like the privacy, the classiness, and knowing there'll always be some knock-out hot trannie gurl around for them to fuck. And they must have more money than brains as they can get all that for a lot less somewhere else."

"No honey, there's quite a few guys who come here specifically for this." And she patted the caged bulge between Fran's legs to make her point. "Or at least what this'll be like if you're a Pussy Girl -- soft and limp. That's what they want. No, they're not gonna suck on it or lick it or play with it, sexually. It's the fact that your cock is reduced to just some fucking wet limp noodle. That's what turns them on. They get worked up knowing you've been castrated - chemically, physically, whatever. That you're no longer fully a man. That you've been 'emasculated.'" Val dragged out each syllable of the word. "That you couldn't cut it as a man and that you aren't worthy of being a woman. That you're an it." She cupped Fran's chin in her hand to lock Fran's eyes with hers. There was no cruelty in her voice but her words

were razor sharp.

"That's what those guys like Fran. That's why they come here. That's why this club exists. That's how Mr. D makes his money. That's how you'd make your money if you go that far. Those guys like playing with an EX-male who's very existence they see as an act of self-humiliation. That's what they think it is honey. That's how they view it. That's what turns their crank. That's why they'll pay so much to be here. It's to have some guy who's been reduced to a pathetically limp dicked cock sucking faggot in a dress that they can lord over. And," her grip tightened on Fran's face, "they will lord that over you honey. Count on it. There'll be some of the guys who make your limp little cock the centerpiece of their time with you babe. They will have you pull on it and stroke it and keep telling you to make it hard for them. And then they'll want to hear why you can't. They'll rub their big hard dicks - even if they're smaller than yours was before you got snipped -- all over yours. They'll have you try and pull your limp little thing out alongside theirs to see if it gets as big. And they'll be laughing at you when it doesn't."

"For them, honey, you're not some sex object to be lusted after because you're so womanly. You're not a woman to them - not even a 'woman with something extra.' They don't find you sexually attractive at all, Fran. And the fact that you're dressed up like a girl only gives 'em more things to laugh at you for. You're just some limp dicked failed man faggot in a dress."

Watching the emotions play across Fran's face, Val's voice softened as she continued.

"Fran, honey, I'm telling you this now - before - you go that far. If you can't take this coming from me then you won't be able to take it working here. The guy's who are that sadistic - who are that explicit about it and make their time with you being nothing but limp dick humiliation - they aren't all of the men or the women who come up here. But there's enough them, Fran, that you'd better be able to handle them and handle it coming from them. That you'd better be able to take that. You'd better be able to take that again and again. Because some of the guys truly get off on trying to push you Girls until you break. Until you start weeping and can't go on and run out of the room.

They're fucking sadists Fran. That's their particular kink. I think they're fucked in the head and should be locked up. But, that's not my call and, as they're also willing to pay what it takes to get up here, we're not gonna be calling any cops on 'em. And they know that if you don't make 'em happy then all they gotta do is complain about your 'lack of service' and that'll get you fired. You understand that babe? The Members, honey, have all the power here. All of it. You are just a toy for them to play with. And the worst of those guys are the ones who like playing the meanest up here" she poked Fran's forehead with her finger "and they play dirty up there honey. Real dirty."

Fran was beat red and sweating. This was not what she expected to be going through. Visions of near endless sex and pampering and glamour and femininity and being constantly lusted after were what she saw a Pussy Girl as having. That was why she'd been so eager to make herself into one. Fran hadn't thought of this side at all.

Val sat there, and took Fran's hands into her own. She'd been through this before. Plenty of times. All the Pussy Boys had to go through working upstairs as cleanup. It was yet another perk of being a Pussy Girl - they didn't have to pick up after themselves. The Pussy Boys were there to handle that. The Girls just had to keep looking pretty for the next client. And Val eventually gave The TALK to each and every one of the Pussy Boys.

Fran began sobbing. She tried stifling it but failed.

Val expected that too. She reached over and pulled Fran to her and wrapped her arms around her. "Let it out girl. Let it out. You didn't expect this. You didn't think it through. It's not all fun and fucking and pretty things to wear. This is work, honey. You gotta have the right focus to work up here, between your ears. Now, now, it's okay. It's okay. Yes. That's it." She let Fran work her way through the sobbing and reached out to bring a part of the bed sheet that wasn't splattered with lube or cum or spit or piss and wiped the tears on Fran's cheeks.

"Fran, babe, listen to me. Look at me honey. Look at me. Honey, if you can wrap your mind around all that. If you can keep yourself whole inside while those shitheads are trying to tear you down, then you can make yourself a very well off girl. Aside from those occasional sadists - the ones who like to shit inside your head - this place is actually a good place for a gurl to work. It's safe and protected and the money is really, really good. You square yourself away babe and you can make it all work for you. You will be the ones playing them and not the other way 'round. If they're the ones paying to 'debase' you then you're not really being debased to begin with, got it?" she asked tenderly. "Make a big, strong, steel walled box inside there babe," tapping Fran on her forehead again, "and put yourself inside it whenever these bastards are trying to do that to you. No, you can't retreat and go passive. They're not paying for that. But put what's good about you inside that box and know that they'll never get to that part. Do that, honey, and you'll do alright here as a Girl. Got that babe?"

Fran blotted her eyes and wiped her nose with the sheet. She had a lot to think about. And a lot to talk with her Mistress about. She nodded and wrapped her arms around Valerie. "Thank you. Thank you for telling me all that. I really didn't think about that. I'll be okay. Thanks." Fran said as she hugged Val tight.

"Good gurl. You'll be okay Fran. You just gotta be ready for it." Pushing herself up after Fran let go, "Okay, I think you can handle the rest of getting this room done. Now, get to it. I gotta go check on the other girls. You'll do alright sweetie. Now, go. Get to it!" Val said warmly as she swatted Fran on her butt.

Later, Fran was changing out of her housekeeping uniform downstairs in the Pussy Boys dressing room as the Club had finally closed up for the night. One of the other Boys, Greg - though it was "Greggie" on her name badge - who'd been a Boy longer than Fran, noticed her mopping about at shift's end. She recognized the signs.

"So, you got The TALK," she said coming up to Fran, noting how red and puffy Fran's eyes were from her crying.

"Yeah, I did," Fran mumbled, looking down as she pulled on her jeans.

"C'mere, babe," Gregg said as she wrapped her arms around Fran and gave her a much needed hug.

"Been there, done that too." Gregg continued. "Val's an old battle axe and I think she actually enjoys putting the Boys through it. Not that she's wrong honey. I've talked with enough of the Girls and have seen enough of it myself. But the Girls all tell me exactly what Val said was right. That if you can wrap your mind around it, you'll do okay. Oh, it won't be fun and the guys like that are still shitheads but, you'll get past it." Smiling, she hugged Fran again and Fran couldn't help but notice how big and soft Gregg's chest had become.

"At least that's what I keep telling myself honey!" Gregg laughed. "It's what's keeps me going. And I'm getting real close now. I know it! Have you seen these babies?" she asked pulling up her T-shirt and popping her hormone swollen chest out of her bra. Her sissy tits looked great to Fran. The areolas were so big and puffy. If Fran had been in a better mood she'd have happily suckled on them herself. Instead, she glumly took it as another reminder of how much further she had to go before she could become a Girl herself. And even if she did then she might wind up like Candi. Fran had a lot to think about on the drive home that night.

She'd done a lot of talking with her Mistress about what Val had said and some more crying about it too. Not all of that crying could be chalked up to the hormones either. But every night she kept working as a Pussy Boy she kept seeing all those Pussy Girls. Even knowing that some of the Members they were flirting with and being fondled by or mauled by might be that hurtful toward her, were she a Girl, still didn't take away the need within Fran. She did pay closer attention to the Girls as they came back downstairs from each session. She watched their faces more carefully and noted if they were happy stepping out of that elevator or not. Whether the smile was plastered on or not, almost all of the Girls seemed happy and eager to get back to working for their next private session. And if they could do it, Fran told herself, then so too could she.

All that was running through Fran's mind as the Club opened and she started her first night as a Pussy Girl. Some of the Members in her section were complimentary to Fran for being so promoted. That meant they'd their eyes on her even when she'd been but a Pussy Boy. Fran liked that and made sure to flirt with those Members especially. Fran also found that the fondling and mauling and "liberties" the Members took with her as a Girl were more frequent then when she was working the Gold Members as a Boy. They also seemed more intent than those from the Gold Members. These Members, Platinums all, knew that they could have Fran upstairs if they so wished. The Gold's never could.

There were always a number of Girls working at any one time. That way, enough of them could be working upstairs to still leave enough to cover the remaining tables in the Club. And having an abundance of feminized beauties mincing around also served to inspire the Members to get one of those Girls upstairs sooner than later. "It's all part of the plan! I always have enough of you sluts prancing around that it keeps the Members so turned on that they just have to have one of you. And the more they do that the more they pay!" Mr. D had told her one night, quite satisfied with himself about it.

Soon enough, about half an hour in to working her section, Fran felt a tap on her shoulder after having just filled the drink order for her table. She turned to see Jake standing behind her along with another Pussy Girl, Missy.

"Fran, time to go upstairs. Missy will take over here," he said, plainly. The two Girls smiled at each other as Fran handed missy her serving tray and turned to walk toward the elevator. She felt as if the eyes of the entire Club were on her. She turned and wasn't too disappointed that they weren't - but Sal's were. The big bartender had another of her panty wetting smiles on her face and gave Fran a big "thumbs up!" in encouragement. Fran was broken out of her reverie by a sharp slap on her ass. She turned to see it had come from one of the Platinum members sitting at the booth she'd paused by to look back.

"Go on Girl," the Member said, "you don't want to keep 'em waiting!" He laughed, Fran smiled, and he then turned back to his companions in the booth. They all had knowing smiles - if not leers - on their faces as they watched Fran mince the rest of her way to the elevator. Looking herself over in the elevator's floor to ceiling mirrors, Fran knew that this was going to be the start of everything she'd hoped for at the Pussy Galore.

Now she really was going to be working the club.