Change your direction

Becoming a female was cool, you literally signed up for that when you wrote the rules. But without the rule book in your hands you couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how your life was now at the whim of someone who, let’s face it, you don’t really know in this reality. You enjoyed your studies, you enjoyed college, and now it had been taken away from you just because your boyfriend had decided to mess with you.

Ash keeps scribbling in the rule book, with a heavy hand he marks the full stop to end the sentence as though to put an exclamation point on it.

You feel the world shift again for a moment, then normal, you wonder what he’s changed.

“There, all fixed,” he says, looking at you with a cheeky grin.

You look around your apartment, nothing perceptible has changed.

“What did you do?” You ask sheepishly.

“Nothing babe, just got you back into school and gave you a direction,” Ash continued smiling.

You feel your face flush with anger, “show me,” you demand.

He flicks the book around to show you.

**New Rule: Tammy Moar desperately wants to become a beautician and make up women and sissies to look like sluts.

**New Rule: Tammy Moar attends a Beauty School to become a beautician, she has all the skills to succeed but always fails her final exam no matter how hard she tries.

**New Rule: All Beauty Schools require students to sit a final exam, which must be passed to graduate. All beauticians require a Beauty School certificate to legally work.

**New Rule: Tammy Moar is **** to pass her final exam and will not stop trying, but due to repeated failure she has become a stripper to pay for repeat tuition costs.

**New Rule: Tammy Moar will feel no stress about her repeated exam failures.

You slowly read through the list, aside from changing the beauty industry’s entry requirements at the stroke of the pen he’s also single-handedly trapped you in a cycle of futility.

“What the fuck Ash? This reads like a form of purgatory!” You shriek at him.

“What do you mean? You said you liked college, and beauty school is a type of college, but it’s not an actual college or called a college, so looking like a bimbo as you do you’re able to attend it, so I got you back into school,” he argued calmly, his logic weaving.

“You said you were directionless, so I gave you some direction by wanting to complete your studies and get that job you always wanted,” he emphasized.

“Hell, I even gave you a way to pay for it,” he finished.

You want to argue back at him but the new rules prevent you from putting up much of a fight, you really want to become a beautician and pass the exam, and you find it in yourself wanting to keep trying to pass, but the stripper thing seemed unnecessary.

“Ash, why, if you have unlimited power in that book, did you make me start stripping to pay for school?” You ask.

“Well, you always used to say how much accomplishment you felt earning something, plus I figured it would be funny watching you shake your tits for money,” he quipped back. “It’s a pretty flimsy jumping off point, but who gives a shit, I can always change it,” he said waving the book in his hands.

Ash looked at his watch. “You better get moving, your next shift starts soon. I’ll drive you,” he said.

You collect your purse again and follow him back to his car, your tits and ass jiggling all the way down the stairs. This was going to be weird.

He drives like a maniac through the streets, narrowly missing other cars, but you quickly arrive at the closest strip club.

You can remember it being a run down hell hole, but looking at it now you couldn’t tell, the place looked like a palace. A parking lot with plenty of cars already there, a large door, a burly bouncer on the door wearing a suit, this was nothing like it used to be.

Ash parks up and accompanies you in. The bouncer on the door gives you a nod, “welcome back Tammy, have a good shift, and don’t forget to punch in.”

Ash trails in behind you before the bouncer stops him, “Ash, buddy, I keep telling you, until you marry this bitch you can’t get in on the family discount, you gotta pay the full cover charge.”

Ash seems annoyed, “can’t you just let me off this one time?”

“Sorry man, rules is rules, it’ll be $30,” the bouncer says matter of factly.

“Ugh, fine,” Ash says with his hand fishing in his pocket, eventually pulling out his rule book. He looks at you, spark in his eye, “let me write you a cheque,” he begins.

“Oh no, no cheques buddy, it’s a cash business,” the bouncer countered, though too late as Ash was already writing. Dotting the end of his new rule with a thud on the page.

The universe paused again, looking over at the bouncer I could now see a busty sissy standing in sky high heels wearing a green mankini, the material pulled taut over his body to the point that it may as well have been string, it dug into his enormous boobs creating the illusion of 4 tits. A tight chastity cage was visible through the material over his crotch.

“Sorry Ash you can go in, you’re always welcome here,” the newly minted sissy said, waving him on through.

Ash followed me in, finding a seat in the middle of the floor and watched me go off into the back. Similar to the coffee shop a line of sissies in various states of undress lined the walls waiting for a patron to call on them.

As I got to the back to get changed I was shocked to find one of those old school payroll punchcard machines. I found my name and put it in, hearing the machine whir and mark my entry time.

As I pulled it out one of the other girls walked in behind me, “hey Tammy, pay week this week thank god!” She was a brunette and stood about my height but with even larger tits than I had, she looked structurally unsound. She was in a low cut shirt, making her tits look even bigger with a pair of daisy dukes rounded out the look making her backside pop.

I looked back at her, “pay week? Huh? I thought we worked for tips?”

“Yeah, pay week. Girl, just because you look like a bimbo doesn’t mean you need to think like one, we haven’t had to work for tips since those clinics opened,” she said, insultingly.

It turned out that by changing the rule around sissies being used for sexual gratification strip clubs had employed them in great numbers and they had taken off in mainstream popularity. No longer were these establishments seen as sleazy places, now they were a far more reputable way to make a living. Girls working here no longer worked predominantly for tips but were paid a living wage as a salary. Patrons could sit and watch a woman dance and take her clothes off, all while getting his dick sucked by a sissy. Sissies it seemed were second class citizens in this world. One rule change had inadvertently changed the industry.

“Oh, right, pay week,” I managed through a **** smile.