To the strip club

You've made the decision late last night – now that you got the eight pm shift and are arguably the club’s best and most popular dancer you focus on your career. All other daily commitments are cancelled, you are now a full time dancer. The gemstone glows warm as you enter the club. Stripper is apparently a path on the way to explore your female side it can condone. You enter the changing room and hug your new best friend, Candy kisses you on the mouth and starts talking like a waterfall. She’s back in her real shift and happy about it now that you got promoted to it, too. You smile, listening and watching the other dancers. New faces, but they all seem friendly. You guess stories about you have been told. The girl who got an offer for an escort job on day two, but prefers to make a living as a dancer. You really couldn’t care less if it impresses your fellow strippers or makes them think you're stupid to miss the opportunity. You take a seat in front of the big mirror check our make up and pout on your costume. You got some time, chat with Candy, get to know some of the other girls, before your first song plays and your name is called by the announcer.

You walk up on stage exhilarated, hyped, not a trace of nervousness left. You are on top of your game, you're a star, you're a goddess and the men in the audience throwing their money at you are here to serve and worship you, whether they know it or not. As you drop your clothes, you do notice the banknotes on the stage are definitely bigger. They weren't lying the eight pm shift is profitable.

A 50 is out between your legs as you do what you by now consider your signature move at the end kneel down spread your legs and bend back presenting your glistening wet pussy to a man you made out as generous during your dance. You smile at him and collect your money - it paid to dance to him, he’s ordering you for a lap-dance and gives you a 20 as tip for that after you pushed your tits in his face and your juicy pussy on his crotch made him jizz in his pants after three minutes.

Putting away your money in your locker you watch Candy walk out on stage. She does well, the crowd is hyped by your dance and when she comes back she presses her tit against you in a friendly hug – she noticed what you did to the men.

You have two more dances that go smoothly and profitably. But shortly before its time for your third, a commotion ensues in the dimly lit audience.

A black man with a sizeable entourage enters. He dresses like a Christmas tree, fur coat, gold rimmed sunglasses – he can't see shit in this light, you're sure. Gold chains dangling all over. His companions, two huge men, one black, one white with the unmistakable aura of "bodyguard" and four white women, dressed like they want to join the dances on stage at any moment.

“Who the fuck is that?”

Candy, standing in the doorway to the backstage area, looks at you.

“You don't know Little Big Dickey?”

Her expression is bewildered.

“Little Big… whatnow?”

“He won three Grammys this year! 'Honey for hoes' is the greatest album of all times!”

You look at her. She seems to be a fan.

“So… a rapper?”

“THE rapper!”

“OK, OK, he’s a big deal. Sorry, I admit I haven’t really followed music for some years…. Somehow when I turned 20 nobody seems to make anything good any more… How do all these celebrities end in this joint anyway?”

She snickers.

"The boss knows how to keep secrets, we are JUST sleazy enough to make the feel naughty but not enough to be dangerous. And once you get one, word of mouth spreads."

”Yesterday Family Values Guy and now this one. They aren't usually moving in the same circles..."

“You’d be surprised how well they get along when they're here at the same time. Like best buddies."

She snickers.

“The love for watching naked women unites men more than anything.”

You scoff. Can't deny it, it did unite you with all kinds of jerks back in the day when you were a man.

“Men are such pigs.”

You both snicker

Little Big Dickey - LBD as his fans call him you learn - and his group finally sit down, and it's time for your next number.

You walk to the stage, trying not to be starstruck - you aren't because you really don't know the guy, but you can’t help but focus your attention. Be it just because he and his followers shine like a beacon with all the gold and bling.

Well, apparently he is a celebrity, so he's likely loaded. He’s not stingy and the girls in his entourage seem to - appreciate him so why not focus on him.

You do. You’re not giving anything extra, you don't have to – you enjoy your job one way or the other and always give your very best on stage. Your moves are seductive and tempting, your body is making promises none of these men will ever see fulfilled. You always do that.

But this time for every piece of fabric you drop you look directly into LBD’s eyes – well. His sunglasses. Thank goodness the stage is well lit so he can see what you do for him. And it seems to work, you noticed he was distracted before, didn't pay attention to the dancer on stage before you, but he’s very focused on you. You can't see his eyes, but his posture, his expression, his demeanour towards the girls surrounding him trying to get his attention all shows he's very focused just on you. You smile at him, as you drop your panties, covering your pussy with your hand an reveal it just for him.

One of his bodyguards approaches the stage with 100 bucks in hand, that he hands to you and informs you the Big Man wants a lap dance. You smile. There's no man, no matter how big and famous ho can resist your new female body and charisma. You’re such a better woman than you were a man. The nagging doubt about why you should change that only lasts a second, you're too busy for such things now.

You hand your money and clothes to Candy - the only girl here that you trust fully. As she hears he called you over her eyes widen.

Then you turn around and walk through the club naked as the curse made you towards Little Big Dickey.

He grins at you broadly and blindingly you for second - the grill in his mouth looks like it set with diamond.

“Hay there, Hot Stuff. You’re new!”

It's a statement, apparently he’s here often enough to know for sure.

“I am.”

“Great dancing. Totally sick. Made my Little Big Dickey stand up at once!”

You must actively suppress a snicker. Calling his cock by his own artist's name. OK.

“Thanks...”

“And not just because you're hot, you can REALLY move. Did you do ballet or something? That's how you white girls who are really flexible learn this stuff, right?”

You blush. Not the first compliment you get for your dancing and you still haven't figured out if the curse gave you this body because the flexibility and skills of dance help you explore your femininity or if you got the body you always wanted or are deep inside. Athletic, skilful. A graceful woman trapped in the body of a skinny, clumsy male nerd. You're beginning to favour that version. It feels right, THIS body and what it does feels so much more right than your old male one.

“Not really. I guess I'm kind of a natural!”

You shrug.

“Cool. Cool. Let’s not beat around the bush, huh. Even though you have a really pretty bush.”

He chuckles, looking at your trimmed patch of hair between the legs and the bodyguards laugh. The girls don't. You sense some pangs of jealously from them.

“Since when do you like hairy old cunts, LBD?”

One of them pouts. You giggle softly. Probably they all shaved for the big man. And none of them seems over twenty so you guess you are old to them.

“She wears it well, babe. At least she has her own style and doesn't look like you every other girl down there. But no need to grow one now, she's the avant garde, if you do it, you’d just look like copy cats!"

The so reprimanded girl crosses their arms in front of their chests and lean back with a sour face. LBD grins, he’s busy enough with you, he can spare one of his girls’ attention.

“OK, before I was so rudely interrupted…”

The girl harrumphs.

“I was offering you a gig.”

You frown, looking at the white girls.

“A gig – as what, exactly?”

He smirks, apparently reading your face.

“Not as escort, I have enough white girls for that..."

He strokes the pouting girl's thigh, making her giggle. Easy to please.

"Doesn't take much skill."

Back to pouting...

“I need a dancer.”

“You want to hire me after seeing me once?”

“I don’t need to see more of a really great talent.”

“Dance where exactly? I don't do private shows if that's what…”

“Real dancer, not stripper. In my videos.”

You scoff.

“Honestly, I'm not that into rap, but I've seen enough to know I'm not gonna wear much more than in this job, right?"

He grins.

“A little bit more. We can’t have naked dancers, unfortunately, we need to get our video on YouTube. Dancing in skimpy clothes shouldn't bother yo, should it?"

You smirk.

“In the background to you, with other girls, I assume.”

“You're actually more than good enough to get some close-ups, babe. You could be a star if you pull it of right.”

You frown.

“How much?”

“Now you’re speaking my language.”

And gives you a number notably larger bigger than what you make in this joint in some weeks.

“For ONE video?”

“Mhm. But just for you, really want you and I'm not trying to rip you off.”

You look around a little dizzy. Quite an offer. But you're not going to forget your friends.

“I have one other condition!”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Confidence. Love it. What is it?”

“She!”

You nod towards the stage where Candy is just about beginning her number.

He looks at you puzzled.

“You hire her as well.”

“This wasn't meant as a package deal…”

“It is one now!”

He looks at Candy.

“She’s cute. Not bad a dancer but not even close to your skills. I can get girls like her for a dime a dozen…”

“I don't care if you think she’s special. I know she is. And don’t tell me you can’t use her as a background dancer, she’s hot, she can move and she’s got more skills than most those babes hopping about in your videos, I bet!”

He chuckles.

“She doesn't get your pay-check, just so we're clear. The standard wage is half of that. Are you sure she want the job, you haven't even asked her.”

You nod. The money is still about that she’d make in here in a week. You're quite sure she’ll take it.

“She’s actually huge fan of yours, I'd be quite shocked if she refused to work for you.”

LBD grins.

“At least she'll be easier to negotiate with than you, then."

He winks and you grins.

"OK, I can use her, if she wants it you two have a deal!”

You nod and look at the stage where Candy just shed her last piece of clothing and presents her beautiful body to you and the audience. You raise your hand and wave her over. Her eyes widen and she shyly, almost timidly walks over.

“Hey, there. Candy, right?”

She nods, speechless.

“My new friend Gypsy here told me a lot of good things about you. You're a fan?"

She nods and finally catches a breath.

“The biggest! I love you, Dickey. I got one of your worn jockstraps you sold on eBay for charity."

You frown. This just got - weird.

"What's your favourite song of mine?”

LBD leans back apparently enjoying the attention after your – slightly cooler demeanour.

“I have ‘White Pussy be drippin' for my LBD’ as my ringtone”, she giggles.

You're not sure if this fangirling of your friend is awkward or cute. Well, she going to be fangirling a lot more.

“As I just told Gypsy, I got a job opening for two hot white pussies in my next video as dancers. And I want you two.”

Sure, now it sounds like it was his idea to hire you both, he wouldn't be **** like this by a mere white girl. OK, let him play the big man.

Candy seems frozen beside your, her mouth open.

“You… I…. you want us do dance in your video?”

“Yep.”

“But... I… What….”

This is definitely too much for her to work through. You put an arm around her shoulder.

“It’s OK. It’s just a dancing gig, really. Just say yes."

“I…”

Suddenly she screams in a high pitched voice, downing out the music and makes all the guests look at her.

“I’M GONNA BE IN AN LBD VIDEO!!!!!”

The rapper chuckles.

“I take that as a yes.”

The black man in fur and gold nods to his bodyguards.

“Tell the owner I'll have to kidnap two of his girls for the rest of the night. And probably for quite a while afterwards too.”

Then looks at you.

“You’re working for me now, so no need for strippin', eh?”

You both nod, you're satisfied by the money coming along from his job, Candy unable to think of anything than her working for her biggest celebrity crush.

LBD links arms with one of you on each side and walks you out, followed by his bodyguards an entourage. Outside waits a huge white stretch limousine, big enough for the bodyguards to sit in the front and all of you, LBD, you two and the four girls that have now become background staffage to fit in eh back comfortably. LBD didn't actually ask you two to follow him or if you have plans, he just expects you to – he’s used to calling the shots for people who work for him and you don’t mind.

The limo takes you to his place, a huge villa overlooking the city, where you celebrate your deal. The other girls retreat into a part of the huge house that's not for guests, as he sends the away while you two follow the rapper to the outdoor area. He's dropping his fur coat and garish clothes as he reaches a whirlpool. Keeping his bling and gold on, he stands in front of you naked, tattoos covering most of his body, piercings rivalling the bling around his neck. Not a bad body, quite well defined and trained. He's not slacking off on his money. Has an image to prove. His Little Big Dickey is hard and erect. And you smile. Quite a fitting name. It's little for a big dick. Or quite big for a little one. In other words – perfectly average. Which for a black man in the business of showing off what you got is reason enough to compensate it with all the bling and money and cars.

He stands in front you without saying a word, clearly expecting you to thank him for the generous job you just got.

You lick your lips. No problem with that.

Look to your side to Candy who seems - frozen again. Happens a lot tonight. The sight of her idol’s cock was too much again. You giggle and pinch her nipple trough her sheer top, which brings her back.

“That is SUCH an amazing cock!”

You grin. Well. It's OK. Nothing to phone home about really, in your few days a woman, which made you quite the expert, you've seen better. You're not surprised though, Candy is star struck like a teenager, everything Little Big showed her would have been a religious revelation to her in this state. And for you, this is not the moment for brutal honesty, but some flattering.

“It is, indeed. Is that all for us, Mr. Dickey?”

He grins as you walk up to him, start to kiss him and put your hand on it, rubbing it, massing the balls. Candy hardly moves but as you look her in the eyes and gesture her over she finally overcomes her stupor and goes to her knees on front of her idol, worshipping his cock like she's in a holy mass. Kissing it, licking it, praising it with ever breath, while you kiss the black man passionately. Grateful for the opportunity he gave you. The grill in his mouth feels weird, but you're quite sure you'll get used to it.

You end in his whirlpool after few minutes of foreplay and you let Candy have primacy to his cock in her pussy as you did for his cock in her mouth, she's the fan after all. You can take him or leave him. He’s rich, more or less good looking and fit, even though the tats and all the jewellery are not really your taste at all. Fucking him is not an experience you must have, but you don't mind. For Candy, you can see, it's almost epiphany.

You sit by their side and eagerly kiss them both, pet them, stroke them and enjoy the show of your friend reaching heaven by fucking the star of her dreams in his whirlpool.

It doesn't take long – as objective spectator you can keep track of time and it's little more than five minutes until he’s grunting and cums in his Number One Fan's hungry pussy. Average. Like most about this man if you strip him off his façade. Which is OK. He can compensate it with his money. You smile.

Candy came twice in these five minutes, less from his cock but from the exhilaration of being around him you gather.

You spend some time leaning against him after he's done, kissing, stroking his ego and his cock, and after he snorted a line of white power from the edge of the jacuzzi he’s ready to go again. You straddle him, insert his average cock into your pussy and begin to ride him.

Not because you can't resist him but watching Candy ride him made you moderately horny and making out with her and him kept the flame on a low, constant setting – you're wet and ready enough but you do this mostly because you feel he's expecting you to, thanking him for the job he gave you. And you don't mind - he deserves it, he’s a generous man. You let Candy kiss him while you ride him and close your eyes determined to to enjoy it. It’s a nice fuck, nothing earth shattering, no fireworks, but it gives you warm and pleasant tingles all through your body. You don’t cum, nothing about him, the situation, his cock or his skills stimulating enough, but when he grunts again and squirts inside your pussy you sigh with pleasure and decide to fake a little orgasm for his sake. Stroke the ego of your new benefactor.

"God dammit, girls, you two are the hottest white bitches ever. I've never cum so hard and long!”

He sniffs another line as Candy beams with pride. You chuckle softly. If two five minute fucks in the jacuzzi are the hottest orgy Little Big Dickey ever had, you need to shift your idea about rappers' sex lives drastically.

Thankfully Candy is more than willing to praise your new boss’ skills. Through the rose coloured glasses of her celebrity crush, she obviously really means it.

“You're the greatest stud I ever had, LBD, you practically wrecked my poor little pussy!”

You just grunt what can be interpreted as approval. Anything else would have strained your acting skills.

But you can kiss him with a gratitude that's not faked, but is a lot more about your new job an pay-check than the fuck you just had.

You spend some more time out here in his pool talking over the details of the video shoot and your future career. You take care of the business part. Candy was great to mellow him down, but isn't capable of a clear thought, right now.

The little voice in your head insisting you'll be a man before any of that happens is silenced by the dollar signs in your eyes and the gemstone, both making your chest glow warm.

Candy gets to fuck him once more - five minutes and after that even his white powder doesn't get him back to shape for a second round with you, too, so you call it a night and let his limousine take you home.