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Archive-name: Changes/jake2.txt

Archive-author: Jo Black

Archive-title: My Friend Jake

  In which your author completely loses control of the

situation and learns a lot about him/herself.


    As the door leading to the bar opened, I was amazed. I

could hear a blues band in the background playing softly. The

lights were bright, but not harsh. I guess I had judged this

place by Jake's personality. I had expected a frenzy of

flashing lights, accompanied by the loud, harsh beat of

Metallica. I considered this a good sign. I felt out of place

in modern clubs when I wear jeans and a sportscoat; in my red

minidress, I certainly was self conscious enough.

     Jake again gently wrapped his arm into mine and lead me

toward a table right in the middle of the barroom. And this

room was huge! There must have been over 100 tables scattered

throughout the room. At the head of all this, was the most

ornate, mammoth oak bar I had ever seen. And believe me, I've

seen a lot of bars in my day. There were at least 40 stools

around this wooden Goliath, almost all occupied. The entire middle of the vast

room was a polished wooden dance floor. My eyes had not yet adjusted to the

light, so I couldn't really see who was who (as if I'd know, anyway). Jake,

suspiciously being the perfect gentleman, pulled out my chair and I,

surprisingly, glided very gracefully into it, again demurely

crossing my ankles. I had to cock my legs to one side because

of the heels. Looking down, I noticed how elegant and almost

flirtatious this looked. My legs, now long and smooth,

assumed an unnatural (for me) shapeliness because of the

heels. My silky hose almost made them gleam. I felt a faint

stirring in my crotch. Oh no! Not now. At least I could wait

until I get a little bit acclimated. No dice. I turned myself


     Here's the picture. I'm perched upon a chair, looking

like some middle-aged siren on the make in the middle of a

gay bar. There are at least 150-200 people here, who I

presume are all Gay, and with my luck, on the make. I never

planned to come here, I really don't believe I am here,

dressed like this. I am very uncomfortable and embarrassed.

And THIS is the time I choose to get a hard-on?

     I realize that Jake is asking me something. I smile

nervously and ask him to repeat it. "Scotch ok?", he had


     I told him ok, but make it a light one. I thought I

would need my wits about me before the night was over.

Besides, Jake had laid out a bustier which certainly reduce

my waist and given me a more girlish figure. But it was hard

to breathe at times and I'm sure it would put pressure on the

bladder. That was a scene I didn't want to think of yet.

     I glanced at the waitress and almost collapsed.  I

instantly could tell that this was a guy, about my age.

He/she was dressed in a low cut black, satiny cocktail

waitress uniform.  It was complete with starchy petticoats

which made a SWISH as he made any move.  Perched on his head

was a very realistic wig (I guess). It was blonde and fell to

his shoulders. His makeup was very much overstated; almost

whorish. On his feet were the highest heels I had ever seen.

Jake gave him our order and he slunk away with his petticoats

swishing behind him.  Now here's an interesting moment. I

checked him out from head to foot with a critical eye. Not

because of why he was wearing such an outfit, but I was

judging his taste on how he was dressed. I recall thinking he

was rather slutty!  This was a real shock.  I could feel

myself falling further and further into my role.

     Our drinks came rather quickly. Our waitress smiled and flirted with

Jake. She slammed my drink down in front of me. Surely, she didn't consider me

competition? Jake attempted to make small talk but I didn't know what to say.

As we fell silent, I looked around the room.  Most tables had a couple at

them.  Most of these couples were two men.  But in the corner, I spied a

couple of tables with women at them.  Considering my environs, they were

probably like me. No, they planned to come here. I wonder what they were like.

Jake muttered something about going to see a friend. I panicked again.  "No,

don't leave me alone!", I pleaded.

     "It will just be for a few minutes", he said. "Remember what we talked

about. We are here only as friends. I need to circulate so the others realize

that. Besides, I think that they others also need to realize that you are

available." He quickly added with a sparkle in his eye, "If that's what you

decide you would like.  I told you, no pressure. Do what you feel like. But,"

he added cryptically, "give it a chance. I remember that play and I know you

do too.  For one night, relive it. Explore it further. You may enjoy it. If

you don't, at least you'll know that too."

     He left a twenty on the table to cover any drinks I would want. I sat

there, too scared to look around any further. This entire scene was getting

more and more complex. I was used to the clothes by this time. In fact,

whenever I moved, I could feel the stiffening in my groin. The underwear, the

hair and the makeup was becoming a positive feature. I slowly lifted my head

and glanced around the bar again. This time, I noticed more detail. Men were

laughing and holding each other. This didn't seem that out of place to me for

some reason.

     I sipped at my drink and continued to look around. I heard the now

familiar tap of heels on the wood floor. I looked over my shoulder and spied a

redheaded vision. She was about 5'8", a little shorter than I. Her emerald

green dress slid suggestively off her left shoulder. I noticed with some

astonishment that her hosiery and 4" heels matched the outfit to a tee. I

nodded politely, not knowing what to say to a beautiful woman when I was

dressed like one. I heard in a soft, but slightly deep voice, "May I join

you?"  I just grinned like a fool and nodded again.

     She slid into the chair exactly like I did. For some reason, this pleased

me. She set down her suede purse on the table and unclasped it, took out a

cigarette. Wordlessly, she offered me one, which I took. Silently, she slid

two out of the pack, pulled out a gold lighter and lit them both. Not really

remarkable, unless you figure I quit smoking 5 years ago.

     The waitress came by and she whispered, "Vodka gimlet and freshen up my

girlfriend's drink at the same time. I heard the swish, swish, swish of the

petticoats heading toward the bar. I gazed at my new companion. She smiled and

after our drinks came and the swish disappeared into the dark, she finally

broke the ice. "First time I take it."

     "Why would you say that?", I wittingly demanded.

     "Because you act exactly like I did 3 months ago when I made my debut",

the redhead sang. "Look, I was even more nervous than you are. I had only

dressed in private. I learned makeup from magazines. I saw you with Jake when

you came in. He told us last week that he had a special friend he was going to

bring in tonight. Just asked us to be friendly."

     I was more confused than before. Not only had Jake planned this entire

evening, he was so confident in the outcome, he told everyone except me. I

felt my cheeks redden. I'm sure my eyes reflected my ire because the redhead

shook her head and said, "Hey, don't be upset. I only came over because I know

the first time is almost impossible. You are in an alien environment with

completely foreign clothing on and have no idea how you feel about it. I was

the same way. Jake told me that you had repressed these feeling for many

years; but other than that, I understand exactly what you are going through.

This can be fun. However, let's make a little deal. Try it. At least you know

that way if this life is for you. I won't stay with you all night because I

don't want to cramp your style." (I don't know how to refer to people at this

point. From now on, the person's gender will be reflective of their dress.)

With a leer, she licked her slips slowly and purred, "I don't want to miss any

opportunity myself. Jake helped me that first night. He gave me advice and

offered suggestions throughout the night when I needed them. I owe him that so

I'm going to help you"

     She said her name was Renee. She started with hints on female deportment.

I was poised just perfect to her discerning eye. But I was leaning back into

the chair. She showed me that sitting straight caused my breasts to highlight

my dress. I was pleased. As Renee continued, I honestly grew more interested.

She demonstrated how to hold a cigarette and even how to gently puff at it,

not take long drags, like a man. When I wasn't using my hands, I learned how

to tuck them properly on my lap. She even commented on my walk as I had

entered the bar. I learned a lot. Looking at the clock, I was shocked to

discover that more than an hour had passed. Renee noticed this and said that

there was only one more thing to learn. She instructed me to get the money off

the table and grab my purse and follow her. I rose, just as Renee has told me

to. I did just fine until I discovered that my right leg had fallen asleep.

Shaking a bit, I was able to revive it and suggestively shaking my hips

slightly from side to side, I followed Renee to the exit.

     The restroom! I hadn't considered that. I grabbed her arm and said, " I

can't go in there" She just laughed and maneuvered me into the sacred door

that proclaimed, "LADIES". I was mortified.

     When inside, Renee almost cried, she laughed so hard. Between sobs, she

asked, "Just who do you think uses the Ladies room in a gay bar? Come, let's

get busy."

     I finally found out why it takes women so long in the restroom. Undoing

this and that, pulling up slips and dresses etc. It was even worse when I was

finished. It seemed that everything had slid up. My breasts were now 6"

higher, my dress was 4" shorter and my hose were 4" lower. I worked at it for

what seemed quite a while, until it felt right. Exiting the stall, I glanced

into the mirror and confirmed I was back in shape. In fact, as I lingered in

the looking glass, I was very pleased with what I saw. The Scotch had really

brighten my cheeks. My hair was a little disarrayed, which was rather

pleasing. My legs just seemed to go on for ever. What was the old saying, O

yea, "...all the way up to my ass". I got out my makeup while waiting for

Renee. I puttered a bit, not out of necessity rather just to reflect. I was

here, I have decided I was pretty. And quite frankly, I was feeling more

aroused the longer I was here. But now what. I needed to decide.  I either was

going to go back out and sit at the table like a lump, find Jake and whine

that I wanted to go home. Or, and I don't believe I am even considering this,

I could, well, try to make some, well, new friends. That's all. I have

decided. I would go back out and participate. Just enough to get a feel for

the lifestyle. Besides, I never heard of a gay man wanting a woman. I was

dressed as a woman, so therefore, I was the safest man here. What a fool I

was. But I knew it at the time. But it was a good release valve. Renee said

she was ready. I stood up, still facing the mirror, applied more lipstick in

an almost defiant manner. I then clasped my purse with a snap and turned on my

heel and headed out to face my destiny.

     Renee and I parted. She promised she would be "around" until closing. I

stood in the entrance and looked around the room. I didn't see Jake anywhere.

I noticed the other girls were still in the corner. But I didn't feel like

being with " the Girls". In the restroom, I had resolved to see this little

charade all the way through. I figure I'd go to the bar, order a drink and let

nature take it's course. The bartender was the most gorgeous creature I had

ever seen. At least 6'3", with arms and a chest developed like a body builder

without getting that beachbum type look. His black hair was in tight curls

which perfectly framed his face. Deep blue eyes finished off this vision of

Grecian virility. The sudden acknowledgment of these feelings surprised me but

I wasn't really embarrassed by them. I don't know why, but it seemed OK to

admire him. I didn't WANT him, but was attracted to his masculinity.

     I perched myself on the high stool. I crossed my legs a little awkwardly

at first. But with the gaffe I was wearing, my balls didn't inhibit this

movement. I sat there with my drink when someone sat down next to me. I stole

a glance out of the corner of my eye.  My new neighbor was just an ordinary

guy, a lot like I was a scant 3 or 4 hours ago. He had brown hair, jeans and a

rather ordinary blazer on. He cleared his throat and stammered, " Could, could

I get you, you know, another drink?"

     I felt an alarm go off in my head. This was it. I was being hit upon. I

was at the point of no return. Either run toward the exit or .."No thank you,

I just ordered this one. But thanks just the same. I smiled at him friendly

like, no in retrospect, it must have been almost eagerly.

     He smiled and asked if I would like to join him at a table. I agreed

instantly. I was committed. I was with a man and not just a little excited by

it! Sam briefly muttered something to the bartender and then turned to me and

rather cavalierly swung his arm and turned his palm upward.

     He followed me as I looked for a table. The place had really filled up

but I spied one, again, almost in the middle. When we arrived, he almost

tripped trying to get to the chair before me in order to hold it out. I

approved. By God, I've evidently decided when I dress like this, I will be

treated properly. This caused another blush to my cheeks. I was no longer a

man in a dress, I was a true crossdresser. So be it.

     He introduced himself as Sam. I said my name was Jo. He told me how

pretty I was. I blushed. I told him how handsome he was. He beamed. This inane

conversation went on for 5 minutes until and old favorite of mine, "Michelle"

came softly cascading across the sound system. I perked up a little. Sam

looked puzzled and then I could see the light bulb go on over his head. "Would

you care to dance, Jo?" I said I would be  delighted.

     He lead me toward the dance floor. There were a few other couples out

there, but no one dressed like me. He took my right hand in his and pulled his

left arm around my reduced waist. He had the lightest touch I had ever felt! I

awkwardly turned and stepped to the music. When the Beatles were finished, Sam

released me and we parted slightly. With a puzzled but somewhat endearing

little boy grin, he said, " That was nice. But next time, could I lead?"

     I was mortified. Here I was feeling that I had caught on pretty well, and

now I had reverted to my old masculine ways. Overconfidence will get you

everytime. I blushed, of course. That is ONE thing feminine I had picked up

rather well. Then, the entire bar seem to fall quiet for a second. From

somewhere, a disembodied voice announced, "Now for your dancing pleasure, our

manager and owner has requested a special song. He said it is dedicated to a

beautiful lady."

     The time honored strains of "Unchained Melody" filled the room. I had

always loved this song. Sam pulled me toward him. This time, however, he

firmly grasped me around the waist and pulled me tight. You remember how we

danced at the Senior Prom; both arms around your girl, holding her firm. I

felt secure for the very first time that evening. I surrendered myself to his

lead. I felt myself go a little limp. To support myself, I draped both arms

around his neck and clasped my hands loosely. After the first stanza, I was

almost ready to swoon. Feeling lightheaded, I laid my head on his shoulder.

There. The deed was done. I had crossed (no pun intended) from man to real

woman. I felt protected. I felt wanted. I felt pretty and desirable. And most

importantly, I felt the rock hard cock in my beautiful panties. God, was Jake

ever right! This was one of the most touching moments of my life. The song

seemed to go forever. I was a million miles away in the arms of a man who

desired me!

     After about a hundred years, the song slowly died away. I finally

realized that we were still clinging to each other in the middle of the dance

floor and no music was playing. Sam must have gotten the same idea because we

let go. I deliberately held firm for a moment. I wanted Sam to know how I felt

without any verbal explanation. When I released him and moved back a step, I

could see in his eyes that I communicated my emotion very well.

     He reached across my back and grabbed my shoulder. Hugging me tightly, he

directed me back to our table. He ordered another round of drinks. We didn't

say anything; we just stared at each other. I was almost oblivious to anything

around me. From my mind's eye, I saw someone nearing the table. It was

accompanied by the now familiar swish. swish of the waitress' petticoats. I

glanced away and saw the whorish one who had first waited on Jake and I went

we arrived. I returned my attention to Sam when I heard a crash.

     I jumped but too late. The little bitch and dropped my drink and spilt

it. I suddenly felt the cold liquid running down my dress and onto my legs.

Looking down, It looked like I had wet myself. I started crying!

     Sam was up in a shot. He grabbed the towel from the whore and started to

wipe my dress. His face was reddened, I noticed. He was embarrassed! Wrong. He

turned to the waitress and said, "Bobbi, you're through. Get out."Bobbi had a

little smile on her face as she dropped the serving tray on the table. She

spat,"Serves the little bitch right. Who does she think she is, anyway?"

     Sam grabbed my arm and said, "Don't cry. Come with me. We'll get you

cleaned up"

     I was in a daze. What was he talking about?


 OK, Ladies. This was part 2. I might have gotten a little long, but it's my

story. Stay tuned for part 3, coming to a BB near you soon. I welcome all

remarks, private or public, good or bad. Just drop me a line?

                                            Jo Black



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