The Girls of Club Cache Starr Obsession Part 1
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The Girls Of Club Cache: Starr Obsession [Part 2] free porn video
The Girls of Club Cache: Starr Obsession [Part 2]
By Diana Heche
Part 2: Into the Black
Time shot by like a rocket! I had now been living in this house
with Lena for nearly three weeks. She had two other roommates,
the first (whom I've only seen pictures of.) was a Brazilian of
impossible beauty named Jazz. Jazz was apparently back in her
home country on a vaguely described trip of some kind that no one
would detail at length. The second roommate, was a six-foot
Amazonian beauty, I had met at the club a couple of times that
went by the name Darcy.
Save for the blond hair, Darcy was unlike Lena in most ways
possible. Lena, while a woman of strong sexual appetite, was
quiet and thoughtful. Darcy was bold and outspoken, if something
came to her mind she said it. While both were beautiful, Lena
didn't go out of her way to attract attention. Darcy on the other
hand enjoyed all eyes upon her.
On the first night of my stay, Darcy came home late as I sat at
the kitchen table (I was still dressed and energized from that
afternoon's sexual encounter with Lena ) sipping more coffee.
Darcy registered no surprise at seeing me, and said simply,
"Picked up another stray I take it?"
I was embarrassed, uncomfortable and quite certain Darcy did not
welcome my presence. I stammered with an unusual lack of
confidence that I would take off. "Nonsense," the statuesque
beauty assured me.
Just so I didn't miss the point, that night while I was reading
in bed she entered my room boldly and naked - without even a
hello - placed her hand lightly over my mouth so I wouldn't bore
her with protestations or pleasantries.
Like a hungry animal she then spread my legs and, in various
positions throughout the night, pumped me, quite recreationally
and indifferently, for hours. Once she had finished, leaving
sperm messily spewed about my bed. She left without a single
word. I took this as her way of saying, "welcome".
Nevertheless, this particular afternoon, three weeks after that
and several other "welcome" calls, we were gathered around the
television set. It was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon but
both Lena and Darcy when in robes. The night before they had gone
to check out a new t-girl club named "The Apple" which was all
the rage. They must have enjoyed it, because I was awake eating
breakfast at 7:00am when the returned.
In the three weeks since I had gone into a state of hiding things
had gotten worse in my former life. I was, as I expected, the
fodder of television gossip, ridicule and scorn. I was even
placed in the rarefied air of having the Reverend Jerry Falwell
mention me by name and curse my lifestyle.
But as a former major executive in the television industry, I was
considered to be more than fair game. People who weeks ago,
didn't know my name were using it as a synonym for perversity. My
lawyers, in conjunction with Childvision's attorneys and public
relations people, had issued denials and spins questioning the
very legitimacy of the pictures, even as they knew they were
real. My wife had been slammed with a court order keeping her
from speaking on the matter at all or issuing further pictures,
under severe penalty, even as she denied being their source.
Facing the specter of a long drawn out legal battle, in the form
of a twenty-two page legal agreement, she agreed to deny the
validity of the pictures completely in exchange for a quick and
dirty divorce settlement in which she would come out very well.
The damage was done! People can smell the difference between a
legal fix and the truth. In the court of public opinion, media
accusations equaled guilt. As we watched today's edition of
"Access Hollywood", the block of time usually reserved for light
banter and stars endless self promotion was dedicated to me. More
specifically how this influenced the image of a network dedicated
toward children. This Hollywood fodder was only part of the big
picture!
How it impacted the price of stock was the domain of the
financial channel, CNBC, and would be debated two hours from now.
How you could tell if the white shirted red tied executive in
your office was a "perv" in the bedroom, was the domain of the
afternoon tabloid fueled talk shows such as Jerry Springer. He
would be discussing me promptly at three.
It was, to my great chagrin, the talk of the town. I wanted to
change the channel, but I was compelled to know what is being
said about me, whether good, or in this case, terrible.
As this un-spooled, Lena watched the program with growing
concern. While I had explained to my housemates the gravity of my
situation, they did not understand fully how big this really was
until I began showing them the constant shark feed. She now could
see why I chose their home, so far off the beaten path, and their
world, so shrouded in illusion and secrecy, to hide.
As this, un-spooled Darcy watched the program with growing
illumination. She had not paid much attention to me on the couple
of occasions that I had met her at the club. Well-dressed guys
with nice shoes and nice watches (the things she looked for to
determine a man's social status) were a dime a dozen. Currently,
I occupied the sole position of being a better option than
masturbation when she came home tipsy from the club.
Now it dawned on her, that the Lexus SUV hidden under the drop
cloth in the garage was owned and not leased, that my shoes were
not designer knock offs, but the real thing. That the severance
settlement I was going to receive would be in the hundreds of
thousands, if not low millions. She now viewed me as a source of
great potential income.
Nevertheless, for both women, it was surreal to have this unfold
before their eyes, to hear about how I had apparently gone into
hiding, and to sit beside me as the people hiding me as this
entire thing played out.
It was Darcy who spoke up during the commercial. "Wow, guy.
You're as fucked as anyone I've ever seen. Not to mention the
press is hunting you like a rabbit. What are you going to do?"
"Not sure really. I was hoping to press upon your good graces for
awhile, then figure it out. Then once this reasonably blows over,
go back into the world and get on with my life."
"What life?" Lena interjected, "I'm not sure you were watching
the same things we have, but you seem to be the poster child for
deviation. Maybe you're too close to this, but you're up the
creek. I don't think you have a life any more to be honest."
I nodded contemplatively. In my heart, I knew this statement was
true. I knew this before I had even arrived on Lena's doorstep.
There was no other life for me. I know running television, and I
knew it damn well. It was my reputation as a sharp behind the
scene guy, which got me the job at the fledgling network in the
first place. But of course, I had no reputation now.
Darcy took the conversation to lengths that I had not, and would
not have, contemplated before. "Look, you clean up well enough,"
this was her way of saying that I was adequately attractive in my
female personae, "and you have enough cash to basically retire
modestly if you choose, right? Even at your very young age. Did
you ever consider coming over?"
Coming over, I had learned along with a dictionary's worth of
alternate t-girl lingo, meant taking steps to move into the world
of living as a girl. It usually involved surgery, often hormones.
Darcy, who now beginning to see me as a large wallet, knew that
"coming over" would keep me in their world, and most probably, in
their house.
"No, actually I haven't." I answered a bit taken aback, "Don't
take this the wrong way, because I know you guys don't like to
... or don't feel it necessary to talk about it, but I can't
figure out why someone goes over. I used to think it was the idea
of being a man trapped in a woman's body. Many of the girls don't
have, or don't want, sexual reassignment surgery. In fact..." I
paused putting this delicately "with the frequent use of many....
of the girl's penises ... in many ways they have the appetite of
men."
"Your mistake is this," said Lena settling her voice into lecture
mode, "you are assuming a uniformity in a community where there
is little except appearance. There are many reasons boys become
girls.
Some boys were born the wrong sex and need vaginas. Some boys
were born the wrong sex, but understand losing the penis is far
too traumatic, even if in every other way they are women. Some
boys just want to be boys with the look and behavior of women.
Some are confused and gay.
So, for some it is an internal adjustment, for others it is
nothing more than a look - and as you can imagine, everything in
between."
Darcy leapt in, "We went to a new club last night that was pretty
hot. We'll take you ... or Starr, actually ... with us tonight,
and let you take a look around. Maybe you'll understand what Lena
is talking about."
Going out with these girls thrilled and frightened me. I was
certain I wasn't ready. In the back of my mind I had a nagging
thought: was I just being silly, or were they trying to convince
me to actually switch genders?
The girls spent a great deal of the evening replicating the
professional make up and prosthetic work that went into
transforming me into a woman. I had slipped into the Starr
personae on more than one occasion since I arrived, albeit not
very frequently. However, this was no normal transformation, if
there were such a thing to begin with. The girls having decided
they were having no part of a "Plain Jane" being seen with them,
decided to "sex me up". Moreover, when they were done I was
dressed like a woman who was aware of, and reveled in, her
sexuality.
I was sporting a tight shiny black skirt made of an almost liquid
like material, which shimmered and reflected the light at my
every move. My corset was pulled tight so my curves were
realistic and shapely. I wore a very tight black top, which went
all the way up to my neck, and was opaque with a see through mesh
panel to show off the cleavage area. I slipped a breast pad on
the inside of my bra, and in a see through pocket built into the
bra, I put another silicone breast form, which could also be
clearly seen through the mesh. With the extra padding, it gave
the illusion that I had very large breasts and was wearing
nothing but a see through bra to cover them. Although I knew how
the illusion was created, and these were my breasts, it made me
aroused with lust. I could imagine what affect it would have on
others.
To round out the outfit, the girls had me wear a pair of high
black clear platforms, what I used to call stripper shoes, with
shiny patent leather straps. In my sheer black suspender hose,
they looked fantastic. To finish it off I borrowed one of Darcy's
wigs, unused and unneeded for years, which was lustrous, long and
blond.
Standing together, we all looked at ourselves in the mirror. I
was looking very good, I had to admit, even in the company of
these extraordinary beauties. I was, of course, not as
spectacular as they were (very few women were) but in the hot
clothes they put me in, understanding the look intrinsically more
so than even the make up expert Josephine who originally
transformed me, they drew attention away from my weaknesses to my
strengths. Certainly, I was not quite ready to fool Miss America
judges in broad daylight, but I was damn sure ready for a t-girl
club at night.
For the first time in my life, I know what it was like to be hot.
The club the girls brought me to, Apple of My Eye, known simply
as The Apple and Club Cache were a study in contrast. Club Cache
was an environment, by t-girls for t-girls. It was a place where
the "A-list" t-girls, performers, she-male porn stars, and top
line prostitutes went to show off their goods.
Cache had the reputation of being able to make even the most
skeptical man understand the lure of a girl with a "little
something special underneath". It was a large dance club, with
tables surrounding the floor, where the regular royalty of this
surprisingly structured world held court (encouraging, dismissing
suitors and potential sexual partners with as little fanfare as
one accepts or sends back a meal.) Those who dressed part time,
or were not as put together, were - while treated nicely -
relegated to a secondary role.
The Apple, however, was a club, not specifically for t-girls, but
one that welcomed them as part of the fabric of a very wildly
eclectic mix. The club was filled with off beat styles, many
based upon current fashion ripped off from Japanese popular
culture. Some of the males were in various forms of female attire
making no attempt whatsoever to appear female otherwise - a skirt
with regular clothing here; slacks, nice shirt and high heels
there. Some guys were in complete female make up and male
clothing, some full time girls like Lena and Darcy were sprinkled
liberally throughout.
The Apple, additionally, was not half as dark as Cache and the
music strayed away from what I had dubbed the "t-girl classics" -
music sharing a common base with gay disco - and was rock and
dance oriented.
We arrived to find a waiting line which rivaled Studio 54 in its
80's hey day, partially due to popularity verses its small
interior. We were let in straight-away as the club had a policy
that all girls - born that way or not - were let in immediately
for free.
Darcy and Lena, two of the most attractive women there, were able
to move about laugh and enjoy the attention. I noted quickly that
missing from this crowd was the high density of t-girl admirers
(of which I was admittedly one) changing the over all feel of the
club to give it less of a meat market of intense longing, feel.
Often in Cache, the men are not there to have fun, but to
extinguish a long burning sexual need. Another notable difference
was the genetic girls. In Cache, the genetic girls were either
adversarial, over-fawning, or viewing the entire scene through
the lens of camp, but here the interaction t-girls and g-girls
was more normal.
For me, it was perfect! I looked hot and was getting attention
from girls and boys who were interested in dancing and getting to
know me better, if not intimately. Unlike Club Cache, where t-
girls without implants, who could not sound like women, or housed
any of the many apparent non female like attributes, were
relegated to the back of the bus, here it did not seem to matter.
Not a single soul asked if my breasts were real.
The three of us found a table near the back where we could sit
and observe. Darcy and Lena were instantly chatted up by two
goateed young hipsters; and a boy in pants that looked like he
was ready take a space walk, sat by me and bought me several
drinks.
Talking with him I found him to be very pleasant, bright and
extremely open-minded. As I continued to drink (he was buying me
refills as soon as my glass was close to empty. ) I became more
susceptible to his charm, of which he oozed. I'm not sure if it
was because he looked at me with such obvious admiration for my
looks, or if my encounters of being penetrated by Darcy and Lena
had permanently blurred my idea of sexuality, but for the first
time, I wanted a boy to have me.
Thad, as he had introduced himself earlier, was either extremely
perceptive or he knew the drinks he was plying me with were
working. After a bit more conversation, he asked me if I'd ever
seen the "smoking" lounge here. He waved his fingers indicating
the quotes at the word "smoking".
I explained to him that this was my first time here, and I wasn't
even aware of the club's existence as short as this morning. He
reached under the table, held my hand for a moment, then beckoned
me to stand and follow him. I wasn't quite sure what was
happening, but I was having a good time and was a more than
willing explorer. As I stood Lena looked up quickly and carried
on with her conversation, but Darcy gave me a knowing glance.
I wonder what it was exactly that she knew?
Toward the Apple's back bar was a door, which looked like it
could lead into a kitchen. We swung those doors open to find
ourselves in a glassed in patio like enclosure. It looked as
though it was once an eating area, but now used to store giant
man sized vases. It was a decent size patio, populated densely
with huge vases, (far taller than I in my heels even) with heavy
plastic foliage. They were aligned in the middle forming a small
pathway, with others shooting off against the wall in such a
fashion that small alcoves were formed. It was cool from lack of
light and partial outdoor ventilation.
We were not alone here! Even trying their best to be quiet, the
sounds of sexual encounters could be heard. The smell of sex; all
kinds of sex, wafted on the air. The set up of the giant vases
meant we had to walk past others engaged in sexual congress,
which for someone like me was shocking and momentarily
uncomfortable. There were couplings of every orientation, some of
whom ignored us as we walked past, some who studied us intently
despite being in the middle of their carnal acts.
We found a cut-away and Thad pressed against me, kissing me,
exploring, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth. I was aroused!
My tucked penis was growing quickly in my panties.
He took my hand and placed it in his pants. My brain screamed
with protest - over this and the entire situation - but my desire
was stronger. I wrapped my fingers around his stiff and waiting
hard on. Consumed with desire, I practically tore open his pants
to free his waiting cock.
Hungrily, I dropped to me knees and shoved it down my throat,
pressing my lips tightly, pulling my mouth back and forth feeling
him grow even harder in my mouth. I worked his dick in and out of
my mouth, rolling his balls between my fingers. Standing up I
pressed the taste of his cock back into his mouth in a lip to lip
kiss. Thad used his free hand to reach under my skirt, and pull
at my panties - not so much to actually remove them, but to
indicate that I should do so.
I stepped out of my panties, and feeling a bit uncomfortable,
removed my fake hips and ass pad shorts. Thad, perhaps a veteran
of such sights, wasn't phased. He spun me around even as he
worked frantically to slip a lubricated condom on his hard shaft.
To brace myself for his oncoming rear entry, I angled myself
between a giant vase and the outside wall. Through a small gap
between the vase and the outside patio wall I found myself eye to
eye with a woman who was, as I was about to be, taking it from
behind. I was about to move, but somehow we were bonded in a
strange union - the outrageous situation of two ... women ...
about to please men quietly in the corner of a public place. For
that moment in many ways, we were the same.
Thad pushed against me, entering slowly and gently - working his
way into my tight waiting hole. I closed my eyes, breathing
rapidly and grunting a little louder than I wanted to. Thad's
lubricated cock slid in and out as his hand ran gently down my
suspender stocking. In my ear he whispered how lovely I was, and
that, I was a hell of a woman. With the palm of his hand, he
pressed my cock against me and moved it up and down, whispering
hotly that he was going to rub my clit until I came. I moaned
with desire panting with each thrust and each rub.
I opened my eyes to find the woman I was inches from eyeing me
intently as we both got fucked. It was a look of ... sharing
almost ... and once our eyes locked, I couldn't pull my eyes away
hers. She pushed her face into the gap until her lips could reach
barely reach mine. She gave me a quick light kiss and her
breathing increased as she exploded in an orgasmic climax.
Quickly she shoved her hand to her mouth and bit down as not to
scream out in this small patio filled with people.
As she closed her eyes in orgasm, I clenched my butt cheeks hard
and felt Thad explode inside of my ass, jerking as each wave of
sperm flowed powerfully from his shaft. I too shot my load over
his hand, which was now sweaty with effort and desire.
The woman's eyes were back open and staring at me. The light
sounds of sex in the background obscured what she whispered. I
was certain it was "I know you! I want you!" I was about to
whisper something back when her face disappeared.
Thad was a gentleman, making sure there were no tell tale signs
of our encounter and leading me back to the table. We talked for
a while, and I took his number explaining I never gave out mine -
which in the current environment of my troubles was more than
true. Darcy eyed me with a strange degree of smug satisfaction.
Lena was too drawn into her conversation to probably even be
aware that I had been gone for long.
I spent the remainder of the night looking over Thad's shoulder
for the girl I was in a bonding union with, during sex.
At closing, the girls dismissed their suitors, by, like me,
getting their phone numbers with no real intention to call. They
seemed generally charged and upbeat from the change in atmosphere
from Cache and talked about it on the way home.
"It's nice to have somewhere to go where you can be yourself,"
Lena and Darcy both could go anywhere they wanted, and often did,
without their true gender being known unless they chose to reveal
it. However, both women had veracious sexual appetites and often
preferred places where no surprises had to be sprung. Lena yawned
as she spoke, it had been a fun but taxing night, "I mean you
want to be around your people, but sometimes the t-girl world
feels awful small. Same handful of clubs."
Darcy nodded in agreement, and turned to me, "Not such a bad
lifestyle after all is it? We have quite a bit of fun, trust me.
Throw a pair of breasts in that chest of yours, maybe a little
other work, and you could be quite a lady there Starr. And there
are plenty of boys like you met tonight, and lots of girls - t-
girls and otherwise, that would want to love you a long time." at
this statement I blushed, "You get to be in the driver or
passenger seat, its up to you. Maybe you should come over?"
Come over. Maybe it was the glow of my sexual encounter and
sexual bonding with the mystery girl; or perhaps the way I
looked, and the looks I got tonight, but I considered it. I
seriously considered it!
Two more weeks went by in a blur of clubbing and sex. I, as
Starr, was becoming more accomplished and getting to be more
feminine. Prior to living with the girls, I never consider
mannerisms and other details when I was in female form, except in
the very general sense, like crossing my legs, because it never
seemed to matter. Now that I was becoming more confident and
began to crave the attention I was becoming accustomed to, I fell
further and further into the role.
As I became better at being a woman it became a drug to me. I no
longer just craved the attention and the encounters, I began to
need them. Genetic girls have time to grow into their role, and
girls like Lena and Darcy are long accustomed to being objects of
desire. However, for me it was the new crack cocaine! I spent
hours getting ready, to make myself perfect, and more and more
cursed the imperfections that made me look even vaguely male.
When I went to the clubs, I began to feel as though I was in
competition with all of the other girls. I, being friends with
Darcy and Lena, sat in the chairs of club royalty, but was often
given looks by others that said I didn't belong there ... after
all did I have breasts, did I have an ass and hips? Every admirer
in the club who fawned over someone else and not me, made me a
bit jealous, although I sometimes was getting more attention that
I could deal with. I wanted it all - I wanted to be THE queen of
the room.
Saturday night we sat at our table. It was midnight and time for
the "drag" performance. T-girls of all kinds came out to strut
their stuff and dance, sing and perform to music. This was the
most crowded point of the night and all eyes were upon the sleek
beauties enthralling the crowd. The end of the performance, each
girl got a rousing set of applause. Admirers flocked over them
with desire when it was all over.
As I sat in my chair, I decided that this is the kind of
attention I wanted - I deserved. I eyed the girls getting the
attention that - in ever increasing state of craving desire - and
determined that it was supposed to be me. I wanted to be the
absolute belle of the ball, have people throw themselves at me to
do with as I wished. However, I wasn't going to be able to do it
without committing myself.
It was that Saturday night, five weeks after I first left my old
life that I made the decision. I had reams of money, I was going
to acquire myself the best female body surgery could buy.
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