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No narration, I hope. One I wrote a while back and need some urge to continue - I have a second chapter but it needs work. I'm hoping that posting stories once more gives me a reason to write again. Callie ------------------------------------------------------------------------- The clicking and clunking of the letterbox and the slapping of envelopes onto the floor was the signal for Katy to peel away from the chair and run into the hall, immediately followed by Mr. Jangles, looking for a way out. Mr. Jangles didn't know that Katy, at two years old, was not tall enough to reach the doorlatch, so, in the regular morning ritual, I followed behind them both. Katy lifted the post up for me, and I let the mouser out of the house for his morning ablutions. Back in the living room I sorted the mail by addressee. Kim and Katy wouldn't get any, as it wasn't birthday season. Jan, my wife, got all the bills. After all, it was her house, from before we married. Richard, my step-son from her first marriage, got what felt like a book, from Amazon. He was a bright kid who, like his mother, had flourished since the divorce. His father gave him a separate income, a sort of pocket money, which he spent only on educational materials. He never wanted much else, but he wasn't a bookworm. I went with him to Tai Chi two evenings a week, and took the girls to watch him play football every weekend. The girls, Kim and Katy, were four and two. Richard was twelve, and doted on them. He was coming into the awkward stage of noticing girls his own age, perhaps deeply in it for all I knew, but he entertained his sisters before his friends, male or female. If Richard ever didn't think of me as his father, that had passed. "Thanks, dad," he smiled, as I passed him his packet. His mother and I had been married since he was eight, and his biological father had left home when he was three. Jan had got married at seventeen when she was already six months gone. A quick wedding was arranged. Her husband discovered that pubs and nightclubs opened up a whole new world for the older teenager. A quick divorce was arranged. I met Jan a few years later, when I joined an accounting firm where she was my boss's PA. It was her turn to seduce the new boy, a game that all the secretaries played, only this time the new boy seduced back. We'd been married four years, and in this case, Kim had only brought the date forward. We think she was conceived the night I proposed. I smiled in recollection, and looked down at the remaining envelope in my hand. It held a card, which I pulled out. The card was white with gold embossing around the edges. It read "Mrs. John Choi Fa requests your attendance at the marriage of Lucy to Johnathan Hung, at the Harbour Plaza, Hong Kong." There was a date, about five months from now, and the wedding was dedicated to the memory of a Mr. John Choi Fa. It took a moment to fit the pieces together. Lucy, a flame from my college days. An affair that had started eight years ago, and finished sometime before we finished our degrees. Lucy had decided that Hong Kong was where her heart lay, not with me, and after a few bitter words we had gone our separate ways. I remembered that she was an only child, and her father, whom I had never met, was something in insurance. We had fun, some really good times, but some bad times at the end. I couldn't understand the invitation. "What's that?" Janice was coming back through from the kitchen to make sure Kim was ready to go to her nursery. "A wedding invitation," I replied. Jan caught my somewhat puzzled tone. "From whom?" "Lucy." I decided to explain. "I've told you about the girl I spent most of university with. She's getting married." "And we're invited?" "No, but I am." I paused a second. "How does she know where I live?" "I don't know. Are you going?" "No." I replied flatly. "The wedding is in Hong Kong, and even if it was here, I've not seen her since we split. Why would she invite me to her wedding?" "I don't know," Jan replied. "Richard, are you ready!" She called up the stairs. Then she turned back to me. "When is it? Is it when you're supposed to be out there?" Some weeks ago my company had warned me of a secondment to the Far East, with Hong Kong as the most likely destination. I worked for a bank now, having moved on from the accountancy practice where I had met Janice. The bank sent its fast stream appointees to home base to spend some time learning the culture and meeting the top brass. The wedding was near the end of my three month tour. I told Janice. "Well," she pondered, slipping her arms around my waist, "I'm glad you don't want to go. But, if I'm not going to worry about what you get up to while you're over there, then I'm certainly not going to worry about you trying to steal your ex from her husband on her wedding day. It might be the safest place for you. Just let me know if you decide to go." With that she kissed me. I boarded the Cathay Pacific flight at Heathrow's Terminal Three. I couldn't stop thinking about Katy. This was the first time I'd ever been away from her for more than a night. Kim had cried and tried to hold on to my leg as I backed away to passport control. Richard had started to shake my hand, then given in to my desire to give him a hug. Janice didn't want to cry in front of the children, but I felt her shaking as we kissed our last kiss. I was now beginning to feel a touch of homesickness. I had barely been away from home before, certainly not like this, for three months on the other side of the world. I felt slightly elated though, also. I was just twenty six, and my company was sending me to headquarters to find out how to run the company. I was twenty six and this was the first time away from my wife of four years. I figured I could stretch the rules slightly. Then I thought of Katy again, barely understanding at her tender age how long I was going away for. So I would drink and go out a couple of times, but I really wanted to spend the evenings with Kim and Katy, and Richard, and the nights with Jan. She was three years older than me, and tens of years more mature. She could take this separation far better than I could. I would never be able to care for three children for three months while waiting for her to come home. She had her parents, but that was a tentative relationship which hadn't yet healed over its early wounds. She had my parents, who soon came around to the idea of me marrying an older woman as the marriage lasted. She would be a rock. I loved her and missed her. The plane took off. Two of the stewardesses caught my eye. I wondered if they had noticed me. I wasn't going to ask. I switched on the video console. It was a long flight. In my hotel room I began to unpack. I had noticed during the flight that thirteen hours in an airplane seat caused some irritation and I wanted to shower. The most annoying spots were the places I'd received my jabs from the company doctor. They'd started a couple of weeks back, but the last was only the day before I flew. My buttocks and left arm were feeling the effects of sweat and seat fabric. As I pulled out my towel from the bottom of the overnight bag the wedding invitation fell to the floor. I picked it up, turned it over, and decided that I might as well RSVP now and forget about it. I lifted the phone handset and dialled out. The answer came after a number of rings. It was an ansaphone. I left a simple message with my name, hotel name and room number, stated that I would attend the wedding and asked Mrs. Fa if she would call me to let me know she had received the message. Unfortunately I heard the phone ringing whilst I was in the shower. It couldn't be Jan calling as I'm pretty sure it was the middle of the night over there, though it was morning here. I eventually left the shower, decided not to dress, rolled onto the bed, and slept. Mrs. Fa did call back. We had a brief conversation but had little to talk about. I asked after Lucy only to be told that she was very busy, but would be in touch with me soon to finalise arrangements. I told her not to worry, and rang off. The rest of my first week was spent in meetings with various managers and directors in head office, getting my arms piled high with documents, and spending nights alone in the hotel restaurant and bar. I spoke with Jan at least once a day. Katy would always put her ear to the phone and mumble, but Kim rarely wanted to come and speak, being more interested in playing with her dolls. Or shy. Richard was rarely in when I was able to call, but I spoke to him on the weekend. I got the feeling that he had finally asked out young Jenni from our Tai Chi class. These things are so much easier when your dad isn't there. A heavy, black Mercedes with blackened windows passed the front of the hotel. The back seat held a lone female occupant. She paused typing into her laptop for a moment so that she could look up at the hotel. She smiled. The time had come. She picked up her cell phone and pressed a speed dial number. When it was answered she said one word. "Tonight." She knocked on the glass partition between herself and the chauffeur. It slid open. "David. Drop me at the hotel door." The driver executed a smart turn and headed back for the entrance. Once there, he opened her door almost as soon as the car had come to a halt. She slid out in a long black evening dress. The slight breeze off the harbour ruffled her shoulder length, black hair. David stood over a foot taller than her, but he was almost invisible in his deference as he closed her door and returned to his post. "I will call." She murmured towards him, and the car was gone in moments. Silver sandals with two-inch heels began their sultry rhythm on the concrete steps. Invisible stockings stroked each other with every step. She paused to touch her earring, perhaps checking if it was there, as green-jacketed doormen opened up the hotel. She smiled at the receptionists, and glided for the elevators without stopping. One opened for her, and the boy took her exactly where she wanted to go. She stepped out purposefully, and directly, heading for a specific door. Perhaps for the first time she showed indecision as she arrived. She raised a petite hand, bare of rings but for a tiny band with a tiny diamond, and knocked, twice. I went straight to the door and opened it, expecting a green liveried busboy. "Lucy?" I stammered. "Hi, Michael." We stared at each other for a moment before she smiled. "Aren't you going to ask me in?" "Sure! Come in." She walked past me and put her purse on the bed. "You have ten minutes to get dressed. We're heading down for dinner." "I didn't expect you, Lucy. What are you doing here?" "My mother did tell you I'd be in touch, didn't she? I'm here to discuss final arrangements. And I'm hungry, so I'll buy you dinner." I threw a jacket on. We softly treaded our way through old times over dinner. I didn't taste much of it. I was suffering from some kind of emotional overload. Lucy looked great. She always looked good, she was a pretty girl, but now there was a solid confidence in her, that made her that much more appealing. On the other hand, she was an ex-girlfriend, and I had a wife whom I preferred. We had split up once over the fact that we didn't have a future together, yet here we were, meeting in that future. I actually resented her for the invitation, and for the fact that I might have to attend this wedding. But I still harboured an attraction to her. I felt awkward. "About those arrangements," she began, as dessert was cleared away. "Shall we step into the bar?" I let out an internal sigh of relief. I had thought she might want to go back to my room, and I hadn't figured out how to turn her down. We found a private table in the bar. "What is it that you needed to discuss?" I asked her. "Honestly, nothing. I just wanted to see you before the wedding. So that it wouldn't be a shock for anyone." She smiled a shy little smile. "Actually, that wasn't honest. I want you there for our benefit, mine and John's. I want him to see who I've given up to be with him. I want him to be comfortable that I'm not going back to any of my exes. And I want my exes to realise that John is the right man for me. I know that all sounds selfish, perhaps even painful, but are you okay with that?" I stared at her for a little while, just trying to take in what she had said. I would go to a wedding that I didn't want to attend, for someone else's satisfaction. "Whatever. If that's what you want, why not?" "John would actually like to meet you at his bachelor party. Are you okay to attend that?" "Drinks are free?" "You'll have everything paid for." "Okay." I wasn't happy, but Lucy broke out in a huge smile. She wouldn't catch my eyes again though, and left quietly after her drink was finished. I was woken in the night. A curtain was flapping where the balcony window was open. As I stepped up out of bed to close the door a figure stood in front of me and began to say something. My instant, clear thought was that there was an intruder in my room. The emotion that followed that was anger, and I shouted obscenities at the intruder as I reached for the bedside lamp. In the next instant I was on my back on the bed, with a screaming pain pounding into the bone under my left eye. I kicked out as the figure approached, and registered a satisfying 'oof' as my foot connected. I went to stand and somehow managed to get the back of my head hit by something incredibly hard, and the world went black. I came to in a cold room, wearing nothing but my underwear. I tried to reach up to my pounding head but my hands were tied behind the chair I was sitting on. I looked around, and slowly focussed on a woman standing before me. It was Lucy. "Thank you for waking up at last, Michael. I was beginning to think that you had been hit too hard. Don't speak! It will hurt more than it's worth, and anyway, there's nothing for you to say." She was right, even thinking about speaking made my head pound harder. "To answer all your questions, you're here because I want you here, and purely for my own satisfaction, as I explained earlier. Let me tell you something about myself. My father left me in charge of a company. When I left England I had no idea he was dying, and when I found out I dearly wanted to speak to you, but you weren't man enough to give up what you wanted to come with me, so why would you be able to support me through that? "Anyway," she continued, "he devoted his last years to making sure I knew exactly how to run his interests. I learned to be ruthless, and somewhat selfish, but that's what works in this male dominated world. I think I'm now running his interests as well as he did. Did you know my father owned the second largest insurance company in Asia? No? Well, if you didn't know that, then you wouldn't know that his company was the largest shareholder in the bank that you work for, or that I own the hotel you were staying in. All the cards were stacked against you, Michael. You were going to attend John's bachelor party whether you wanted to or not. What now? Well, all the cards are still stacked against you. The second largest insurer in Asia is the largest medical insurer. I have more doctors, nurses, clinics and hospitals in my pocket than most governments, and some of them are going to be going to work on you. I also have more insurance claims investigators and private investigators than most police forces have detectives, so I know more about you than your wife does, have recorded every conversation you've had in the last week, and can spend the next three months pretending you're still studying to become a manager. She'll never know that you'll actually be becoming something else. "Don't worry though, I'll still get you back after the wedding, and you'll have a fantastic time at the bachelor party. Hey, I'll even make sure you do get a job back in England. What we're going to train you for over the next few months will give you a much larger income. With that, I'll leave you in the capable hands of the medical team. See you at the wedding!" I felt a prick in my shoulder, and Lucy faded from sight. My night was filled with dreams. Some lucid, some less so. It was the lucidity I feared as it brought with it pain. I could feel pains all over my body. Pretty nurses came in and out of my room and made sure I was lying comfortably. Serious doctors talked around me about progress, and asked me questions that I didn't understand. At one stage I remember coming around to a feeling of intense consternation, followed by an equally intense relief that was truly palpable, and I knew that I had passed through something serious. The pains began to fade, and dressings were changed. Forceful men and women began to pummel and stretch my body. I felt that my legs were being yanked apart, once. Another time I thought I woke to find myself with a pile of pillows under the small of my back. Maybe it happened more often, I don't remember. My first day out of bed was probably a dream, as within moments I passed out and found myself in a bed again. After that, however, I was helped around more and more. People treated me gently, and spoke to me gently. I was shown how to do things, like walk. I spent hours in rooms with music, and videos, and people talking in calming tones. There was a heartbeat rhythm of learning. I began to think in a language that seemed familiar almost as soon as I started to use it, though I needed help to frame the words. Once I began to speak, the fragmented images started to coalesce. My days were incredibly full, so everything was done quickly. I was learning to dance. I was learning to play the piano, and to sing. I received elocution lessons, and language lessons. I learned to read, then speed read, then pages were flashed by on screens, regularly paced. I learned fashion, I learned beauty, and I learned sex. There was a lot of sex. I began to role play with the teachers using my knowledge. That was the last part. The dreams ended. I looked around the dim room. A rack of costumes hung next to my dressing table. I was in the middle of applying foundation, as were the other four girls around the room. I had a strange feeling of deja vu. Only it wasn't quite deja vu. I had seen all of this before, but I felt like I hadn't. I remembered everything, but it was all so unfamiliar. And the feeling didn't pass. I called over to the girl to my right. "Susie?" "Yes?" She turned to me with a smile. I paused again. I knew her face, and I knew her name, but it was all new to me. "Susie, does this seem normal to you?" For the briefest instant her smile dropped as a cloud passed over her features. Then, just as instantly, it was painted on again. "Of course, Tiffany, like every night. Are you getting nervous again?" "I guess so." "Don't worry. It'll be the same as every night." She turned back to her mirror. The rest of the girls were silent. The same as every night. I would go out of the door into the club and wait until the men arrived. There were more girls there, we weren't the only ones. Slowly men would arrive and we would talk to them, try to get them to buy us drinks, eventually try to get them to come with us to the private rooms. At some stage we would do a set on the podium, stripping down and dancing. The same as every night. Why were all the girls silent? Why was nobody speaking? The same as every night. I could remember doing it so often. Why could I not remember doing anything else? What did I do before this? "Tiffany?" May, on my left, was looking at me. "You have to get ready, we're out in a couple of minutes." May spoke slowly and precisely. I know she spoke quickly with the other girls and the men. But she knew my Cantonese was not perfect. I could understand everything, but not speak fluently. "Thanks, May." I turned back to my mirror and completed my make-up. I looked at myself. I was blonde and caucasian. The others were asian. Why was I with them? How could I speak Cantonese? The door opened and an older woman invited us out. I stood and looked down at myself. I was wearing a long, blue diaphanous dress over a darker lace bra and thong. A suspender belt supported white stockings. I was standing on blue strappy sandals with three inch stiletto heels. I towered over the rest of the girls. The bra felt uncomfortable, so I shifted the straps on my shoulders. It wasn't really there for support, just for show. My large breasts hung heavily on the thin straps. I tousled my hair a little. As a blonde I was popular with the Chinese men. I kept it long and well styled. I walked forward with an easy gait. No- one would be out there yet, so it wasn't necessary to throw my hips around, just to glide out with practised economy. I searched out a familiar face. Shirlee was a Filipina who had the greatest dance moves of us all, and I constantly copied her. She was sitting with Toni, a slim Chinese girl. I sat down with them and we began to talk about the night before. We joked about men that I could barely recall, and about who had the latest and best moves. We talked about what we had done in the private rooms, and about who had made how much. The idea of making money seemed particularly important to me, but I couldn't understand why. The girls talked of clothes and jewellery, but I couldn't remember going shopping. I had both clothes and jewellery, but they were here. I couldn't recall a home, just a place to stay here. "Shirlee," I asked, "where do you live?" "I've got a studio on Des Voeux road. It's just down the way. You want to come around tonight? Chin walks me home as he lives a bit further up towards the docks." She continued talking about her apartment. How beautiful and simple it was, and about how she'd decorated it. As far as I knew, I didn't have an apartment, or any furniture. No matter how familiar it all seemed to be here, I couldn't remember a single thing about the night before. Yet I felt like I had a home, and a family. where had they gone? I came out of my introspection when Toni pointed out the first of the regulars arriving. It was a Saturday, and as such meant the quality of girls present was very high. Outside, in daylight, all of the Saturday girls would still be very attractive. In here, as the light dimmed, the alcohol flowed, and the sexuality was pumped higher, they were utterly stunning. Many of the girls spoke other languages. All spoke English well, of course. Many, including Shirlee, spoke fluent French, and I could converse in it. Some spoke German, and Spanish. Many worked as air hostesses. A couple were secretaries. One was a manageress in a hotel. I didn't seem to have another job. I felt that I didn't need another job. Being here seemed satisfying. The money was good. The company was good. The job was fun. At least, it always was. The early regulars were being lightly accosted by girls. There were twenty of us around, to the seven or eight arrivals. Later, as girls began to go to the private rooms, our numbers would swell to about forty. There might be fifty or sixty guys in at any one time. Often in large parties. I looked around the quiet room. Minka was up dancing. I would be next. I finished off a cold vodka orange and excused myself from the girls. I had about a minute to change into something a little less revealing, just so that I could remove it. I stepped out as I heard my track start up. I glided to the podium and put my purse down on it. It was as though I was just walking down the street and heard a great piece of music, or more to make the stage mine. I took hold of the pole and slid my hands down it slightly, keeping my legs straight on the heels, swaying my ass from side to side, and occasionally dropping my head down to look past it. I turned to face the main body of the room and slipped the straps of my lycra sheath dress over my arms. I hooked my thumbs into the top and stretched it down over my wiggling body. Folded down over my hips it became a skirt. I leaned forward to make sure that anyone watching knew that my large breasts were about to fall out of my small bra. Then I bent way down, legs straight, to pull the dress down to my feet. I stepped out of it next to my purse, and climbed high onto the pole. There I held myself up with my legs and let my head fall down below my feet, my tits truly about to break free. I pulled myself back up, slid back down the pole, and leaning my back against it began to slip the bra straps over my arms. I turned my back to the room to undo the clips, then hugged my chest and bent over to look at the room through my legs. Up, and back around, showing the room that I was still hugging my bra to my chest. Then Shirlee's patented flashing hands, and my other arm was across my boobs, the first now holding the bra out to dry. The rest was strutting, shaking, and swinging around the pole. My long blonde hair flew everywhere, which I knew was a suitably sexy replacement for trying to get my body to fly around everywhere. Some girls could spin round the pole like dervishes, but I had too much up top for that. Twenty seconds from the end of the set I stuck my smooth, heart shaped backside into the face of the room and slid my thong over it. I just had time to slide once around the pole and hang out, my neatly trimmed blonde bush on display for a moment. Someone might want to buy a dance with it. I picked up my clothes and purse, and headed back to dress. I liked the period after a set. It was the only time you could get the dressing room to yourself. Back on went my underwear, plus the suspenders and stockings from before. Before I put on the shift dress I touched up my make up. There was no one around to talk to or to make comment. It was peaceful. In a moment I would go out and try to get men to purchase private dances. My body was my sales pitch, and it rarely failed to get me a busy night. As I looked in the mirror I realised how lucky I was. White, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, Chinese men thought I was 'The American Dream'. Large breasts that were rarely found on asian girls only added to the Playboy impression. For a moment I felt myself standing outside my body, admiring myself with a feeling of desire. Something was wrong tonight. Nothing fit properly. There was nothing for it but to do what I knew, strangely little as it was. I adjusted my dress, tightened my sandal straps, and stepped back out into the club. The crowd grew quickly, and I soon found myself circulating among the clientele. The usual action was to sit next to someone, engage them briefly in small talk, and then invite them to a private room. There they would get a dance or a lap dance. They couldn't move or touch anything. Cameras kept an eye on them, and us. Sex was out of the question as the law made it clear that we would be shut down if clients were paying for sex. This wasn't a brothel. For me that was a pleasant rule. I didn't particularly find men attractive, although sex with them wasn't a weird thought. I seemed to recall sex with men though couldn't think of a specific occasion. It wasn't uncomfortable, nor unpleasant, but I wasn't really attracted. I found women much sexier and more attractive. I was invited to a number of private dances. Each time it was for the more expensive lapdance, and sometimes two. No money entered my hands, but a number of older women kept the accounts. My account for the night would be brimming over. I wondered what I would do with the money. I still don't remember doing anything with it before. I headed back over to the dressing rooms as I was due for another set, and not presently requested elsewhere. However, as I reached the door Gloria, one of the managing hostesses, caught up with me and pointed me towards a new group that had arrived at the main bar. "Sue Lee will take your set. Go to find Susie, Sue Wan and Tina Lee, and join May over there." I turned to glide back. Sue Wan and Tina Lee were the other girls that shared our dressing room. It seemed a little odd that clients would pick out that group. It was even odder when we met the group. A guy in a dark red suit checked us off from a list. Why would someone have a list of girls? Usually they picked whom they liked from the floor, and if they didn't then it was up to us to get there first. As usual I towered over most of the group, though there were a few who were still taller than me in my heels. Quite a few in the group looked fit. Very fit. A couple had an air of menace. Usually men lost that in the presence of so many girls, but these seemed like they didn't care, or were used to it. Red suit was talking to May, so I sidled up to a fit, younger looking lad, took his arm and asked him his name. May directed the group to seats. John and I sat together. From what I understood, a lot of the group were called John. It was both a common name and pseudonym. We talked together about very little, whilst I unsuccessfully tried to get John to purchase a private dance. I couldn't leave as drinks were provided. Champagne was brought for the entire group and John handed me a glass. We continued talking about very little, and I managed to engage another John in conversation. Of course, they wanted to know what I thought of the girl dancing. I think it was a local girl called Mikki. She was a small, short haired girl with false breasts that looked like half grapefruits. Her face was very sweet. She looked like a schoolgirl, a very valuable look. I would think she was better suited to ... to someone who was right on the tip of my tongue. I was certain that I was just about to remember something important. May came over and gently took my hand. I excused myself from the two men, stood, and went with her and the other girls towards the private rooms. She opened the door to number three and ushered us all in. There was one man from the group sitting in a the chair in the center. He was tall, well built, and quite handsome. Like many of the others in the group he appeared not at all flustered to be confronted by so many women about to strip in front of him. I guessed him to be the bachelor that the group was taking out. He'd had a few drinks, but seemed well within his capacity. He wouldn't need looking out for, like many drunks, but I could still sense danger. This man was a tiger, and we were in the cage with him. "Dance for me," he commanded, with a smile. "All of you." We began to dance, each finding a space within his vision, but out of each others' way. I began to sway to the music that was being pumped into the room. We all danced similarly, crouching down, shimmying up, stroking our hands over our bodies and ensuring that obvious parts of our anatomy met his eyes. The idea was to make him want sex. I felt a little disappointed when he pointed at Sue Wan first. "Start stripping," he told her. "The rest of you keep dancing." I concentrated more on him than on her, as I knew what she would be doing. He concentrated more on her than on me. As she removed her bra, however, he looked around again, and pointed at May. "Join in with her." The format was standard. May would dance gently with Sue Wan, who would slowly remove her clothes. Oils were available in the room if the client wanted close contact between the girls. for a minute they danced and stripped until both were topless. "Naked." The man stated. May turned and presented her ass to Sue Wan who slowly slipped her thong down. Both turned so that May was behind Sue Wan. She remained standing as May dropped her thong. As May stood, Sue Wan turned to face her and they danced together, presently their full nudity to the client in teasing snatches. He smiled. Then he waved them away. "Thank you, both. You may leave now." The three of us remaining stood aside as they collected their clothing and stepped through the door. He waved us to continue. Susie and Tina Lee got oiled up to dance together, as I looked on. Again, he smiled whilst watching them naked, then sent them away. "You," he said, clearly but gently, grabbing my attention. "I would like you to remove your dress and your thong, and then give me a lap dance." I smiled. "How long would you like, honey? For one song it's..." He cut me off. "Don't worry about the price, just keep going until I ask you to stop." I smiled again, and started to strip, with thoughts of banknotes piling up. I was soon in bra, stockings and suspenders, and heels, positioned in front of him. My legs were astride his, and my arms were either side of his neck, holding onto the back of his chair. He was smiling contentedly into my chest. After one track I stood to slip off my bra, at which he nodded approvingly. I slowly slipped off the shoulder straps, and held them up in front of him. Then I gradually pulled them down and the cups with them, releasing my tits so that my nipples were waving in front of his mouth. He opened his mouth, but didn't move towards them. I managed to place the end of each nipple into his mouth without touching his lips. His eyes were bulging, but he didn't touch. I finished the dance by gently rocking my ass cheeks and crotch back and forth over the tent pole in his trousers. It wasn't strictly permitted, but it was fun. Finally he asked me to stop. I went to pick up my clothes, but he stopped me. "I haven't seen you naked yet," he observed. I crossed my legs and bent down straight to untie my shoe buckles, then straightened up and stepped back out of them. I undid each stocking clip, and removed the suspender belt. Straight legged again I rolled the stockings down to my toes, then stood back up and used my feet to pull them off. I stood before him entirely nude, one knee crossed in front of the other, and my hands supporting my breasts. He slowly looked me up and down. I smiled as I shook my hair back away from my face. "You are stunning," he stated, quite emotionally, almost sighing. "My wife could not have come up with a more imaginative, or beautiful, wedding gift." I didn't really understand what he was talking about, but I enjoyed the compliment. "Neither could she have come up with a more subtle warning, as I think you are also that." He closed enigmatically. He stood and exited, leaving me alone in the room. I woke gradually, rising as if from the depths of a dream. I could hear my name. "Michael. Michael!" I didn't recognise it at first. I recognised the voice. Lucy was in my room. I reached slowly up to the back of my head, but I couldn't feel any pain there. I could clearly remember hitting it on something, but it felt like an age ago. I opened my eyes and took in the light coming in through the gauzy drapes, and Lucy standing at the end of my bed. "At last, Michael, you're awake. How are you feeling?" I moved up onto my elbows, and felt a gross lurch on my chest. Something had rolled across and was tugging slightly on my sternum. I looked down and pulled the bed cover up slightly with my right hand. A rounded mound of flesh was hanging down off my right pectoral, covering that side of my chest entirely. The same on the left. I dropped the blanket to inspect it with my hand. Everything I touched sent back sensations that told me that this was my chest, but there was a lot more of it. It was soft. It was squidgy. To my hand it felt like a breast, and to my chest it felt the same. "Ah, yes, you've discovered that you have tits, Michael." Lucy walked around to the side of my bed and sat down. She reached towards my head and brought someting forward while pulling my hair. She showed me some blonde curls. "This is yours too. It's very attractive." I reached up to my head and pulled my hair myself. It was attached to my head, and it was long and blonde. I'd never grown my hair long. "What's going on?" I choked, almost unable to get the question out. "Don't you remember the clinic, Michael, where I told you what I would be doing to you? Well, it's done. You've become something else, a trained stripper, a girl. Would you like to see?" She took me by the hand and dumbly I got out of bed after her. The arm she took was skinny, like I'd lost a huge amount of weight. My breasts bounced as I walked awkwardly. I felt off balance. The skin on my chest tugged at me. In front of me, on the wardrobe, was a full length mirror. In it I saw a woman. A lone woman, there was nothing else in the room. She had long, blonde hair that was high and lowlighted. She had big, blue eyes staring straight back at me. The lashes were long and full. Her cheekbones were high like mine. The skin over them was smooth and tight, defining them but not pronouncing them. The cheeks sloped more to a smaller jaw. Her lips were large over the chin, red, bowed and pouting. The straight nose was slim in comparison. My eyes traveled down her body and took in the vast pair of tits that covered her chest. They were firmly rounded, and hung an inch either side of her torso. It was the first bust that I had ever seen that showed a cleavage without the aid of a bra. There was a small stud in her belly button, and below that nothing. I was looking at a blonde bush that did little to hide the pink lipped slit between her legs. The legs themselves were long and smooth. Her toes were painted. I looked at my own toes, and they were painted. Little else was visible due to the new breasts that I carried, and the hair that fell across my face. I felt weak and slightly sick, and my legs buckled. "Come, now, Michael!" snapped Lucy, dragging me up by the arm. "Swooning is a rather girly thing, don't you think?" "What happened to me?" "We've been through this already, honey. You've been subjected to the latest and best in medical techniques, resulting in a convincing gender change. Look, you need to get dressed. I've laid some stuff out by the dressing table. You carry on and I'll let you know what's happened." I wandered listlessly over to the dressing table. On the seat lay some red underwear, including a big bra. There was a red shirt, or blouse, rather, and a black skirt. There was a foot of a stocking sticking out from the pile, pointing to a pair of knee high black boots with narrow high heels. "I can't wear these." I complained, half to myself. "Because they're women's clothes? Honey, you're a woman now. Those clothes suit you. The bra is a necessity. I promise you, it will be the greatest assistance you'll have in dealing with your new form. Anyway, that's all I left out. The rest is packed away." I looked over at two suitcases standing at the foot of the bed where Lucy was seated. She tapped one with her foot. "I know what you're thinking, but sorry, no men's clothes in here. I bought you a whole new wardrobe which really brings out the look I think you should have. I don't mind you changing it, but that would be a waste of some expensive shoes." "Can I change my body?" I interjected, fiddling with the bra. "You've had a genital transplant. I suppose you could have another one if you could find a donor. Your organs don't work, in the sense that you're infertile, but they're otherwise perfect. We spent months sourcing a donor. I had all your samples and records copied over to here a long while ago. Do you remember your last medicals? Your doctor was actually injecting you with female hormones, including a couple of quick release implants. I told you that all the cards were stacked against you. You were well prepared for the operation, and we had a match, yet even then your body initially tried to reject the new organs. We almost lost you at one stage. If you tried to swap back, without all those preparations, who knows what might happen? "And I wouldn't advise a breast reduction. Fat distributes itself fairly evenly according to bodily proportions. If you have a reduction, proportionally more fat will be stored on your hips and rear. And you will store fat. You'll be a pear!" "These aren't real, though. I'll just have the implants removed." Lucy pulled a vial from her pocket, and held it up. It contained an opaque liquid. "These are your implants. This is really clever stuff. This vial is probably worth about the same as a small car. We're working on getting the price down to compete with sac implants. It's not actually a liquid, but can be injected like one. A biologically inert silicate is ground down to incredibly fine particles. The particles are coated in a molecule thin layer of a substance that acts as a fat magnet. It's like oil on water. One side bonds with the silicate, the other with fat. The particles are too large to enter the bloodstream, and don't break down, so remain where they are injected. Liposculpture now works. "For you, of course, this means that you can't just remove your implants, only have a reduction. Not wise." I finally got the bra clipped together and pulled up. I started to adjust the shoulder straps to see if I could get them comfortable. Either they dug in, or they gave me no support and my breasts tugged down on my collarbone. Finally, in mute discomfort, I settled on the least frustrating position. I reached down to pick up the knickers and felt the bra doing its job. "Your musculature atrophied naturally," Lucy continued, "as zero exercise, liquid nutrition and hormones took their toll. We did make sure you got a good stretching routine, and stimulated certain required muscles. You are very supple now, but you need to be, as a dancer. Your slim waist is all diet and corsetting. You may find your stomach has shrunk. You won't be able to eat much, but that'll keep you in trim. Most of the rest is standard cosmetic surgery and beauty treatments. Your face is surgery. Your voice likewise. I wanted it higher but the results couldn't be predicted. You have a very pleasant alto, perhaps a little deep, but then you're a big girl. We couldn't do much about your height. We lengthened your hair with extensions, but you're a natural blonde, and it's coming through. I'd suggest you keep it light. Oh, there's a tattoo on the back of your neck. If you want to be taken seriously, I suggest you keep your hair below your shoulder blades." "What does it say?" "Ask your next boyfriend! A lot of your face is tattooed also. That's cosmetic. I realise you won't have much idea about makeup yet so we've made the basics permanent. Of course, you'll have to practise if you want to change anything." I had my knickers and blouse on, and was just zipping up the skirt at the side. It was a pleated miniskirt, that went about half way down my thighs. I began to button the silky red blouse. "Why can't I remember any of this?" "Trauma? Memory lapse? We had a few psychologists in. There was probably a reaction to the amount of drugs we pumped into you to keep you docile and in a suggestible state. We were using a lot of accelerated learning techniques and we needed you absorbent like a sponge. You learned about a thousand words of Cantonese in a morning! As the drugs are cleansed from your system you'll probably start to remember stuff. We stopped doping you about a week ago, but you've only been showing signs of lucidity the last couple of nights. The timing was good for this morning. Anyway, you'll remember that we've taught you another language, and improved your French. You've learned to dance a little, play some piano, do your hair and makeup, and a load about fashion and dress. Like I say, it will come to you, but you'll need practice." I rolled the stockings up my leg in fluid motions. Not much practice would be required for some things. They were garter tops, staying up without suspenders. I slipped my feet into the boots and zipped them up at the back. I was a little disconcerted about the height of the heels. Lucy noticed. "We taught you to walk and talk again, so that should all be natural. And you have a new name to go with the face." She handed me a black leather purse, matching the boots. I opened it and discovered a British passport. Also a driving license, a smaller wallet for money, a selection of cosmetics, some pantyliners, a number of loose condoms, a decorated box, and an airline ticket. I took out the passport. There was my new face, and next to it was my new name. Sarafina T Michaels. Sarafina was awful, but the T stood for Tiffany. I felt comfortable with Tiffany. I shook my head. How could I feel comfortable with Tiffany? I inspected the flight ticket. "The ticket is for today," Lucy stated, standing up. "In fact, you've only got a few hours, and the traffic is unpredictable. We'd better get going." I noted the date. "It's your wedding date." "I know, and I know I invited you, but after the way you carried on at the bachelor party I think it would be prudent if you didn't show up." She walked over to the door and opened it. A large man came in. "This is David, my driver. He will accompany you to your plane." David came over and picked up the suitcases. "A couple of points Michael, or should I say Tiffany? A couple of points. I know you're in shock, so I'll keep it short and simple. You'll come round fully soon, and realise exactly what I've done. I didn't do it for you, but for my marriage. I think he got the message. I could have just dumped you in the harbour, but instead I've given you a future. I'm sorry it's not the one you wanted but make of it what you can. "Don't come back to Hong Kong. Your passport is blacklisted." She pushed me out of the door and I shuffled away behind her driver. She called from the door. "Oh, and Janice knows nothing about this!" The door closed.