The Womanless Beauty Pageant - Part 11 Of 11 free porn video

The Womanless Beauty Pageant - Part 11 of 11 The only thing worse than being pressured into participating in a womanless beauty pageant, is to finish in last place. The ramifications of that experience turned out to be life changing, for Miss Bobby. As Co-authors, Monica and I have a couple of very special ladies to thank, both are icons in the TG community. The first is Vickie Tern. Without her encouragement and inspiration this story would never have been written. The second is our muse, Kelly Ann Rogers; her midcourse corrections were vital to the story's completion. As the authors we hope you enjoy reading this bit of fun. If anyone wishes to build off our FFL cub theme; you have our permission and encouragement. Marina Joy and Monica Rose :) * * * * * Bright and early the morning after the date, Sue banged on Bob's door and yelled, "Bobby! Open up and let me in!" Bob rubbed the sleep from his eyes and thought, 'Oh hell I'm in for it now.' He wrapped a sheet around himself, toga style and staggered to the door. He opened it slowly squinting into the bright sunlight. Sue pushed her way in and saw Bob standing there looking like hell, large bags under eyes that were red and puffy, hair uncombed. "Susan. It's Sunday morning. What are you doing here?" Bob braced himself for the explosion, what came took him by surprise, "It's Sunday, have you forgotten about our brunch date? Your truck is at my house so I decided to pick you up. We can get your vehicle after our celebration. Get dressed and, for God's sake, do something with your hair." Bob stumbled to his makeshift closet and found a yellow housedress that was at least clean, if not wrinkle free. Bob went to the boxes that held his underwear and rifled through then until he found a pair of white cotton, Hanes for her briefs. He dropped the sheet exposing his nakedness; he turned his back on Susan embarrassed by the diminutive size of his package and stepped into the briefs. As he tried to pull them a problem developed, he hadn't removed his butt pads and the briefs wouldn't go over his ass and hips. Sue solved the problem by finding a tiny rose-colored thong and helped her husband put it on. Bob was not thrilled by the selection; nevertheless once Bob had properly tucked, it kept his modest man parts out of the limelight. He stepped into the dress, Sue buttoned it for him. She sat Bobby down and spent several minutes combing the rats out of his hair. Finally satisfied, Sue tied his hair in a ponytail, sat beside him on his vanity stool and applied the minimum makeup of foundation, blush, mascara, and lipstick. As Bob slipped his feet into a pair of modest two inch heels Sue declared him ready to go. At her car, Sue held the passenger door open and waited for Bob to enter, she slid into the driver's seat and turned to face Bobby, "Damn you to hell Bobby Turner!" 'Here it comes,' thought Bob. "Aren't you going to even ask me about the contract?" In a plaintive voice he said, "I'm sorry for my lack of manners Miz Turner." "Knock off the phony submissive platitudes Robert. When I left Jos? last night he was leaning towards signing with a company in Pensacola. This morning at 6 AM he showed up with the contracts signed and notarized. He told me his brother insisted they do business with us. Girlfriend, I don't know how you did it, but you won over Roberto and got me the deal of a lifetime. Just what did you do?" "Oh, it was nothing; I simply followed your instructions and did whatever it took to keep him happy. I just went a little bit farther than flirting." Sue looked at him expectantly, obviously anticipating an explanation. When she was that Bob had no intention of continuing, she said, "Let's go to the club, I called and Kim will open early, I've had my eye on this micro bikini that's going to look fabulous on you." Standing in the changing room Sue said, "I hate to do it, your ass is so hot but we really need to get your butt pads off. We're going to spend the day drinking and frolicking in the pool." @ @ @ @ That night, after a day of drinking in the hot sun, a very tanned and tipsy Bob worked on a spreadsheet that planned out his days leading up to the pageant. He was this close; he was not going to leave any stone unturned to win the contest. If he kept to a rigid schedule and was willing to sacrifice a little sleep, he could get in three exercise periods a day. Finding time to eat was not a problem. He had no money for food. His gift shop salary all went to truck insurance, gas, rent and utilities. He could, beg, and steal food while he was at Sue's house. Malinda was nice and saved leftovers for him. As he surfed the net he ran across a blog that discussed a new procedure for butt enhancement called Hydrogel, where you are injected with a water-soluble polymer that almost instantly reshapes your buttocks. 'Thanks be to God; the answer to my prayers,' thought Bob The first thing Monday morning Bob was back at Doctors Al's office. Bobby excitedly listened as the doctor went over his options to get a booty boost. He had explained for the third time why he had to enhance the volume and shape of his buttocks. "Bobby, there is a number of options for what you want. Surgical implants are the most obvious which are expensive and then there is the recovery time. There are a large selection of creams and herbal supplements that claim to be effective. Bobby, you have a beautiful body, I would think after last time you fucked with Mother Nature you'd have learned your lesson concerning unregulated supplements." "Doctor, I read on Craigslist about these injectable solutions which claim to produce phenomenal results almost instantaneously." "Bobby, these 'treatments' are typically offered by non-physicians, and are dangerous. There is a reason there are no injectables of any kind, other than a patient's own fat. That's currently approved for buttock enhancement in the United States. It is because, to date, none of them are safe, no matter what they are called. Being a plastic surgeon, I see patients all the time asking similar questions to yours." "Doctor you said you can use a person's fat, could you take the nauseating fat from my love handles and move it to my behind?" "Yes, what you're asking is rather a routine procedure, it's called fat transfer. We harvest fat cells from your tummy or in your case sides and insert it to your buttocks. It's not something that's easily reversible. You should give this a good deal of thought." Bobby literally got on his knees and begged for the doctor's help; he explained it was a life or death matter as far as he was concerned. The doctor took pity on Bobby he was such a delightful person, and moreover the doctor really had a thing for hot blonde girls like Bobby. "Well...I could squeeze you in, if it's that important to you. It'll have to be after normal working hours, we could do it next Sunday afternoon. Does Sue know what you're planning?" "No doctor I want this to be a surprise, please don't tell her." "Alright, I'll do it, how are you going to pay for it?" "That's another issue, can we work something out?" "I've a nurse going on maternity leave, I could use help in the evenings with data entry of patient records. It requires some computer savvy. Do you think you're up to it?" When Bob started kissing Alicia's hand, she put a stop to it and escorted him out into the waiting room. The Sunday after his brunch with Sue, Bob went to the clinic. Several hours later, he took a cab home from the clinic, sore and bandaged but happy as a pig in slop. He spent the night sleeping on his stomach, thankful he would not have to rely on padding anymore, and, more to the point, getting that superglue off was a pain in the ass. Now he was all natural. The only problem was that none of his corsets fit anymore. The liposuction combined with his diet and exercise had rendered them useless. Bob dreamily thought, 'Now's that a problem most women would kill for.' @ @ @ @ The weeks seemed to fly by. Bob was getting very little sleep, but his preparations were going swimmingly. In fact since his latest procedure he has doubled his bikini sales and had picked up several dozen dinner invitations - not counting the occasional obscene proposition. He spoke only in his female voice, he wasn't sure if he would ever be able to switch back to his normal baritone voice. That's something he would worry about later. The last few days approaching the contest were an agony; time was of the essence as he had so many last minute details to take care of. Bob was determined not to be the stereotypical airhead beauty contestant, so he swapped out his beauty magazines for news publications and spent every free minute keeping abreast of current events. He and Malinda finished his last fitting and she declared his pageant ensemble ready to go. She did recommend that he shave all over, his outfits, especially his swim suit were rather revealing. @ @ @ @ With one day to go, Bob was getting antsy. He considered shaving, but thought back to the last time he shaved his legs which resulted in a significant loss of blood. Then he remembered the beauty college's free waxing clinics on Saturday - dare he go there again? Bob went on line and found normal beauty parlor prices for full body waxing extremely expensive. Having no money he decided he had no choice. As long as Pierre wasn't involved he would be fine, so back to the beauty college he went. He drove his truck, talked to Judy the manager and boldly went where no man had gone before -- into the waxing room. Bob sat nervously waiting, in bounced a girl who look to still be in middle school, she introduced herself as Buffy. "Miss what is you want done today?" she asked. "I want the works, I want it all gone." Bob foolishly responded. She examined his sheet and excused herself. Ten minutes later she returned followed closely by Pierre. "What's he doing here!" demanded Bob. "I'm sorry sir, but since the records show you're a male, if I'm going to treat you down there we need a chaperone. Pierre is the only man available. I assure you he is only here to supervise." "I want him out of the room unless you are actually working on my privates. He doesn't touch me understood!" said Bob vehemently. Pierre stepped behind the curtain but stayed to listen. Buffy explained the procedure and had Bob sign the standard waver forms. When she discussed how painful the procedure was, Bob stood to leave; Buffy stopped him, "Sir we hear that a lot. I can offer you two options; one is a glass of wine, the other is a valium to calm your nerves and help ease the discomfort." "I'll have both!" Buffy argued, "Sir, that's not allowed, let me check with my manager." Pierre waited behind the curtain and smiled, this guy always seemed to give him an opening. He said, "He's the customer give him what he wants. I'll take responsibility. We're old friends, I know him well." Bob took his drugs and alcohol, and he immediately relaxed. The lack of rest caught up to him. He was soon sound asleep; he felt nothing for the next hour. Buffy did a magnificent job, there wasn't on hair anywhere below his eyebrows. She got ready for the brow waxing and asked Pierre, "How much do I take off? He's out of it or I would ask the customer." Pierre mentally rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "What were his instructions?" "I want it all gone. But that can't be right." Imperiously, Pierre said, "Young lady, the customer is always right, just do it!" Bob awoke a short time later and felt groggy. The first thing he saw was Pierre standing with a smug look on his face. "Bobby like I promised, I never came near you. My assistant did it all. I can assure you there isn't a hair anywhere to be found." Bob looked down at his body and was amazed he was baby bottom smooth. He stood and gathered his clothes when he glanced in a mirror. "Holy shit, what happened to my eyebrows?" "You told the girl you wanted everything gone, she was just following your directions." "I have the pageant tonight. I can't go on looking like this. Isn't there anything you can do?" "Well there's one thing but you'd have to ask nicely." "Please, pretty please Pierre, do whatever it takes to fix this." "Alright sit in that chair I'll be right back with my equipment." He came right back carrying a try with what looked like magic markers. "These are the latest thing in makeup. Paint on the cosmetics; it's actually a dye. The point on the end of pen vibrates and forces the dye deep into the skin. Now let's see you certainly don't want bushy brows. How about really thin ones, with a super high arch. That will give you a really glam look. Do you want brown or black? I'd recommend black they really stand out better particularly if you're going to be under a spotlight." "Just do it. Get it over with already." "Patience young lady, a true artist can't be rushed." Finally given the chance to look Bob about fainted. He now was the proud owner of dramatic pencil thin brows with unnaturally high arches that gave him a perpetual surprised expression. Bob got dressed in a huff and headed for the door, "I suggest you put some ice on the brows it'll keep the swelling down. Aren't you going to thank me?" asked Pierre in a snooty tone. "Go to hell" said Bob as he headed for the truck. Then he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He spun around on his hells, stormed back into the room and walked up to a surprised Pierre and said "How very rude of me, Thank you for your service. Here is something to remember me by." He opened his purse as if to find his wallet then Bob kicked Pierre in the balls as hard as he could. As Pierre flopped on the floor writhing in pain, Bob bent over and said, "Here's your tip. Always wear a cup to work. Because every time I see you in the future I'm going to dropkick your balls into tomorrow. Have a good day; I suggest you put ice on those. It'll keep the swelling down." Bob rushed home to get ready for the show. His first task was to ensure his man parts stayed out of sight. He sprayed his flaccid pecker with medical adhesive; waiting for the glue to get tacky he stuffed his jewels away. One hand prevented their escape, while the other pushed his member into his ass crack and held it until the glue had set. Bob strolled to the bathroom to ensure everything would remain firmly hidden from view when he walked. He watched his refection in the mirror as he slowly turned to ensure that no tell-tale bulges showed. Bob was pleased with his body, his waist was down to 24 inches, and his butt was gorgeous firm and round. His boobs well, they were supersized but in his opinion quite magnificent. Satisfied everything would stay in place, he put on a pair of lacy panties and matching Bali bra. He covered those in a nondescript grey sweat suit, and sneakers, with his hair in a simple ponytail. He grabbed his imitation Coach handbag and loaded everything into his truck. During his drive to the club, he was nervous but not apprehensive like last year. He parked next to the stage door, in a section reserved for participants. He lugged everything to his assigned dressing area in one trip. He was astounded to find Fran and two other ladies already nestled into the small cubbyhole that had been assigned to him. Fran stood and hugged Bob, "Bobby, I'm here to help you get ready. These are two of my friends, Rose and Monica, they happen to be the finest cosmeticians in the area. The rulebook says you must apply your own makeup and do your own hair. But there is nothing in the regulations that says you can't have expert coaches supervising. Just follow our advice and we'll walk you through this. You'll be the girl of your dreams when we're finished." Ninety-five minutes later, they helped Bob wrestle into his interview dress. It was a pencil skirt dress with three-quarter length sleeves that showed off his amazing curves there was no give at all; the dress was sown to his exact measurements, it gave him a fantastic silhouette and ensured Bob would only take mincing girlie steps. It was made of a satin fabric in a dusky rose color and fit him like a glove that accentuated what Bob had come to think of as his best feature: his derriere. Bob hugged his friends in thanks. His hair was up in a sophisticated birds nest bun hairstyle which drew attention to his long swanlike neck and his earrings, the same ones he had worn on his date with Roberto. Sue had re-gifted them and insisted he keep them as a thank you for his help. Sue had never talked about that night again and he was just as happy to forget it himself. With wishes of good luck from his friends and a promise to be there during his costume changes, he took his place in the line of contestants as they waited for the parade on stage. A number of the 'girls' were obviously suffering from stage fright. Bob made the effort to talk to each of them, finding something with each girl to compliment. He took the opportunity to closely scrutinize his competition. Phil was nowhere to be seen, Bob wondered if he'd changed so much he was unrecognizable. No matter, Bob was confident his presentation was more feminine than the others. He was positioned behind his only real competition, a young statuesque beauty well over six feet tall, with a figure to die for, who called herself Lile O'Shaughnessy, her first name she pronounced Lee-lah and said it, meant Lily. She spoke with a lilting Irish brogue and had long silky vibrant chestnut hair, which hung down past her shoulder blades. Unlike the other contestants she'd forgone a dress for her introduction. She wore a pair of tight jeans that appeared to have been painted on; they were short enough to show nicely turned ankles above a pair of simple shiny kid shoes with a one inch stacked heel and a gold accent at the vamp. Her top was covered by a sweater that strained to contain her prodigious womanly charms. Her makeup was heavy but professionally applied. The procession was led to the stage. Bob navigated the stairs with a little difficulty, momentarily regretting the tight pencil skirt. He assumed his place on the stage, this time in the front row. When it was his turn, Bobby strolled to the microphone in five inch stilettos with regal grace brought on by total confidence and countless hours of practice. He introduced himself as Miss Bobby and was proud to represent Ms. Susan Turner. He had no trouble with the interview as he used his sweet feminine voice and flirted outrageously with the judges as he fluttered his long lashes and smiled winsomely for them. He answered every question truthfully. One Q and A exchange got the crowd buzzing. He was asked what he thought about men and women in the workplace. He responded, "Men are a vital necessity, I think every woman should own one or two, who else will do the manual labor?" The rest of the interview process was a blur for Bobby as he switched to auto pilot brought on by the thousands of mental repetitions he'd envisioned over the year. Bob was on his way back to the dressing room when he spotted a familiar face. But it was out of place with the costume. It was his old friend Pierre, in heavy drag queen makeup, carrying a serving tray of full punch glasses circulating among the audience. He was wearing a long flowing pink wig. His waist was pulled into an impossibly small dimension. He wore fetish six inch stilettos. And to top it all off he had on an outrageous pink playboy bunny costume complete with ears and tail. Bob tried to stop Pierre to find out what was going on; but when he called his name the sexed up rabbit put one hand over his crotch and pretended not to hear and walked away. Bob did manage to attract his sister's attention. Judy came over and congratulated Bobby on his performance so far. "I see you've seen my brother. As a small business owner, I was invited to join FFL. I though after what Pierre did to you today it is only fair he provide a form of entertainment between events. The ladies are having a ball making him run all over the auditorium." Bob smiled at the delicious irony of the situation. "His waist looks so small how in the world did you do that?" Judy returned his smile. She had learned about the indignities Pierre had subjected Bob to over the past year. That kind of behavior was not what she wanted her salon to be known for and it gave her some satisfaction to visit some of that treatment upon her brother. "It took two strong men to get him in the waist cincher and another to hold him down while they tightened it down to 24 inches. I hope he likes it. It's not coming off for the foreseeable future." Bob smiled even wider. Revenge tasted so sweet, especially when someone else served it up for you. "I love it, could you have him come to my dressing room with say a half dozen glasses of punch." "Sure thing Bobby, I'll have him hop right over. Good luck. I'll bring Pierre by after the contest to say hello. He's doesn't know it yet but he's going to be joining the serving staff here at FFL on a permanent basis. @ @ @ @ The evening gown competition was a roaring success. Bob strode down the runway like a professional model in his backless chiffon gown in divine lavender. Its design forced Bob to go braless for this portion on the contest. However it allowed Bob to work his titty bounce to its maximum. The dress flowed with his every movement. It really accentuated his natural resources. A pair of outrageous sin inch heels decorated in rhinestones completed his outfit. His hair flowed gently over his bare shoulders and ended in a gentle upsweep. As he walked, his senses were bombarded by very unmanly sensations. The soft tactile caress of his dress, the seductive kiss of his hair as it brushed against his neck and shoulders, the taste of his lipstick, the rhythmic bounce of his breasts; all threatened to overwhelm his senses. As he reached the end of the stage walkway, he did a flawless pirouette on the icicle thin stilettos that Alex had lent him. As he sashayed past the judges he had a coquettish smile on his face and he put a little extra wiggle in his waggle, much to the crowd's delight. @ @ @ @ Swimsuit competition was next. The girls worked their magic on Bob, his hair and makeup was flawless. When he walked on stage wearing a pair of wedge-heeled sandals that made his butt extend provocatively. His hair was teased up and finished with several pretty white satin ribbons. His swimsuit caused an instant hush to fall over the audience. It was an infinitesimally small string bikini in neon pink. The string halter-top featured an underwire push up bikini top with silver metallic trim that displayed loads of creamy white flesh that contrasted magnificently to his golden tan. The top just barely covered his large dark areolas and his thick nipples tented out from the material. The bralette was connected to his thong bottoms by way of a series of florescent rubber bands that caused the skimpy briefs to ride up his butt crack. Bob worked his boobs like wily little seductresses. They poked proactively out of his bikini top, and flaunted their fabulousness. They turned every red-blooded heterosexual male in the place into a panting pile of mush. As Bob made his made his way to the end of the runway, he made a vigorous swinging turn. It was at that moment he had an equipment malfunction, his right boob pooped out. There was an instantaneous uproar from the audience. Everyone was on their feet applauding. Bob squished everything back in place and never missed a beat. It was almost as if it had been rehearsed. He passed the judges, smiled mischievously and gave them a big theatrical wink. Sue stared up at her husband in awe, thinking back to the clown that was up there last year. The woman next to Sue leaned over and said, "It would take a gynecologist to tell he wasn't really one of us." @ @ @ @ Talent competition. Bob was initially going to dress down for this in a drab housewife outfit, but since this was the final competition he decided he needed to give the judges something more memorable. He pranced on the stage in a silver-gray ankle-length silk skirt and a matching full sleeved blouse. His hair was in ringlets that fell to the sides and framed his face in femininity. He stopped midstage and the audience waited to see what he would do as an encore after his previous presentations. There was a mild murmur as an assistant wheeled out a cart with a large devil's-food cake in white frosting on it. Without saying a word Bob reached beneath the cart and took out several pastry bags. As everyone watched, Bob decorated the sides with swirl pipes. He then added several large cabbage roses on top. When he was finished he announced he had baked the cake and it would be served during the reception. Bob gave a signal and the judges were all presented cupcakes with the FFL club logo design on top. He stood center stage and explained why he had chosen this particular talent to demonstrate. Bob announced he had also made all the outfits he had worn and explained if a man was to be a true helpmate he needed to master all the domestic skills, not just look pretty. He received only a smattering of applause as he exited the stage. @ @ @ @ The judges conferred and submitted their ballots. The girls were weeded out ten at a time until it was down to the five finalists. Bob stood ramrod still with a serene smile plastered on his face trying not to show his inner turmoil. Then it was down to three girls, him, Lile O'Shaughnessy, and a cute pixie of a girl called Samantha Grant. The second runner up was announced, Samantha was gone. Bob gave Samantha the perfunctory hug and she cried real tears of desperation. "My aunt is going to kill me for losing to you." Samantha had to be forced off the stage so the presentations could continue. Bob was confused by her actions. Once calm had been restored he relaxed; there would be no shame in losing to Lile. A drum roll, two spots were focused on the stage, one on Bobby the other on Lile. Everyone held their breath and then the first runner up was announced. It was Bobby. For him, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Totally unplanned he began to cry, tears of joy. Sue sat in the first row and was devastated, her husband had lost. There was a murmur; all the ladies surrounding her began to whisper that Bobby had been robbed. Sue watched her hubby shedding tears, and thought, 'He's so like a woman. I do love him so.' Bob gave the winner his heartfelt congratulations and slowly made his way down the stairs to find his wife. Having come in second he was apprehensive about his reception. He needn't have been. Bob was thunderstruck at her reaction. She greeted him as a conquering hero. Her eyes shined with glee, and she displayed a 10,000-watt smile. She rushed to Bobby and presented him a large bouquet of red roses. Before he could say a word she threw her arms around him the roses pressed between their bodies and said, "Good heavens Bobby you were magnificent." "But Susan, I lost." "Don't be daft, I don't care what place you came in, it was your effort that was important. You won every category but one, the talent contest was your downfall. I thought the cake decorating concept was ideal; no one has ever used that as a talent. You definitely had to think out of the box to come up with that one." "Well Suzy, since I don't have a box, I'd no choice but to think outside of one." A remark that produced a smile from his wife. Sue threw herself at Bob and kissed him with great vigor then said, "Who could have envisioned such an amazing vocal performance from Veronica's son...that O'Shaughnessy woman. She sang a Connemara lullaby in Irish none the less, and with a voice as sweet as the morning dew rising over Dublin. Sue said "It was as professional a rendition as I've ever heard." Then she jokingly asked, "I wonder if Veronica' had him fixed to keep his voice from changing?" "But enough of her, let's talk about my Bobby. I'm so proud of you. Bob, I knew you'd eventually come around, still it means a lot to me when it came to fruition. We're going to be gloriously happy together, now you have adjusted your attitude about woman's rights." At that moment Alex and Erika appeared out of the throng each carrying flowers for Bobby. He cried tears of joy, in the midst of a group hug his runner-up tiara fell off as he struggled to hold all the flowers. Sue picked it up and placed it on his head crowning him "Queen Bobby for life." Sue was effusive in her praise, to the point Bob blushed at the compliments, Sue teased him. "You're blushing like a school girl. I love you for it. You showed me and the other ladies that you cared enough to swallow your macho pride and let out your feminine side." With a bewitching grin, Sue said, "The belly button ring caught me by surprise. When did you do that?" Bob cooed, "Three weeks ago, I wasn't going to do it; but once I no longer needed a corset I couldn't resist. I think it's, Oooh so sexy with my bikini." Sue was swept off with some of the ladies from the club, leaving Bobby in the clutches of Candy. There was no subtlety in the way Candy tried to humiliated and hurt Bob. She glibly teased, "You know it has been fun watching as Sue stripped away your masculinity layer by layer. You do realize you'll be riding sidesaddle from now on?" When Candy couldn't get a rise out of Bob, her face suddenly knitted into an ugly grimace as she congratulated Bob on being the runner up or first loser as she pointed out. "I'll give the devil his due; your performance far exceeded my wildest expectations. I was sure you were going to make an ass of yourself again. Bobby, let's call a spade a spade, whatever your recent successes, you're still a promiscuous male whore. Your aberrant behavior will be your downfall, I promise you that." "You even beat out my nephew. Something he will regret." "Samantha is your nephew?" "Yes for a little while longer. My sister sent him to me when he got his girlfriend pregnant and refused to marry her. You were fighting to save your marriage; Sam was fighting to save his manhood. As a motivational tool, I told him if he lost to you I was going to cut off his nuts. It's a contest neither of you seems to have won. Sam's orchiectomy is scheduled for Monday afternoon. He came to me as a young man and will go home a steer. I bet he wishes he'd married that girl now. He'll remain a man slightly longer than your marriage will last." Candy's comments discombobulated Bob. Before he could get an explanation Veronica came on stage and stood in a bright spotlight, "I want to thank everyone who participated in tonight s gala. The exact amount isn't in yet but by all indications it is a club record. Rest assured every cent of the proceeds will be used to topple the current patriarchy. Now would all of our lovely contestants please reassemble on stage for the auction?" Bob pondered Candy's threat as he made his way back to the stage. This year they sold off the competitor's worst to first. The ending of the auction was purely nerve wracking. The bids were all done by paddle, with the house lights in the eyes of the contestants they had no idea who was bidding. Hell, Bob may have been sold to the Marquis de Sade for all he knew. The amount for his one day servitude was an astronomical, $4,004. Bob was filled with trepidation at what he would be asked to do to justify that amount. Released from the stage, Bob rushed to his dressing room to retrieve his belongings, last year's fiasco still fresh in his memory. Bob struggled with all his belongings as he entered the formal reception; he stashed everything by the exit and went to look for Sue. He hadn't taken ten steps when he was approached by a man who Bob remembered as the strip club manager. "Oh, Shit!" thought Bob. The gentleman extended his hand and said, "Miss Bobby, I'm Dave Wilson, like you I'm the runner up. I lost out on your services. I recognized you immediately. Your solo performance at the club is still spoken of. I just couldn't justify spending that kind of money for one day on the stage. I knew having the winner of this year's contest would have packed the place but it would take a lot of beer sales to make back $4,000. But let me give you my card. I would love to have you work for me." Bob blinked in confusion and said, "Mr. Wilson, you don't understand. This is all a masquerade. After tonight I'm putting Bobby and all her cross-dressing paraphernalia back in the closet. I intend to go back living as a man and doing what I know best, IT services." Wilson looked skeptical but took Bobby at his word, "I could always find a place for you as a performer, but my offer is not for a dancer. I'm here offering you a job as the head of my IT department. My books are a disaster, your old boss Steve Harvey is one of my best customers. In fact he has his own VIP table. He told me what a computer wizard you are." Bob nodded politely and smiled. "I'm flattered, give me your card and I'll get back to you." Bob continued his search for his benefactor. He found Sue at the bar surrounded by Erika, Alex and Jessica, who had flown in from Texas just for the festivities. Bob was given another hearty round of congratulations. Breaking free he asked, "Does anyone know who won me?" In unison, the women said, "We did! As a group, we all chipped in equally. For the next 24 hours you belong to us. I hope you are well rested, you're going to service each of us in turn." The bewildered look on Bob's face prompted another round of raucous laughter. Sue led the gaiety, "Look girls, she blushes so red it shows through her makeup." Erika finally took pity on the poor guy. "Bobby, you're only required to clean each of our homes. The fun part is each lady selects your duty uniform. You won't know what it'll be until you show up. Fran won the draw and gets you first. You have to be at her condo at midnight. The second six hours belongs to Alex, I get you third shift. The last a final stop belongs to your wife. I hope you're up to it." Sue hugged him with all she was worth and made the pronouncement, "Bob now that you've been rehabilitated, I want you to come home, to stay!" The women retired to the bar for celebratory drinks while Bob went to move his stuff to his truck when he was ambushed by Candy. Candy pleaded, "Bob, let Sue go. She deserves someone better than you. Let me quote to you, "If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were." Bob's heart pounded, he reached into his pile of stuff and handed Candy his receipt log book. "What's this?" she inquired her voice dripped with contempt. "That, Ms. Grant, is an accounting of every penny I've spent in preparation for tonight. According to the bet you made with Susan since I obviously finished ahead of Phil, you are to reimburse me. I'll take a money order or cashers check, thank you very much." Candy smugly responded, "This is the point where I start laughing uncontrollably. You dimwit, Phil never agreed to the bet, he left me the day I suggested it to him. Susan and I mutually agreed to drop it. It has been amusing watching you chase some imaginary character, trying to be the first to forfeit his manhood. Congratulations, you won the race. Has Sue set you up with an appointment with her gynecologist yet? She will, trust me. "You'll not get a red cent out of me. Bobby, look at yourself. You're not man enough for a woman like Sue." Bob bit his plump lower lip. His eyes filled with moisture he fought back the tears as a dam burst was emanate; there was no hiding how he felt. "Candy, despite what you say I'm still a man!" Candy poked Bob in his left boob and said, "If that is true it's only a technicality. She smirked and said, "Bobby if there is any vestige of your maleness left I don't see it. If you don't leave Sue, I give you my word I'll destroy you." Bob stood tall and confronted his nemesis, "Candy, I'm a selfish person, I want Sue back. Her happiness is more important than mine. If being with someone else is what it takes to make her happy, I'm accept that. In the meantime, I'm sticking with her until she tells me to go!" Candy was satisfied; the seeds had been planted now she merely had to wait for them to germinate. She was now ready to launch her pogrom and finally destroy Bob; all she needed was her computer and a Wi-Fi access point. Sue had been circulating around the room and happened to be close enough to her Bob's proclamation. Sue pulled him to a quiet corner, "Bobby, you still have an hour before you need to be at Fran's house. I heard what you said to Candy, we need to have a very serious talk." A concerned Bob answered, "Of course, madam. But first I need an answer. Candy told me there was no Phil, and no bet and you knew that all along. Is that the truth?" Sue shuffled her feet and answered, "There's a kernel of truth in every lie. In principle, what she said is true. I found out about Phil; but only a little while ago. I didn't say anything to you because you were doing so well. I was afraid you might back out at the last minute. That would have destroyed me. It baffles me why, but just the thought of you in frocks and frillies gets my juices flowing. We have sacrificed so much I just couldn't let that all go to waste. "Bob, this is hard for me to say, I've come to loathe men! I still love you; but I can never go back to being a wife with a husband." Bob's knees buckled a line of tears ran down his cheeks; Sue grabbed him to help hold him up. "That doesn't mean I don't want you Bobby. I just insist that if you come home it is as my wife, not my husband." The events of date night came rushing back to him, as well as all of the doubts that had gone through his mind afterwards. Before Sue could explain her comments Bob fainted dead away. He was awakened a while later by a paramedic waving smelling salts under his nose. The hall had emptied out by then. Bob looked for Sue but she was nowhere to be found the parking lot was empty except for his truck. He didn't understand how she could profess to love him and then not stay with him to make sure that he was okay. All he could do was thank the paramedic for his help and go. Bob gathered his things and headed for his first appointment. On the drive to Fran's condo Bob felt suffocated, he was drowning in his own thoughts. He had to crank down the window to get some air. He arrived almost on time, but a broken man. He had worked hard over the past year to prove to his wife that he cared about her and what mattered to her, only to be told that she no longer wanted a husband, but another woman. He had allowed himself to be played. Sue had lost no time in eliminating all traces of Bob from her life and she would welcome him back only as a 'her'. Not surprisingly, Fran had him perform his household chores in a fancy square dancing skirt with three solid ruffles trimming the bottom and loads of petticoats and of course a short sleeve peasant blouse with more ruffles around the neckline and sleeves. Fran was disappointed; that the man-maid who presented himself at her door wasn't the jovial pageant contestant she had anticipated. Rather he moped about doing his mundane chores. Bob had fallen into an abyss of despair. He rebuffed Fran's numerous attempts to pry his problem out of him. Still lost in thought Bob arrived at Alex's apartment. She didn't disappoint, she had him working in a cheerleaders outfit complete with pompoms, which he used as feather dusters. At least there were no heels, and Bob was allowed to work in trainers. Bob was therefore prepared when Erika had a stunningly beautiful satin French maid's uniform waiting his arrival. Erika wouldn't allow Bob to brood; she teased and tormented him relentlessly. It was during his lunch break with Erika that Bob finally gave in to her unrelenting probing. They had a serious heart to heart talk. Bob opened up about the cause of his depression, he related Sue's ultimatum, but he was too embarrassed to reveal everything that had taken place the night of the date. So what are you going to do?" Erika asked. Bob soulfully replied, "I'm not sure. What she is asking of me is a lot. I still consider myself to be a man. However I freely admit there are a lot of things about dressing as a woman that are pleasing to the senses. I feel naked leaving the house without makeup and perfume, I wouldn't even consider going without the support of a good bra. I may be predisposed to femininity; but I still consider myself a man, with masculine interests. I have been off the hormones long enough my baby maker is starting to respond, sometimes in the most inopportune moments. I dream of the day I again can again perform my manly duties in the bedroom. "Erika, I can't imagine living without Sue in my life. I've decided to accept her ultimatum. If she wants me to live a celibate life of being her live-in tranny, so be it I'll make the sacrifice she's worth it. That is certainly not my preferred life style; however it is an expectable alternative to being alone in life. If she has visions of me going further than dressing as a woman we have a whole different issue. I can always walk out at that time. I still have free will." Having made a decision, Bob felt reenergized. As he headed to the bathroom to finish scrubbing the toilet, Erika's cell rang. "Hello Candy, why yes he is here. Why do you ask?" Bob breezed through the rest of his domestic chores with a spring in his step. As the antique grandfather clock in the hall chimed six, Bob gathered up his cloths to change. Erika stopped him, "When this was all arranged, Sue requested you arrive in that outfit. Is that alright.?" Bob responded with a gigantic smile on his face and headed for his truck parked in the driveway. Erika rushed to her computer and brought up the website Candy had recommended she watch. Erika was stunned and sickened by what she saw. It was a good twenty minutes later; Erika realized she hadn't heard Bob's truck leave. She opened the door and saw Bob sitting on the ground his head in his hands leaning up against his truck. Rushing out to see what the problem was, she heard his sobbing before she reached him. His tears ran not in droplets but by the buckets. Kneeling on the cold hard ground, she cradled his head and asked, "What's the matter Bob?" In response Bob picked up two crumpled pieces of paper lodged between his nylon clad legs and handed them to Erika. She read the first one; it was a restraining order directing that Robert Turner have no contact with Susan Turner, in person, at home, work or at the club either by phone or other electronic means. The second was a handwritten letter from Sue. It read, 'Robert, you're nothing but a promiscuous gay cocksucking pervert. Your behavior disgusts me. You are no longer a man in my eyes. Certainly not someone I want as a life partner. I could never be seen in public cavorting with a man whore. I hope you and your blowbuddy will be very happy. Don't ever try and contact me again or I'll have you arrested!' Erika took a confused Bob into her home; wrapped him in an old bathrobe. She sat Bob down and said, "I've seen the video; Cathy has circulated it among all the club members, it clearly shows you enthusiastically performing the disgusting act of fellatio on some anonymous stranger." Bob blinked at her in confusion. "What film are you talking about?" She sat him down and played the video. As he watched the film his body caved in on itself as though he'd been punched in the stomach. The one thing that he hoped he could keep secret from everyone was now public knowledge. He felt light-headed as he asked, "Oh my God, how did Candy get a hold of this? It's not what it looks like. How could Sue not let me explain?" Erika sat down across from him. "I suspect that the genesis of Sue's fear is that you are homosexual. Being a trained professional, I imagine those feelings stem from her own gay tendencies." Bob coughed, "Excuse me; are you saying Susan is a lesbian?" Erika uncharacteristically blushed and said, "Well not a fully-fledged one, but over the past year she has experimented with a number of us ladies from the club. I just assumed you knew." Bob shook his head slowly. "No she told me she was looking for my replacement in the bedroom. I took for granted her search involved men. I overheard a conversation between her and Veronica a while back. I guess that I did suspect that she had been sleeping with other women. But her behavior that night made me think that it was men and women." Erika held Bobby tightly in her arms as if it was a preview of things to come and went on, "I've never heard her mention any man, just girls. She can be quite the wildcat in bed." Bob looked at Erika with shock and dismay. "That is what I've heard anyway. I don't have any direct knowledge. Bob, look at it from her stand point. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it's probably a duck. No one wants their significant other playing for the other team and certainly not in a public forum like YouTube." Erika maintained a sympathetic silence as Bob related, without embellishment, the, who, where, when, and why of his encounter with Roberto. He kept any suspicions about Sue orchestrating his tryst with Roberto to himself, he had no proof. Erika pointed out that there was no proof to backup Bob's story. The face of his partner never came into camera view. Bob started to get an ice-cream headache from all this as he spoke, "I must be dumb. In hindsight I realize my trust and faith in Sue was pathetic." "Bobby I hate to be cruel but you aren't so much dumb as unperceptive - verging on self-delusional, you only saw what you wanted to see." Erika watched the poor man cry himself out and commented, "Bob, you're a true anomaly, a man with a woman's spirit. Don't worry about Candy she's a full-blown delusional sociopath. She'll get hers I promise." Erika asked, "Bobby, just for my own curiosity; how do you view your sexuality? Have you started to notice hot guys? Are you gay or perhaps bisexual?" "NO! Not only no, but hell no! I only like girls. My one experience of sex with a man was revolting." Taking a deep breath he went on, "However, I'll admit I don't feel normal without makeup, perfume and a bra. I love wearing pretty clothes. I don't know what that makes me, confused I guess." As Bob tried to digest all this new information, he sat as if frozen. His jaws clenched tight as he stared off into space for the longest time. Erika became concerned. She paced the room unsure of what to do or say. She fixed herself a stiff drink and placed one in front of Bob and said, "I thought you could use a wee drop of the creature." It went untouched for the longest time. Eventually his eyes flared wide, his resolve hardened. He suddenly felt like the Terminator on estrogen- overload and paradoxically told himself to man up. Reflexively, he reached down snatched the whiskey and downed it with one swallow. Calmly, he spoke, no flaming oratory, just a simple declarative statement. "Erika you're a wonderful confidante. I'm sure there is a downside to being a girl, but for the life of me I can't think of any at the moment. But I've no option. I can't remain living this masquerade pretending to be Bobby a woman. Bobby's, reputation is forever besmirched!" "How so? Bobby is a known beauty queen." inquired Erika. "You suck one small dick and you're forever labeled as a cocksucker. "I've come to a decision! I refuse to be a man trapped in this woman's body. Sue doesn't want me, fine I'll survive. From this moment on, I am no longer bound by my vows. I hereby declare myself a free man, I'm not married." He located his handbag and, resisting the urge to touch up his makeup, turned the purse upside down to dump the contents on the table. Three business cards fell out in addition to his cell phone. He briefly considered Roberto's offer then rejected it; he started to rip it up then decided not to burn any bridges, and dropped it and the sanitation engineer one back into his purse. He set up an appointment with Mr. Wilson for the next morning. He looked up at his hostess and meekly asked, "May I spend the night here? I gave up my apartment. I have nowhere to go, I won't be any trouble." Erika smiled warmly. This was the least she could do for someone she had come to like and respect. "Bobby, I would love to have you as my guest. In fact we can make the arrangement permanent if you'd like." "Just tonight will be fine for now. I've decided I need to be on my own for awhile. If I'm going to make it as a man again I need a clean break from all you ladies. I hope you understand." Then she hopefully said, "Of course, just remember there's always a place in my house, and in my bed, if you ever want it." Erika poured Bobby another drink and went to her room. She returned ten minutes later with a small bag and handed it to Bobby. "The timing may not be perfect; although since you don't seem to have any nightclothes, here is a little something for the boudoir." Bob opened the bag and withdrew a lovely purple peignoir bedroom set with matching mules. Bob sat glaring at the lingerie in his hands and there was a long pregnant pause. Eventually he stood and hugged Erika, "I guess Bobby can stick around for one more night. Where's your bedroom? It's late and I need to change. Which side of the bed do you sleep on? There's no cameras are there?" @ @ @ @ Bob finished applying his eyeliner and blinked to focus his eyes again. It had been an interesting month since the beauty pageant and his falling out with Sue. He hadn't seen her since then and had not tried. He spent the weekends with the Erika or Alex. They took turns taking him to the club where he would mingle with the members. He commented to Erika once that he might be outnumbered, but he was never outmanned. Candy and Sue were never in evidence and he found that he was fine with that. Erika and Alex had taken him out the day after the pageant to buy him new man clothes. Erika paid for a new suit of clothes. It looked manly but was made of soft silk material, it felt like a woman's suit, but looked like a man's. At first, Bob hadn't wanted to get the suit, but Erika convinced him that regular fabrics would feel rough on his skin until he got used to them again. He was glad that he had given in, because he loved the feel of the fabric on his skin. It was like cool water that slithered along his arms and legs. He was embarrassed to admit that it was the part of his wardrobe that he loved the most. Dave Wilson had been as good as his word and had put him to work updating the computer system at the strip club and at Wilson's other businesses. It had been interesting work, but Bob had been able to bring things into line rather quickly. He had spent those days fully expecting to hear from Sue's lawyers about a divorce and it had disturbed him at first. Now he eagerly awaited the inevitable, figuring it would finally bring closure to the entire sad episode of his marriage. With time on his hands, he found himself morosely contemplating his mortality and, for the first time in his life, suicide seemed a possibility. It wasn't because Sue had thrown him out or that depression had finally caught up with him from the accident and Sally's death, he just didn't know what he was going to do next. 'When the clock of time has run down and the grim reaper makes his appearance. How do I want for my eulogy to read? A story of the dull, dependable old Bob, or would I rather have it speak of the vivacious and titillating life of Bobby. That was a rhetorical question; from that moment on he was going to live the life he wanted, not the one other people dictated. He remembered something his mother told him on her death bed, 'Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away.' Not only had he not had seen Sue since the pageant, but it was the same amount of time since Bobby had been seen in public. Bob loved his boy time with Erika and Alex. Erika even had an entire male wardrobe made for him, it deemphasized his female figure. They treated him with respect and allowed him to decompress. He found himself missing Bobby more and more, imagining himself wearing the chiffon dress at the pageant in his stiletto heels. An urge or desire that had been building for days suddenly broke through the walls that he had built up. After only a few days of being bored to tears, he had stepped into Dave's office and made a startling proposal. "Boss, business has been slow lately and I think I can fix that. Bob will keep doing his IT gig during the day. However, Bobby wants to start performing a couple of nights a week. If it catches on we can move the days around." Wilson had been visibly enthusiastic, but he still tried to hide it when he said, "Bob, you do know this is a strip joint, right?" "Sure, but none of the girls take off their G-strings. I won't either. I'll work up an act and put together my costume. You won't have to pay me any more than my current salary. I'll keep 100% of my tips, and 5% of any increases in bar proceeds. If you get one complaint, about me not being a 'real' girl, I'll quit, no questions asked." "You got a deal. As soon as you've put together your costume, I'll want some publicity shots. Welcome onboard Bobby. What will your stage name be?" "I think I'll go with Bubbles." @ @ @ @ That had been a week ago and Bubbles was already a hit. It turned out that Bubbles already had a reputation from Bob's single performance and the mere announcement of her return to the stage was enough to draw folks into the club. Bob was happier than a pig in slop these days. Everyone at the club accepted him as he was and it felt like one big family. The girls with bad attitudes had been weeded out long before Bob had come on the scene and Bob suspected that might have been from the influence of the FFL club. He knew, of course, that the strip club was actually owned by Dave and the FFL because he had seen the reports that were created of the boyfriends and husbands who frequented the place. All of the girls knew that he was a guy and they were okay with it. One of them had tried to explain to him that he seemed to put out a vibe that felt like he was so in tune with his female side that the girls would keep catching themselves thinking of him as part of their sorority. The illusion was helped along by Bob's feminine appearance and voice. He actually had to work to get his voice down into the lower registers these days. There had been many times when the girls had invited him to share their bathroom. After his initial embarrassment, he found that it didn't matter to them. Even though they saw him dressed as a man during the day, they welcomed him like a sister into their dressing rooms on performance nights. He was finished blending his makeup when Penelope plopped herself down at the next mirror. She began working quickly to get ready as she was on before Bubbles was due. When it became apparent that Bubbles was a big draw, Bob had worked it out with the other girls to even out their tips. This had gone a long way toward preventing any hard feelings against him when he started dancing. It was also one of the reasons why Penelope was friendly to Bubbles. Until Bubbles had returned, Penelope was the only guy dancing here. "Hi Penelope," Bob greeted her. "Hey Bubbles," Penelope answered, contorting her face to make sure that her foundation was even. "How's it goin'?" "Pretty good. How was the day off?" "It was good, but now I have to work twice as hard to catch up." That was one of the problems with living on tips as a dancer. If you didn't dance, you didn't get paid. Bob nodded in understanding. "Angel was saying that the crowds have been good though. It should be a good night." Penelope smiled and said, "I hope so. Hey, there're a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about." "What's up?" "I know that you've been helping the other girls with their costumes and I know that you've made your own. I was wondering if you would help me too." Bob smiled. "Of course. I'd be glad to. Do you need repairs or are you looking for a change?" "Both, I think." "No problem. We can talk after the last show and get together this weekend. I was thinking of renting one of the storerooms from Dave as a workshop. I'm getting enough requests that I could probably start my own side business to just cater to adult dancers in the city." "You mean that girls from other clubs are coming to you too?" "Yes, that's what it looks like. There must be some kind of network out there that I'm not connected to yet. I've had girls from the other two or three clubs in town come to me for help." Penelope just grinned at Bubbles' good fortune and shook her head. "Oh! The other thing I wanted to talk to you about is kind of hush- hush." She looked around to make sure that there was no one at the door. She took a flat thin case from her purse and held it out to Bob. He took the DVD case from Penelope and looked it over. "What's this?" Penelope paused for a few moments, obviously trying to determine the right way to answer his question. "It's a compilation of some videos from a computer. I think that you would be very interested to see Candy helping the guy who forced you give him oral sex. There are other clips there abusing the house servant who replaced me. Some have sound and some don't." Bob looked at the plain disk in his hand, not sure if the thing was worth its weight in gold or if he was holding a dangerous item of some kind. "Where did you get it?" Penelope looked around again and dropped her voice even lower. "I knew where Candy kept her computer system and what her passwords were. When I heard and saw what had happened to you, I took advantage of my time off to get even with Candy and to help you at the same time. Just don't tell anyone where you got that. Okay?" Penelope was pretty sure that she could trust Bob, but she still looked scared at the thought of being caught with stolen property and she looked hopefully at Bob. Bob met Penelope's eyes and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. No one will ever find out that this came from you. I just have figure out how to use it now." Penelope smiled in relief at Bob. It was obvious that she had been torn as to whether she should have actually given the disk to Bob at all. When the stage manager called out to her, she hurried out of the small dressing room to begin her act on stage. Bob sat still for a few moments, looking at the disk and wondering what to do with it. It wouldn't matter what kind of proof he showed to Sue, she apparently only cared about appearances and she thought that he was a homosexual cocksucker. His face tightened at the very thought of those accusations. Use it to somehow destroy Candy? While the thought of sharing the proof of her viciousness with the world made him smile, he didn't see how he could do that to her, two wrongs don't make a right. There was a knock on the wall beside the curtain into the changing area. There was no door as such; it was a strip club after all. The curtain itself was just a bone thrown to the concept of modesty. Bob looked up to see Erika at the door. She smiled as she saw Bob standing in the middle of the room. His physical changes had finally leveled off and his breasts had even decreased in size somewhat. She didn't mind, she had thought that his bust was a bit too massive anyway. But she also didn't care one way or the other. What mattered to her, and to Alex, was that Bob / Bobbi was a happier person now. The first week had been difficult for him as he came to terms with Sue's decision, but he came to realize that his marriage had died in that first week. They both made an effort to make him feel like the man of the house, a role Bob was good at. "Are you ready for tonight? The house is already full; I guess they want to see if Bubbles has any new gymnastics moves." "I'm sure that I can come up with something. I may need to start taking a martial arts class or join a ballet company to learn something new for next week though." He returned her smile with genuine good humor. Erika and Alex had become good friends over the past months and Alex had even appointed herself his unofficial roadie to keep rowdy guests from rushing the stage. Bob suspected that she enjoyed roughing up the ones who tried to fight back. Anyone who would hit a woman deserved to be laid out cold and she knew how to do it properly. Bob held up the disk that Penelope had given him. "What's that for?" Erika asked. "A friend of mine gave this to me. I understand that it has some incriminating evidence on it about a friend of ours." Bob said friend as if it were in quotes. "I'm not sure what to do with it and I was wondering if you would hold on to it for me?" Erika had a quizzical expression on her face and she nodded as she took the disk from Bob and put it into her purse. She would check it out when she got home tonight. This was an Alex week and Erika had just stopped by to say hello to Bob. Maybe by the time it was her week again, she would be able to suggest a course of action to Bob. @ @ @ @ Bob's turn on stage rolled around soon enough. He strutted to the center of the stage looking like an unobtainable goddess. A tarted up goddess that spun around a stripper pole, but unobtainable nonetheless. With his new-found happiness and confidence, he felt like he owned the universe. Everyone in the audience knew that Bubbles was not a genetic girl, but it didn't matter to them; as long as he did not call attention to the fact. But was he happy? The answer was a resounding Yes! He loved the roar of the audience as he teased them with his striptease and gymnastics act. None of the other girls dared to attempt half of the stunts he pulled on the pole. He'd been lucky though as he had not had a repeat of last year's disaster that had resulted in his cute little nose. He still marveled at how he had ended up here of all places. Only a year ago he had insulted hundreds of women by not taking their beauty pageant more seriously and he had lost his wife and his livelihood. Looking back on it, he wasn't sure if anything he could have done over the year would have resulted in Sue sharing his bed again. He was saddened that his marriage had ended over a combination of his wife's grief over the loss of their daughter and her revulsion at his homosexual actions. What was truly sad was that she had never given him a chance to explain any of his actions; she only saw what she wanted to see. He had lost a lot over the years, but he was making a comeback now. He was happy damnit and no one would take that away from him. No more dull, dependable old Bob he was going to enjoy Bobbi's life this time around. @ @ @ @ A few days later, Sue sat at the pool bar, working on her second martini. Her meals seemed to be accompanied by multiple martinis these days. She knew that she needed to control her drinking, but she didn't really feel like it. It occurred to her that this was the same way she had felt when Sally had died. Maybe she should go back to her therapist for grief counseling again. Maybe she could learn to be nice to people agai