by Maxwell Avoi
They did, and then it got even louder when I lifted the bottom of my shirt to flash the girls. I figured why not? We were in a strip club!
Miss Stacy laughed and patted my head before handing over a check. We all filed offstage after she’d given checks to the second and third place winners, and then she pulled me to the side. She looked straight at me for the first time and I felt so incredibly turned on that I wanted to kiss her and more right there.
“Now you remember what the second part of the prize is?” she said.
I stared at her for a sec, trying to remember anything except how amazing she looked. She grinned and said, “You get to apprentice with me, learn some things about stripping. You don’t have to, but I think that it would be a fun-“
“Yes!” I said. “Absolutely!” For some reason I felt like I should think it over but that was silly. Why wouldn’t I want to learn how to be a better stripper from the hottest woman I’d ever met?
She smiled. “Wonderful. Want to start tomorrow?”
I nodded, my silky white-blonde hair flying around my head. “Yeah! When?”
She gave me a time and then leaned in to whisper, “But for now I think that someone else wants to talk to you.” She smelled like pure, raw sex, and the feeling of her hot breath on my ear just about made me climax right there. It was hard to look around to see who she meant.
TD stood there at the corner of the bar, leaning against it with his legs and arms crossed. He gave me a grin and a two-finger salute, and I melted even more. By that time, thanks to the booze and the raw horniness I felt, I would have fucked anyone, but he was interested in me. I went over to him and said, “Do you think there’s a place where I could dry off?”
TD leaned in and kissed me, the heat and sex of it burning down through my body and right to my pussy. I squealed lightly. He pulled back a little and said, “But it’s so much more fun when you’re wet.”
Five minutes later we were in a little apartment back behind the club that belonged to him. It was easy to find a rhythm thanks to the beats distantly heard through the soundproofing. TD was incredible, fucking just as well and hard as he looked, and it wasn’t long before he had me screaming with one orgasm right after another. I don’t know how many times he filled me, our combined juices pouring out of me even while my pussy muscles milked him for more. Every time I started to feel tired or think that I might fall asleep, he would kiss me and a huge surge of energy would wake me up and turn me right back on again. No matter how many times he came, he stayed hard and ready. He was rough and gentle, fast and slow, and he knew more about different positions than I’d ever thought possible. I don’t know how many times I came before I finally just blacked out from the pleasure. It felt so good that I went from screaming to asleep without anything in between.
I woke up tangled in sheets that weren’t mine, covered with the remains of the previous night’s activities. I groaned, every muscle screaming at me just like I’d screamed the night before; TD had given me a harder workout than I’d ever had before. It was getting easier to think about what I’d done as Lauri; in the last week I’d had sex with four different guys, after all, and disgust would only go so far before turning into weary acceptance. The check in my pocket made it a lot easier to handle.
I got up and put on the t-shirt and shorts, neither of which fit worth a damn anymore. There was no sign of TD anywhere outside of the lingering smells. I staggered out the door and into the main club, which was dark. The only light was around the bar and a table that had been set up next to it. TD stood behind the bar, still at ease. Even in my male form, confirmed to be hetero, he was an impressive figure.
The bouncer and Miss Stacy, still wearing the business ensemble from the night before, sat at the table. If TD was imposing, Miss Stacy’s presence hit like an atomic bomb. I stifled a groan as my cock hardened at the mere sight of her. I turned a little to the side in a futile effort to hide it. She gave my groin a measured stare and a calculated smile that made me even harder. She gestured toward an empty chair and said, “Please sit. Is it Lauri, still?”
I sat. “Owen,” I said. My throat was raw from screaming.
“Mm. Well, Owen, you surprised TD this morning. That’s worth a drink by itself.” She gestured to TD, who brought me something white in a glass. It was smooth and creamy, and it felt amazing on my damaged throat.
“Now I suspect that you’re looking at things a bit differently this morning,” she said when I’d been served. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, putting enough sensuality into the movement to satisfy the needs of a dozen porn flicks. She looked over at TD. “Why don’t you and Bree entertain yourselves elsewhere, hon? I want to talk to Owen alone for a moment.”
I recognized the look of raw desire that flooded the bouncer’s face when TD came over to take her hand. She seemed shy in spite of her heavy muscles, and she followed him like an eager puppy when he led her toward his apartment. Miss Stacy gave them a fond smile and then turned back to me.
“Now are you still interested in your apprenticeship? And before you say yes or no, I’d like to point out that in your female form you’d be able to rake in the cash like there was no tomorrow.”
“Why aren’t you freaking out about me being a guy?” I said, trying to buy some time with another question that bothered me.
She shrugged, mesmerizing me with the jiggle at the tops of her breasts. “Let’s just say that we’re used to strange things here, and that turning from a man into a woman isn’t even that uncommon in these parts.”
I blinked. “What, really?”
She resumed her relaxed posture. “I won’t give away anyone’s past without express permission, including yours. Now, assuming that you can assume that form again, are you interested in making a shitload of cash?”
I looked down at the drink in my hand and then back up to her, rocked again by the impact of her raw sexuality. “I…look, even if I said yes, there’s…when I’m in that form, I’m not quite, you know, in control.”
She nodded, still seeming unconcerned. “Does that bother you?”
“Well yeah.”
“Protection is part of the deal, you know. You won’t have to sleep with anyone you don’t want to. You won’t have to sleep with anyone at all, in fact. Bree can make sure that the guys won’t mess with you, if that’s what you want.”
“In that form, it’s what I want, though.”
“Well, that’s something only you can deal with. But if you want a job, I think you’re going to be perfect for it. Assuming you can take on that form again.”
I thought of the rows of bottles of shampoo and the boxes of soap. “I think I can, yeah.”
She nodded. “Well, then, what do you say?”
I raised an eyebrow. “A lot of money, huh?”
“More than you can make nearly anywhere else. And you’d be much, much safer here than anywhere else.”
What the hell. “Sure, what the hell.”
She smiled. “Lovely. See you later today, then, for your first lesson.” She stood and leaned over to give me a kiss that was like something out of the wrath of the Old Testament. “And any time you want to reaffirm your manhood, Owen, just let me know.”
She gave me a wink and sashayed away. If I hadn’t been so wiped out from TD, I would have gone after her. As it was, I went home. I had to cash my check and get ready for my first lesson. I was a performer, after all.
Tailored Desires
“I never knew that being poor was like this. Why the fuck do people let this happen to themselves?” said Trevor.
I rolled my eyes and kept pretending to study. Trevor was my roommate and while he wasn’t a bad guy he came from a privileged background that hadn’t quite prepared him for the realities of college life. “You’re not poor, Trevor. You have shelter, clean water, food, and spending money. Oh, and higher education.”
“Yeah, but I’m already through my allowance for the month,” he said, collapsing on his bed in a cloud of p
ique.
I rolled my eyes again, not bothering to hide it this time. “You just got it what, a week ago? Where did it all go?”
“Connie. And Dahlia. Oh, and Gwen.”
“Jesus, dude. You know Dahlia was a guy at the start of the semester, right?”
He shrugged. “Who cares? She’s hot now.”
I shook my head. He was right. Dahlia was hot enough to ignite thermite but I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that she had been male at the start of the semester. There had been some kind of magical accident or curse or something that had hit him and a bunch of other freshmen. It was weird what happened at college sometimes. I just knew that if a girl looked like she’d been constructed by the devil specifically to tempt mankind, then she was probably one of the ones under the curse. The administration was supposed to be taking care of the problem; until then it put a little bit of a crimp in my dating plans.
It was just as well. I was at the start of my junior year at Central University for Thaumatology, and I had declared for a major in a degree in Applied Thaumatological Techniques. This basically meant learning and applying magical techniques in various ways to material objects instead of using pure spells. I preferred to use potions, though there were plenty of other options. I left the theorizing and the development to the big brains who understood that shit.
“So what’re you working on?” said Trevor.
“Transformations. It’s a pretty delicate field of-”
“Yeah, great. How’s that help me get some money for my dating life, huh?”
“You could get a job.”
Trevor looked at me as if I’d suggested that he cut his dick off. “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” he said.
“It was a thought. Why don’t you research a spell to make luck or something?”
“I wouldn’t know where to start. You know those are high-level spells.”
I nodded absently. Luck-bending spells were considered to be reality alteration and were therefore restricted to high-level practitioners. University students were right out.
“Then go study something.”
“I already memorized everything for the rest of the semester.”
It was true, and one more thing that made Trevor irritating to have as a roommate. He was smart enough to be one of the theorists, but he didn’t care enough to apply himself to actual work.
“What kind of transformations?” he said.
“Physical ones. The mental ones are a lot more dangerous, so mostly I’d be able to affect things that came from altering hormones and stuff.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, like being able to make a person angry or something. What do you care?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to make money with your potions. So you can’t them to turn wood into gold or something?”
“Sure, if you want highly radioactive gold that lasts for about an hour.”
“That’s sub-optimal.”
“You’re the brain. You go work it out and leave me in peace. Go date someone.”
“I can’t, I don’t have any money!”
I threw up my hands and turned my back on him, pointedly ignoring him until he sulked his way out of the room and left me in peace for a while.
A better roommate would have felt guilty. I did not.
I got about ten minutes of studying done when he charged back in to my room. I entertained a bout of nostalgia for the concept of privacy and then turned to see what he wanted this time.
“Dude,” he said. “I got it.”
“I’m sure they can find a cure for it.”
“I slap my knee. Oh, my sides. Oh God, please, please stop,” he said, deadpan. “I figured out how to make money off of your transformation potions!”
I already had several ideas of my own but this promised entertainment value. I closed the book and said, “All right. Lay it on me.”
He put his hands out in front of him, his fingers and thumbs forming a square. “Porn.”
I blinked and said, “Context?”
“Well, not like…porn , porn, you know. Like softcore stuff. Not even porn, really. Custom picture layouts.”
I stared, my arms crossed.
He waved his hands as if batting away objections or bees. “Hear me out. Say you make a website with an order form. You can have some guy come in and fill it out, and then you make a potion that’ll transform someone into the girl that the guy’s ordered on the form, right. So someone takes the potion, we do a photo shoot, and the guy gets his pictures. We get cash. Ba boom. I’m assuming that the potions are, like, short-term.”
“They are.”
“Then it’s perfect!”
“An order form for girls? That’s…I mean, diabolical might be a good word, but I’m really going to have to have more than one adjective here.”
“Not a real girl. Just a bunch of pictures.”
“And I notice that you’re vague about who we get to take the potions.”
“Us. Duh.”
“Us. You want us to transform into women based off of a guy filling out an anonymous order form.”
“Now you’re getting it!”
“And again the adjectives fail me. How the hell did you come up with this in ten minutes?”
“I get a lot of that. The sheer brilliance of my plans often-”
“Oh, here’s one. Ridiculous. And another! Dangerous.”
“Oh come on! If we take the potions then we won’t have to pay any models!”
“What if I get the mix wrong?”
“You were complaining that you didn’t have any more challenges just yesterday.”
“That was after getting drunk while celebrating an A on a test. A midterm. I’m almost sure that I wasn’t making any sense.”
“What if it worked for extra credit?”
“I think it would be more likely to get us kicked the fuck out of school.”
“Okay, okay. Are you saying that you can’t make it work?”
“I can make it work, but it’s still going to be really-”
“We start by charging two fifty per shoot. That’ll be, I dunno, fifteen pictures of the buyer’s choice.”
“What do you mean ‘start’?”
“Hey, once it takes off we can double the price or more. How long does it take to make a potion like that?”
“I dunno. A couple hours, probably, to fine-tune it?”
“Two hours, another half a day doing a shoot, and then we pay the photographer and split the rest…I bet we can pocket an extra seventy-five a day, or more if we get a photography student and don’t pay him at all.”
“Whoop de shit?”
“Dude! That’s almost four hundred a week. Each.”
“What about materials? They’re not going to be really pricey, but there’s some cost there.”
“So we take care of that too. Look, it’s just the start, man! We can take other pictures at the same time, non, you know, custom ones, and put them on a website! Have subscribers and shit.”
“You’re going a long way to get out of getting a real job.”
He rolled his eyes and said, “At least think about it. This could really be a thing.”
“Fine, I’ll think about it. Now go away.”
He did, and I opened up my book again. The problem was that not only did I stick to my word to think about it, I couldn’t stop thinking about his idea. I loved the thought of it, the more that I turned it over in my head. I was sure that I would be able to pull off the custom potions; I’d been making potions in class for months now, though probably not ones that were so comprehensive.
I found Trevor in the living room. “Okay, fine, I’m in for now,” I said. “But I swear to God, if there’re any problems at all…”
“You are not going to regret this!” he said, jumping off the couch and tossing his controller to the side. “This is going to be amazing!”
I sighed and rubbed my eyes. I already had the feeling that I was goi
ng to regret this. “Fine, but you change first.”
“What?”
“You be the first one to take the potion. You turn into a girl the first time.”
Trevor moved his head back and forth as he tossed the pros and cons around, and then he shrugged. “I trust you, man. I can do that. How long would the changes be?”
“You were talking about a half day for the shoot…say twelve hours? I could fine-tune it down to six or eight later if that would work better.”
“Yeesh. All right, I guess. I’ll find our first client!”
I figured that I would have a day or two to review the formulas involved and work out any kinks. Naturally, Trevor came back with a client and a completed order form within two hours.
I sighed and took the form from him. “He wants…a black cowgirl. Tall, nice boobs, wow, really long legs, and a serious ass. Short hair…I can do that, I guess.”
“Great. How long would it take you to make the potion?”
“I’m gonna need a day or two to go over the recipe and work things out in the lab. Want to try for Saturday?”
“I can do Saturday. Is there any way that you can get, like, exact measurements for the clothing for that body?” Now that he was sure that it was all going to work, he was all business.
“Not a chance. We can guess, but no one’s that good.”
“Shit. I’m gonna need something to strip out of.”
It took me a moment to recover from that comment. “What about smart clothes?”
Smart clothes were a magical innovation. They were mostly for habitual shape-shifters, but there were all kinds of applications. They could take on a wide variety of sizes and forms depending on what was needed and the depth of the owner’s pocket book. More expensive outfits could cover a wider range.
“Can you make those?”
“Hell no. I do potions, man.”
“Shit. Wait, I think Laura makes those. She wanted to be a designer, I think.”
“Was she the one with the blue hair?”
“That was Lacey. I’ll give Laura a call, maybe she’ll help us out.”
“Great.” I could feel more of the paycheck slipping away. I was starting to get nervous about my place in this whole plan.