Chapter 2

“Why so long?” I asked.

“Look,” she said. “We can make you fool a guy inside a couple of days, but you will have to be able to fool girls in the club that you are one of them and they can spot a fake a mile away. Before we take you down you will be tested out here to see if you can pass the girl test.”

When I got to my underpants, I hesitated, and Jane laughed.

“Carry on, we’re all guys here at the moment.”

I blinked, and she added. “That’s right, both of us are really guys and you, too, will look as good as we do, by the time we’re finished with you.”

When I was stark naked, they made me stand while they measured me all over. There was a beauticians’ bed in the room, and I was made to lay on it while they proceeded to pull every hair out of my body, one by one. Well, it felt like it, but they used some electric machine that made me smell burnt flesh for an hour or more.

Thankfully they didn’t use it on my pubes but used a pair of electric clippers to give me very short stubble. Jane told me that it didn’t matter there because there would be a covering. The electric machine was back again but on a lower setting as they worked on my face, removing any whiskers I may have had. By lunchtime I had been given a flowery smelling bath and rubbed all over with soothing oils. Only then was I given a bathrobe and allowed to eat some salad.

After lunch Suzi told me that it would be my last chance to pee standing up for a while as I would need to sit after this afternoon. I made the most of it and gave it a little shake, saying, “See you later, old fella.”

That afternoon they put me into a pair of panties that were so tight I had to push my testes into my body to make them fit. My ‘old boy’ was inserted into a sleeve and pushed between my legs as the panties were pulled up. They had padding on the butt as well as a gap where I could go to the toilet and Jane glued the butt seam and top edge to my torso so that I could not easily take them off. Suzi then totally surprised me by putting a couple of fingers into my make-believe vagina and wiggling them. She told me that I could have a man make love to me and that he would never realise that I wasn’t a woman as long as I had made sure there was some lubrication there first.

I asked why I would have a man want to make love to me, and was told that, although the club was LGTBQ, there were men around, and I may be ‘tried out’ by one of the bouncers first. Jane said that the one she had only wanted to give her one in the arse.

I was then given my very first set of breasts which Suzi told me were good for a month or so. After that I was able to put on proper panties and a matching bra and, when I looked into the mirror, I looked like a girl from the neck down. During the afternoon they gave me a manicure, pedicure, false nails, lashes, and a whole new concept of what I was in for.

I had to sit quietly while they gave my already long hair some extensions and then I had a hair wash and shaping. After that it was pierced ears, trimmed eyebrows and make-up, Jane explaining that, because I didn’t know how to do it yet, she would give me stains so that I would not need to touch it up for some weeks. Finally, they used a hypodermic syringe to put stuff in my lips to make them fuller. Before I was allowed to look at myself, they put me in a shift dress.

When I looked in the mirror I asked, “Who’s that girl?” and they both gave me a hug.

“That girl is you, and your name is Elizabeth Scone. We have a complete set of documents for you in that name which just needs the photos added. She took some pictures of me with different looks on my face so that the photo IDs did not look as if they were all done at once. We then had some shoes to try and walk in. By dinner time I was able to walk on the two-inch heels without falling over and the girls were happy with my voice once I stopped trying to talk in a lower register.

The front doorbell rang, and Jane handed me a couple of notes, saying, “You get it, that will be the pizza guy and this is your first test.”

I swallowed hard and went and opened the door. There was a young guy there with three pizza boxes.

“Hi there, you’re a new girl, will you be staying long enough for me to ask you out?”

I told him that I was only here a week but to give me a call. I gave him the money and shut the door, leaning back on it I whispered, “What did I just say?”

Jane smiled and told me that I had passed the first test with flying colours, talking to the lad easily and even flirting a little. Eating the pizza, they constantly reminded me to eat small mouthfuls and to always keep a tissue on hand to wipe my fingers.

That evening they gave me a much nicer dress to wear, and the heels went up another inch. It was a couple of hours of walking, talking sitting and standing before I was allowed to go to bed. I was shown my room and given a nightdress to wear with the earlier bathrobe.

Before I was allowed to get into bed, I was given a short course in removing my clothes and properly hanging them and then the proper way to wash my face before bed. Jane told me that with the stains I didn’t need make-up removal, but I did need to keep my face clean. A short course on looking after my new hair in bed and I was allowed to put the nightie on and try to get some sleep.

I actually slept well and was already awake when Suzi knocked on my door, coming in with a bunch of clothes.

“This is your work-out gear, put it on and we will meet you at the door in twenty minutes.”

A quick pee, sitting down now, and a gargle and I put on the stretch panties, sports bra, and sweats. My hair had been in a ponytail to sleep so I left it alone and went down. Ten minutes later we were pounding along a path in a nearby park and I felt the cool morning air on my face. It was a strange feeling how my breasts and butt moved as we ran but I got used to it. An hour later we stopped at a little café where we went in for breakfast. The chap behind the counter asked what ‘you girls’ wanted, and we ordered a light breakfast. Jane had her purse with her and paid for us all.

All the time we were out we were chatting. It took me a while to catch on as they were talking about dresses, shoes, bands, boys they had known and, as we saw them, rated the boys we passed. By the time we got back to the house I was making up stories of my own and was even looking closely at the boys we passed so I could give an honest rating.

The rest of the day passed with me being the model in a fashion show with everything I wore being explained on how one wears it and why. There was a lot to learn. Of course, every change of outfit must have a different style of shoe and, by dinnertime, I was able to walk short distances in four inch heels, as long as they were a block heel and the ankle was supported.

The following day was a repeat of the run in the morning and then, back at the house, I was told to go and dress for a day at the shops, keeping in mind that I would need to be able to try things on. Jane told me that there was a good budget set aside for this, so I was to ‘have fun’ while we were in the city.

We went and got on a bus, me in a sweater, jeans, and two-inch pumps. At this time, I had nothing else to carry. By the end of the day, I had several bags, as did the others, and was now carrying a handbag with a new purse in it. We had added some cheaper jewellery and a few pairs of new earrings, and I had spent some time, feeling very self-conscious in a perfume department of a large store while we decided which aroma was ‘me’.

Back at the house there was a small parcel on the steps, and I now had my new identity. I was now Elizabeth Scone and even had a hospitality workers union card that listed my name as Betty Buns. With the butt I now had I suppose that it fitted. By the end of the fifth day, I was classed as ready for my first big test and, lo and behold, we had pizza again. The lad asked me out that night, and I told him that he could drop over about eight. The girls got me ready in more ways than one, and I wondered why they went to all the trouble.

I found out why after we had been to see a picture and he had taken me to a pub where we had a drink and danced to the DJ. By now I was feeling that I was a very lucky girl indeed and later, before he took me back to the house, we had a smooching session in his little car. This turned into something else again and I had to tell him I was having my period. He said it didn’t matter and I found myself on his back seat, parked in a dark lane, with my knees up near my ears and his dick plunged deep into my well lubricated arse.

The others were sitting in the lounge watching TV. They sat there in their nighties and dressing gowns and asked me how it went. I said that it was interesting and that, by the end of the evening, all I wanted was his dick in me, and I had never done anything like that before.

“Did you like it?” asked Suzi.

I thought a bit and said that I had rather enjoyed it, and that I had a mini orgasm myself and that I needed to go to the bathroom to wipe myself. They told me to come back after I had changed into my nightie and I returned to the lounge, somewhat tidier than when I last left it. I had cleaned my backside with tissues after he had come but had not bothered with my own emissions. Back in the lounge I was asked to go through the evening as I remembered it.

When I got to the smooching, and then the sex Jane said, “We do have to make a little admission here. The reason you felt horny was due to some powder we sprinkled on your pizza while you were washing your hands.”

“It’s some stuff we confiscated from one of the pimps. He told us that they used it on new girls just off the boat to stop them getting uptight the first time. It does work well, doesn’t it?”

I said that it may even have an after effect as I had made a date with the pizza boy for tomorrow evening, and that I had said that I wanted a repeat performance.

Jane held her finger up. “No, you don’t, my girl. Tomorrow night you tell him that you are still sore from his humungous dick and that all he will get is a blow job. That will be your next test. No drugs, just you and a dick in the back of his car and we want you to try to remember what it tastes like. We will know if you are making it up because we have both tasted him.”

After our run the next morning I was made to practise my technique with a banana, turning it into a bit of a playact. Jane then filled an old sauce squeeze bottle with milk and squeezed it hard past my lips while I still had the banana in my mouth so that I had to swallow with a mouth full. We had beheaded three bananas before I got it right. At least the poor lad would not be going to hospital tonight. I was told to go into town by myself to get used to being a woman alone. It took a while to get used to the looks, but I knew that I could look after myself. I went into a post office and set up a ‘post restante’ in the name of Elizabeth Scone ‘as I will be overseas for a few months’.

That evening, I was told to wear the sexiest underwear I had so that I felt sexy from the inside. Then I had the shortest skirt and a blouse with a very deep cleavage. To say the lad was overcome with joy that evening was an understatement. He took me to a nice bar where we drank and danced until he could stand it no longer. At sex time he took the alternative happily and when I took him into my mouth, he was even happier; twice.

When I kissed him goodnight, I told him that I was going away and was unlikely to be back and I could see that he was sad as he drove away. I had tears in my eyes as well as I was starting to like him, a lot. I was able to describe the taste to the satisfaction of my interrogators and even captured the slight difference the second time around.

“Maybe it was because the first load had aged a little longer,” I surmised.

They both rolled their eyes and Jane asked, “What on earth have we created here?”

The next day it was time for me to meet the girls. Jane and Suzi got themselves dressed in slut gear and I looked very similar. I was told that it was the arrest of predators tonight but that I was not classed as a serving officer so I should keep out of the way. Of course, it didn’t go to plan when a carload of drunken youths tried to molest every girl on the corner, and I had to deck a guy trying to crush me. When the girls called up the van, I was told to stay out of the way so I mingled with the other streetwalkers, most of whom told me I was too pretty to be on the game and to get away as soon as I could.

All in all, it was a good evenings’ work. Jane and Suzi were told to take me somewhere nicer than their street corner and to make sure that I met a good man, rather than a pimp.

The following day I was driven, by Jane, down to Leicester and to her shared accommodation. She showed me the bed-sit that I would be living in and gave me the keys. She said that the weekend we would spend some time in the ‘Queens’ and would see what happens. I thought I was ready for anything, but I certainly was not ready for the inside of ‘The Queens’ when we got there.

Lurid, garish, over the top does not go anywhere close. When the special lighting came on the walls were adorned with highly explicit sexual drawings that could not be see under normal light. They seemed to have a life of their own as the lights played over them.

Jane and I were dancing when a large and well-endowed woman tapped her on the shoulder, and shouted over the music, “Nice to see you Jane, who’s your friend?”

Jane yelled, “Good to see you, too, Boobs. This is Betty and it’s her first time here.”

Boobs, AKA Janice, yelled, “Does she have a union card?” and Jane nodded.

That was really all it took for me to be asked to turn up on Monday morning for a run through of my duties when they opened that night. I was in! Well, it did take a bit more. Janice took us to a sound-proofed office where she asked me questions, and looked at my ID.

A couple of the questions were a bit odd, though. Why would she ask me if I played cards if all I was going to do was be a waitress? Part of that question was answered on the Monday morning. There was a set of cards on the bar and, sometimes, I was told, customers would request that the barmaid play a hand of draw poker with them. If they won, they would get a free drink, but I was not told the consequence of them losing.

I made especial note of the layout of the place while it was in normal lighting. As far as I could see, the layout took up the whole footprint of the building so there was no room for secret rooms. The ground floor was all dance area plus toilets and a cloakroom, bar, and kitchen, with the associated stores and cold areas. Upstairs was, I was told, offices and Janices’ own quarters. My duties would be just to take orders for drinks or eats, and then find the customer carrying a tray with their order. This meant that I would have to be very careful in noting their looks when they ordered. The order slips were kept so that payment was made when they left. I was told that I may have to stand in for the usual barmaid if she needed to go to the toilet. No mention was made of why the turn-over was so high.

On Monday evening I dressed in the uniform I had been given and, with a coat over the top, I went into work. Well, I was not going to parade on the street in a bra and very short skirt over black mesh stockings with the garter straps in full view, would you? There was a name tag waiting for me when I logged on, with the name ‘Betty Buns’, and I clipped it to my bra strap. There were two other girls on waitressing as well as the barmaid so I hoped that I would be given at least a little while to get up to speed.

As soon as the doors opened, we had a crowd surge in, most of them seemed to want food so we were all run off our feet right from the start. I managed to hold my own and found that the hardest thing was finding the customer in a heaving mass of people while balancing a tray.

I had been issued with good earplugs, so the noise wasn’t too bad. Towards midnight the barmaid told me it was my turn to stand in while she took a break, so I was, at last, able to stand still for a while and ease my feet on my heels. I did all right serving the drinks and then a guy came up and asked if I would play a hand of cards with him. I found it a little hard playing while still keeping an eye on the bar but, over the course of five hands, I won three to his two.

His face went ashen when I laid down my aces, and he asked for his two drinks to be double scotches, which he downed like there was no tomorrow. A bouncer came up and stood next to him, and together they went off towards the toilets. The next time I saw him was just before we closed, and he came out of the toilets and walked a little oddly to the cloakroom to get his coat. What was weirder was the fact that Janice gave me a tenner at the end of my shift, telling me I had done very well for my first night, but that I may not have too many wanting to take me on at the poker game for a while.

By the end of the week, I had the system sorted. I had learned to keep tabs on my customers as they moved through the dancing crowd so was able to track them quicker. I had a few more wanting to play a hand but the guys always stopped after I won two. I knew better than to ask why this was, as I was sure that it would all be revealed as time went on.

Saturday night was a watershed evening as I met one of our friendly traffic cops, and also found out where the secret rooms were, the hard way!

Marianne Gregory © 2025