This story is for persons of eighteen years or over. All comments, good or bad are welcome and all will be answered.
Chapter One
Not many people can name a date and time on when something happens that changes their lives. They can remember where they were when President Kennedy was assassinated, but it was his life that was affected, not theirs. For most people, things change gradually and spaced out in their life span. They might have had to make a decision at one point, but if asked many years later, they cannot put a date and time to that particular episode. I can't say where I was when Kennedy was shot in Dallas, but I do know the year, the day and the time that my life changed.
I am not naming the year, but it was on the 25th August at eight thirty five in the evening. The place was a holiday camp where I was having my annual holiday with my wife Victoria, though I'd always call her Vicky, and our two children, Françoise and Helene. My name is Rene Artois, French by birth and I constantly have to put up with the greeting of `Allo Allo' when I am first introduced.
I am not going into the details of my parents, just to say that they came to England at the outbreak of the Second World War and stayed there. I grew up and was educated in London, met Victoria, fell in love and got married. The two children were born a year apart and we live in South London in a pleasant semi detached house in Kingston.
I am the manager of an estate agents and like the job. The pay is good and of course, the more houses we sell or rent out, the bigger my bonus, but with the present cost of living, it soon disappears.
That's why we could only afford a holiday in one of the holiday camps that are dotted around the country. Our next door neighbours were more than that dubious appellation, but were our very best friends, and would come on holiday with us. Phillip and Joan Morris, him having to suffer the same as me by people asking him if he had any cigarettes going free. They too had two children, Leslie and Tracy. If either of us two families would have had another child, then we would have qualified for the Government statistics by having two point five children.
Phillip was the manager of a local bookmakers office, and he too worked on a bonus system, but suffered the same as me by losing it with the cost of living.
We almost lived in each other's half of our adjoining semi, and it was only natural that we went on holidays together. We got on well and so did the children. This was our fourth holiday together on this particular year when we were at this seaside camp.
It was on our first week when we were watching the stage show that they put on for the campers, and it was announced that in two days time would be the talent contest. Now I have said that I can name the day and time that this was announced, but I cannot for the life of me remember what the prize for the winner was.
Now Vicky, Phillip and Joan knew that I had a good singing voice and urged me to put my name down to enter. I didn't want to do it as I would be competing up against teenagers who would probably do better than me, and look better too. Now I'm not blowing my own trumpet, but I was at that time quite good looking. Twenty four years of age, slim of build and perfectly fit. We were sitting round a table drinking beers when this announcement was made, and that was when they ganged up on me.
Come on Rene,' said Phillip, I've heard you singing and it's good.' This approbation was echoed by the others. `You could knock spots off those that we've heard on that stage so far.' Which was true, I had to admit.
`But this is really for the youngsters,' I protested.
`Not if you had a gimmick,' Joan said, putting her oar in.
Dress up as a woman,' suggested Vicky, and when you finish your song, take off your wig. It'll be sensational!'
Don't be silly,' I replied, besides, we haven't got a wig.'
`I've got one,' Joan said, crushing that argument.
That would be one for the book,' laughed Phillip. I bet you the drinks for the rest of the holiday if you do that and dress as a woman and sing a song on the stage,' and that was a strong temptation as we did drink quite a bit and that meant a saving of quite a few pounds.
`No. You'll only laugh at me if I was to do that, and then take the piss afterwards as well,' I said.
He's the same size as me,' said Vicky, so I can fit him out in clothes.'
`I've got a gorgeous wig that he can wear. Boy, I can just see him in it! He'll look great. Especially if you let him wear that slinky dress you've got Vicky.'
`Yes, you're right. I can do his make-up too,' enthused Vicky. I looked helplessly at Phillip, but he was no help and only grinned and agreed with what our wives were saying. I suppose it was, well that's what I'm blaming it on, that the amount of drink I'd taken in that night that I finally agreed. So my name was put down for this so called talent contest.
The two women had fun getting me dressed up for this show. The only problem was shoes, but they found a pair of low heeled shoes that fitted. I wouldn't have Joan in the caravan as Vicky helped me get dressed in her underwear. I don't know why, but it was the first time I felt embarrassed to stand naked before my own wife as she laid out the clothes that I would be wearing. The dress was hanging up from a knob of an overhead cupboard, and on the bed were a pair of stockings, a suspender belt, bra and panties.
I'd been to the communal showers and was nice and clean as I sat down on the bed as she helped roll the stockings up my legs, which I must say, didn't have a lot of hairs, so they didn't look too bad. It's when she put the suspender belt round my waist and started to fix the stocking tops to the clips that I got a hard on. Now Vicky wasn't one that really went for oral sex, but she actually gave me a quick suck as she did up the studs.
`That's for luck,' she said with a smile.
Then came the panties and bra, which she filled with tissues to pad them out. It was at this point that Joan came in with the wig and stifled her laughter as she saw me dressed in this female garb.
Not bad,' she said when she could control herself. With this,' the wig she waggled, `the dress and make-up, he'll look gorgeous.'
`Shut up,' I growled, but had a kind of glow inside of me. Vicky then sat before me and put some base cream on my face, I had shaved a little while before, and then slightly rouged my face. The eyeliner and mascara was next leaving the lipstick till last. She wouldn't let me see the finished product until I had put on the dress and they both saw that the wig was settled properly on my head. Then they finally let me look in the mirror at myself.
I was amazed at how I looked. If I didn't know it was myself, I would have said that it was a really lovely looking woman staring back at me. It was the wig that was the crowning touch that actually made me look like a woman. I nearly thumped Phillip, as did Joan, when he was allowed to see me.
Well if I didn't know better I'd probably start to chat you up tonight. You look stunning.' That was when I threatened him as well as Joan. He laughed, holding his hands up. No honestly. He looks just great.'
`Since when has a bookmaker spoken honestly?' Joan asked.
I'm only the manager. I can speak the truth.' He then put on a falsetto voice. Oh darling. If it wasn't for my wife here, I could kiss you myself.'
In your dreams,' Vicky interposed. But joking aside, what do you think? With his singing and then at the end, whips off the wig...'
`It'll bring the house down,' said Joan
`He'll win it and I will lose on the bar bill,' said Phillip.
So with a coat round my shoulders and after two swift gin and tonics, I was hustled from the caravan to the centre where the main hall was. I was bustled into the back to find myself in with about twelve other would be winners of the contest. I seemed to be the oldest and much to my surprise, I was offered a chair by one of the organisers and addressed as Miss.
God was I nervous sitting there dressed as a woman. Fretting until I saw someone light up a cigarette and I was quickly over to the man and begged him for one.
`Certainly Miss,' he said as he offered me one from his packet and lit it for me.
Bloody hell, I thought, even he took me for a woman as I puffed on the cigarette as the first one went out to perform. I didn't know it at the time, but Phillip had put in a word that I was nervous and it would be best if I was left till the last. I was that nervous that I smoked at least four of that poor man's cigarettes while I waited for my turn, watching them all go out one by one. I promised the man that I'd buy him a carton if I won. I got a nice pat on the bum from him when, after all the others had gone out and it was my turn.
Now for our last contestant,' I heard the camp entertainer announce as I was ushered up into the wings. Let's hear a good applause for Miss Stella Artois.'
What a piss take, I thought as I was pushed out onto the stage to face the crowd of holiday makers. I managed to make the walk in that tight dress to the front of the stage, not being able to see much beyond the front rows because of the lights. I suppose this helped that I couldn't see my wife Vicky and Phillip and Joan. I heard my music begin and I took the microphone and started to sing. About halfway through, I really got into the mood of being a woman up there on the stage and sang and acted as I thought a woman should. I was astounded at the applause when I finished, and the decibels went through the roof when I took my wig off and bowed to them.
To say I won the contest doesn't seem enough. I felt fired up by the adrenalin that flowed through my body at the applause. Even more so, when all the contestants were paraded to be judged by the applause, and when I went back to the front of the stage, there was no doubt who was the winner. I was asked to do a reprise, and so with the wig back on, I sang the song again, and I got a massive erection that was only constrained by the panties as they cheered and clapped me when I finished.
`Well done, well done,' said Phillip, clapping me on the back when I finally got to the table where they were sitting.
`Lovely darling, absolutely lovely,' said Vicky, giving me a kiss. Joan also kissed me, saying much the same thing. I sat down and accepted gratefully, the pint of beer that Phillip had waiting for me. I was still in the dress with the wig on and felt like a million dollars sitting there, getting these admiring looks from everybody. It was quite heady, especially as they knew that I was a man only dressed up as a woman. What, I wondered, would be the response if they didn't know that fact. It was this thought that set me on the path to what I do now.
`If I didn't know better, I would try to chat you up myself,' said Phillip, finishing off a pint of beer and not knowing that he'd already said that once before. He got another thump from Joan for this, but laughed and went and got another round of drinks for us all. I even found it sexy having my leg stroked under the dress by my own wife Vicky as she smiled at me. complimenting me on a magnificent performance. Her words.
I felt quite light headed when we went back to our caravans, and after kissing Joan goodnight, I even got a kiss from a drunken Phillip who got a slap from Joan.
`Well she looked so gorgeous,' he hiccupped.
I was surprised for the second time by Vicky, for when she'd helped me off with the dress, she pulled my still half erect penis out of the panties and gave me several minutes of sucking and then insisted that I kept the underwear on as I made love to her.
Now I've remembered what the prize was for winning the contest. Well I didn't actually remember. It was as we were checking out, we found that we had a free weeks holiday for next year at the camp. But it wasn't that what was surprising to me, it was being approached by a man as I let Vicky settle the bill.
`Mr Artois. My name is Jerome Kershaw. I control several clubs in London and was pleasantly surprised to see someone who had talent in this backwater. If you would like to take this up full time, I can guarantee you almost permanent work as a female impersonator in my clubs. Here's my card, and if you ever think of taking it up professionally, give me a call.' I thanked him and put his card away in my pocket.
I can't deny it, but that card burnt a hole in my pocket for a whole two weeks before I rang the number. I had never felt so high as I had stood on that stage to the applause and the fact that I was dressed as a woman. I began having fantasies while in bed at night and they went way out in their extremes. Some of these I later played out and found others that I hadn't dreamt of.
One of the latter involved Phillip and that happened not long after our holiday. Vicky and Joan had gone off with the children for a party and reckoned that they wouldn't be home till at least seven. Phillip and I were having a lunchtime beer in our kitchen when they left. We chatted for a while before the holiday cropped up.
I'd like to see you dressed again as you were that night,' he'd said. You looked absolutely fantastic.' I demurred, but when he bet me dinner for four, I couldn't resist the offer. Also, I must confess, that I had wanted an excuse to dress up that way once again. So we went upstairs and he sat on the bed as I stripped off my man's clothes and re-dressed again as a woman. I didn't bother with the make-up, but even without it, the wig more than compensated for the fact that I still looked like a woman.
So much so, that when I sat down on the bed, Phillip put his arm around my shoulders and kissed me. I can't say I was surprised, dressed as I was, but the thing was that I actually wanted him to do it. Our kiss was deep and his hand was constantly running up and down my thigh. He rolled over on top of me and I could feel he had an erection as I had. He was actually believing in the fact that he was kissing a woman, especially when his hand kept running over the suspenders that were attached to the stocking tops.
Before we knew it, his erection was out of his trousers and he placed my hand on it, and I did, rubbing it and getting a thrill at rubbing another man's cock.
Oh Rene,' he breathed into my ear as my hand moved on him. Don't stop.' I felt his hand start to push my head away from our kissing, and, offering no excuses, went down and took his erection in my mouth. This was my first time in a homosexual act of oral sex. His cock was hard, hot and solid as I took the head of it in my mouth. Feeling the heat and throbbing pulse as I closed my lips round it and sucked upon him. He gave out a groan and moved to give me more space to move. I moved my head up and down on his shaft, my hand taking hold of the soft skin that covered the iron bar beneath it.
I felt the slight swelling of his member and was surprised at the coming of him into my mouth. His hips had started to buck, but I held onto his cock as he came, taking it all and then swallowing it and licking him as he began to subside.
So Phillip and I became secret lovers and I found out that I was bi-sexual. I liked fucking my wife, or any other woman if they had been available, but I also found that I liked the feel, touch and taste of another man's organ.
It was a week later that we were alone together and he asked if he could fuck me while I was wearing the underwear. Just getting into the swing of realising my true nature, agreed to this, providing he would suck on me in exchange for my favour in this. He agreed, so I had him, for the first time, suck on my erection, working me as I had him till I came, though if he swallowed it, I don't know. But it was nice to be relieved in the way that Vicky wouldn't do. Then it was time for me to turn round and accept the final initiation into homosexuality by having another man take me from the rear. Not only had I turned him on by being dressed in female underwear, I'd turned myself on to believing that I was a woman, and was about to be fucked as one.
With my stockings and suspender belt on, no panties, I knelt on the bed while he put on a condom and got some cream. Then I felt the cold cream touch my rear as he nestled his cock at my entrance. Taking a deep breath, I waited, and then felt him push himself into me. My body reacted and tried to stop him, but he pushed and entered me. I felt him expand my backside more than it had ever been done before. There wasn't as much pain as I thought there would be as he came into me, pushing further in till I felt his thighs touch mine. This was as far as he was going to go, but it was great having, and feeling that throbbing flesh inside, the heat melting the cream as he started to shaft me.
His hands were firm as he held my hips, moving in and out as he fucked me, and I drooled as I revelled in this new experience. He didn't last long, this being our first time in this position, bucking and ramming into me hard as he came into me and the condom. I felt the throb and pulsation as he came, giving me short sharp jabs, slapping his thighs up tight against mine, before he groaned and slowly folded himself over my back, bearing me down onto the bed.
We lay like this for several minutes before he pulled out, making me whimper at the withdrawal, but we were soon back together, kissing each other. We were somewhat abashed as we both got dressed later, appearing self conscious as we did so. But I took him into my arms when fully dressed and kissed him and said that we had nothing to be ashamed of as it was something that we had both wanted.
From then on, it was much easier and more comfortable to be able to strip off our clothes and have sex together, though I didn't get to fuck him then. The odd suck or two, but it was me that came to crave his cock, either in my mouth or up in my rear.
I was at work in my office when I remembered the card that had been given me by the man as we had left the holiday camp. I had found that I liked dressing up as a woman, and if I could sing as well. Well! What had I to lose by giving him a ring?
He was most affable over the phone and would most certainly be pleased to give me an audition at one of his clubs. The date was set and now I had a week to practice the art of making myself up as a woman. This was more difficult than I had thought, buying cosmetics and clothing and keeping it all a secret from Vicky as I sneaked off to practice this art.
But it sufficed and I attended this audition in his club, being watched by the club's manager and others, and at the finish, was applauded and accepted on the spot. He'd introduced me as Stella Artois and that was the name that I used from there on in. I didn't tell him that Artois was my real name and he did ask. I explained that I was moonlighting as it were, and could only perform during the week and not at weekends, or not for the moment anyway.
I had to tell Vicky that I had got an extra job, singing in the evening. She objected to this, but with the knowledge that it would give us some more money, finally accepted that the extra money would come in handy in the way of clothes for the children and other small luxuries it would bring. The downside being that I wouldn't be at home in the evenings during the week.
What I didn't make quite clear was that I would be singing as a transvestite in a sleazy night club, also that I became a male whore, being picked up on my first night at the club.