Today instead of a just a shower she drew a hot bath, adding some rose bubble bath soap and lighting some lavender candles before slipping into the warm silky fragrant waters. Resting her head on a towel pillow on the back of the tub, she lay covered by the soapy bubbles. She closed her eyes and dreamed of all the possibilities that tonight might hold. Seeing herself drinking and laughing at a table with new found girlfriends, who were just like her and would not judge. Maybe meeting that right guy not interested in her past just in love with her as she is now. Oh, the thoughts of being with someone late into the night. The long deep kisses and the tender caress of a caring lover. Margie’s hands slipped up and down her slick wet body as she thought of the man that she could be with later tonight. Tenderly stroking and rubbing herself until gentle moans of pleasure slipped from her lips. As her eyes flickered open she gazed out over the milky water, the bubbles long since gone, and saw the only three things that broke the white surface. The two erect dusty pink nipples of her breast and the dark purple head of her now stiff and tall man flesh.

She closed her eyes and returned to her rendevous with her dream man. She stroked her soapy slick body, pinching and twisting her erect nipples as she imagined him exploring her body and teasing her breast with kisses and loving nips of his teeth. Her legs spread wide in the tub as she had visions of his strong hands gently stroking the insides of her creamy smooth thighs. She gave her hard stiff flesh a long slow stroke as his warm body covered her and he filled her virgin vagina completely. Her hand matched his slow steady pace as her passion mounted. Her legs encircled him as her heels urged him on. Animal sounds escaped her lips and he groaned with pleasure as in sync they climaxed again and again. Pulses of seminal fluid shot in the air and splashed back into the milky water. Margie’s back arched as the long knotted ropes of cum continued to pull through the narrow passage of the bucking penis in her hand. Spent and exhausted she lay back in the tub as her mystery man drifted away.

The heat long gone from the water, little goose bumps rose all over Margie’s body as the air caressed her wet skin as she stepped from the tub. As she dried herself with the warm fluffy white towel she thought of the many preparation she had left to make ready for tonight. Slipping into her satin robe she was ready to begin her transformation from plain to fabulous.

First she rolled her hair with large pink rollers and wrap it with a net. Then she sorted through her press on nails picking the most glamorous lengths for tonight. Next she selected a silver polish as the best color to go with her planned outfit and carefully applied two coats to her nails, hands and toes.

By the time her nails were dry her stomach reminded her it was nearing lunch time. She prepared a salad and some un-sweeten ice tea. While she ate her simple lunch, she debated about dinner. Should I eat before I leave home or get something while I’m out? Preparing another meal on her planned day of fun just seemed wrong, so she decided against it. After finishing her lunch and cleaning up around the kitchen, Margie decided to put off using the breast pump until just before dressing to go out, hoping that would insure no chance of an accident.

She started doing her face for tonight. She put on and took off her makeup twice not happy with the results. She finally decided that she would use a much heavier application, going for a more slutty look, really wanting to be over the top for tonight. She applied the false eye lashes with silver sequins and silver eye shadow to go with the dress she had selected. She ran the eye liner beyond her eyes turning the ends up wanting to capture the Elizabeth Taylor in Cleopatra look for her eyes. The blush she used had sparkles in it. After highlighting her face she applied a few strokes to highlight the cleavage between her breasts. Finally happy with her face she stopped, taking time to do her twenty minutes on the breast pump before starting to dress.

She carefully laid out her selected clothes on the bed before starting to dress. Her silver sequined party dress was so short it forced her to change her normal selection of under garments. Garters on regular hose would have shown below the hem of her dress, so she had selected a sheer to the waist pantyhose with silver highlights in them. To insure things stayed tucked where they belonged, she put on a beige thong back gaff that almost disappeared against her pale flesh. The front closure bra she wore had pads in the sides that pushed her breasts together creating extra cleavage at its plunging front. She loved the added touch of the rhinestone clasp, which was working hard to hold the two straining sides of well stretched silky fabric together in the valley between the mounds of soft pink flesh.

She slipped the silvery party dress over her head and let it fall into place, floating down just enough to cover her, its hem landing at the very top of her thighs. She took the rollers from her hair and carefully brushed and combed the fiery red hair until it framed her face perfectly. Her five inch high heels were just a few rhinestone covered silver straps that wound back and forth across her foot ending in a small buckle at the ankle. She loved the way the spiked heels made her legs look in the bedroom’s full length mirror. The curve at the top of her legs peeked from beneath the hem at the back of her dress hinting at what was hidden beneath the thin silver fabric.

The small silver purse was not big enough for her wallet so she transferred some money, a credit card, her driver’s licence saving room for the essentials: a lipstick and small compact. After several careful inspections using every mirror in her apartment, Margie knew she was ready to go but in her haste to get ready for her adventure she had finished far to early. It wasn’t even five in the afternoon. Regardless of the ridiculous early hour, she decided she was ready and she wasn’t going to stand around waiting at home. Instead she’d use her early arrival at the club to glean information that would be helpful later tonight.

The drive didn’t take long. There were no cars in the mostly empty parking lot, just a few motorcycles and a pickup truck parked in the corner. Margie pulled into a spot close to the entrance which was on the far right side of the single story building. A large black sign with pink letters “2 FACES OF EVE” and a image of two woman’s faces side by side sat on the ground in a vacant parking spot at the end of the row.

Margie got out of the car holding the bottom of her dress which seemed to have a mind of its own, wanting to climb up her body with every move she made. As she passed through the double doors she had to stop and wait for her eyes to adjust to the dimly lite room. A sign pointed to restrooms on the right while a large arched opening to her left beckoned with the sound of music playing. As she entered the large room she scanned the area. There were a number of small round tables and chairs clustered around a hard wood dance floor directly in front of her. To the right a long dark bar stretched out with pink stools scattered in front. In the back on the left she could see a few men playing pool under the only bright lights in the room. There was a heavy damp smell of beer and cigarettes in the air.

Margie moved to the bar, hoping a friendly bar tender would have answers and tips on the best way to enjoy her first night out. She perched on a bar stool, slipping her heels over a chrome rung to secure her position and checking her dress to insure it hung properly, covering the essentials. The bartender washing glasses at a sink filled with cloudy water, stopped his chore, and picked up a towel, drying his hands and forearms as he walked toward Margie.

He was a large heavy set man. His large round arms filled the sleeves of the black knit shirt, showing the signs of what in his younger days were well muscled strong arms of an athlete. His face etched the deep wrinkles and lines told the story of long late hours observing the foolishness, failures and violence all observed from the working side of a saloon’s bar.

His deep low voice asked “What’ll you have?” as his eyes took in this new looker, now sitting in his domain.

“What do you recommend? Does the bar have a speciality?” Margie smiling as she quizzed trying to start a friendly dialog with the old curmudgeon.

“I got beer” was his tired reply”Draft beer or bottled beer.” He continued on “Got most of the popular American beers we don’t have none of the foreign stuff.”

Margie was startle at the gruff answer and the lack of any mixed drinks at what was suppose to be a bar that catered to the gay and transgender. She asked “The two faces of Eve doesn’t serve any mixed drinks?”

“Two faces of Eve?” the grumpy old man laughed. “This place hasn’t been called that for almost a year now. Not since the two fag owners had a lovers quarrel that ended with one of them shooting the other out in the parking lot. You’re in “The Iron Horse” a biker bar for people that own and appreciate American iron, namely Harley Davidson.

Margie answering in her defense “The sign in the parking lot said “Two Faces of Eve” so I assumed that was the name of your establishment.”

“Dam!” the older man grumbled “those ass holes have drug that sign out from the back again. He explains to Margie “Some of the guys drag that sign out from time to in hopes of getting some poor dumb fag son of a bitch to stop, so they can use him for a punching bag.”

A male voice comes from behind Margie “Joe, stop your bitching and give the lady a draft and put it on my tab” The big leather clad man sets on the stool next to Margie and leans on the bar as he continues “They call me sarge” pointing to three gold stripes sewn on the arm of his leather jacket. I use to be in the Marines and I’m sort of in charge of these guys.” Nodding toward three other large rough looking men now surrounding Margie.

The biggest of the group dropped heavily on to the stool next to Margie opposite from Sarge “They call me Tank, mostly because of my size and because I am unstoppable.” Pointing to the two remaining men, “ That’s Wedge and Meat Head”

Joe returned carrying a large class filled with the local amber brew and set it in front of Margie before returning to washing glasses a few feet away.

Margie more than a little afraid tried to be brave as she scanned the group of men. They all wore leather jackets, some in jeans other with leather pants. Their T-shirts had pictures of motorcycles or Harley Davidson logos. Long oily hair slicked back and a two days growth of unshaven beard seemed to be part of their uniform.

“So, what’s your name?” Sarge asked leaning in close to Margie’s face.

“Margie” was all she said hoping that lack of conversation on her part would signal she had no interest.

“Margie, huh” Sarge ignoring the cold shoulder. “Drink up Margie, you’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t.” Leaning in with a menacing voice to make his point “and you don’t want to hurt my feelings.

Margie picked up the large glass and took a long sip of the icy brew as she thought over her situation. “Just drink this as fast as you can and then get out of here” she thought to herself.

“The Iron Horse is kind of our place. Me and the fellows have been coming here just about from the day the place opened.” Sarge droned on with information about himself and his followers as Margie concentrated on draining the glass of beer as fast as would be lady like while feigning interest in his conversation.

With the glass almost empty Margie prepared to finish, make an excuse and leave, but a small nod from Tank to Joe the bar tender brought a fresh full glass before Margie could execute her plan. “That one is on me “ Tank proudly proclaimed.

“Thank you” Margie dutifully acknowledging the unwanted gesture. “Now what do I do”She thought to herself while trying to form a new plan.

“My bike is a Harley Fat Boy” Tank bragged with pride “would you like to go for a ride with me?”

“Maybe some other time when I am better dressed for it” Margie gauging each answer trying not to offend without seeming to encourage any additional attention.

Sarge gives Tank a shove on the shoulder as a reminder of who is the alpha dog in this pack “She’ll give me the first ride, if there’s any riding done tonight” Sarge grinning at the double meaning in his words.

Margie said nothing take a sip from her second beer, sorry now that she had decided to go for the slutty, look her first night out on her own.

“Wedge, why don’t you put some music on the juke box. Somethin’ Margie and I could dance to” Sarge ordered his minion. “Let’s dance” Sarge commanded as he gripped Margie’s hand.

“Woh”Margie protests “Before I do any dancing, I’ll need to go to the Lady’s room first.” Margie hoping this excuse would get her free and headed toward the way out.

“Sure Honey” Sarge grinned.

The leather clad group parted creating a path for her. Each man stared as there eyes undressed her, as they followed her every move as she disappeared from the room.

Margie’s first impulse was to dash for the nearby exit door, but she did really need to pee and she knew they were watching her. She turned to her left and went up the hall to the large pink door marked Ladies Only. She was surprised to find a large well appointed bathroom done in pink and black marble. There was a large mirror across the wall over the black counter with several pink sinks, three black marble stalls lined the opposite wall and three floor length pink urinals were across the back wall, after all it was a transgender restroom.

Margie pushed back one of the stall doors and gave the facility a visual inspection. The pink toilet appeared clean and ample pink toilet paper hung on the wall. She closed and latched the door before tending to her personal relief. After she had finished she carefully adjusted her clothes insuring everything was tucked away as it should be.

As she reached to unlatch the door, BOOM was the sound, as the door slammed open against the stall walls as numerous leather clad arm filled the opening grabbing Margie and dragging her out into the center of the room. Her male admirers had followed her to the restroom and now had her in their clutches. Wedge and Meat Head held and twisted her arms forcing her to bend over toward the floor. Sarge gripped her neck from behind as Tank delivered a punch to her solar plexus knocking the wind from her lungs and leaving her helpless gasping for air.

“Try to scream or call out and you’ll get another one of those, Bitch!” Sarge warned as he squeezed Margie’s neck. Tank, what you say, we see if we can make this bitch air tight.”

Grinning like a school boy as he unzipped his pants Tank called back “I got the front.”

Sarge flipped the little sliver dress up out of his way as he forced his fingers beneath the waist bands of Margie’s panties and panty hose. “I’ve got the back.” He called back to his partner as they all laughed.

As Sarge began to pull the last barrier between him and the tender flesh he wished to punish to prove his manhood, a shrill voice called loud above the commotion from the bathroom door “WHAT ARE YOU IDIOTS, TRYING TO DO NOW!!?”

All eyes turned to the door and the large black woman dressed in red standing there, holding a chrome plated revolver pointed menacingly at the them. The barrel was short but the hole in the end looked like a cannon to quaking men looking down it.

“We didn’t mean any harm Sylvia, we were just kidding around” Sarge talking like a school boy caught in the middle of a prank.

“You boys, let her go, she ain’t interested in you or what you’ve got in mind”Sylvia order the men. “Now I’ve told you before, you stay out of the Ladies’ room and the Dancer’s dressing room. And you know what I’ll do, don’t you Tank?”

“Yes ma’am” the big man answered meekly.

“Now get!” Sylvia ordered, standing clear of the door and waving her pistol toward the exit. The four men quickly complied. Sylvia turned her attention to the poor girl struggling to remain standing in the center of the floor. “Are you all right honey?” Sylvia asked as her arm encircled Margie’s waist offering comfort and support.

Margie still gasping for air “I’ll be OK, now that you are here. Shouldn’t we call the police or something?”

“You sure you want to do that dear? I mean considering your situation. The local cops are not our friends, they tend to believe us transgender girls get just what we are asking for in cases like this.” Sylvia warned based on her own experiences.

“Am I that obvious?” asked Margie disappointed in her failure to pass.

“No, no Honey, its not like that.” Sylvia explained “We girls just know how to recognize one another whether pre-op like you are post op like me. Now come with me to my dressing room. You’ll be safe there and you can catch your breath before you decide what you want to do next.”

Sylvia helped Margie out of the restroom and down the hall through a door marked “DANCERS ONLY”. Once inside the dressing room Sylvia showed Margie to a chair and then pull open the top drawer of her dress table and dropped in her gun.

“Why did those men do exactly what you told them without any argument or resistance?” Margie asked wanting to learn.

“That’s simple, they knew I meant business because I had already shot one of them before.” Sylvia answer matter of fact-ly.

“Really?” Margie gushed.

“Sure, it was sometime back when those boys first started hanging out here. The big one they call Tank tried just about the same thing with me. Right here in this dressing room. He just didn’t count on West and Weston coming to my aid. One shot in the leg and he forgot all about why he had come back here.”

“What did the police do?” Margie wondered aloud.

“The Police were never involved. Sarge and his other pals took Tank to the hospital, made up a story about a shooting accident and got him patched up. In fact, Tank was back here the same night, bandage around his leg, stuffing dollar bills in my g-string while I danced out front.” Sylvia said smiling as she remembered that night.

“Really?”was all Margie could say.

“Here’s the way I see it” Sylvia sharing her philosophy “Most of those guys out front are just cross-dresser, kind of like you and me. They’ve got wives and family, along with straight jobs Monday through Friday, just trying to earn a living. Most, work jobs they don’t really like. Comes the weekend, they get to put on their costumes, dress up and play at being the great American modern cowboy on motorcycles. They’re just trying to find a little freedom, an escape before returning to the grind on Monday morning. For a short time I’m part of their fantasy. As long as no one get hurts, except those that deserve it, live and let live.”

After a pause Sylvia changes the subject “By the way my name is Sylvia Washington. It use to be Denzel, no relation, my Mother was just a big fan.” Half speaking to herself “ She’s more than a little disappointed in me to say the least. Any way what’s your name honey?”

“Margie Williams, it was Mike not to long ago. Glad to meet you Sylvia.” Margie feeling as if she had made a real friend at last.

“Well Margie, we can chat but I’ve got a set coming up I need to get ready for” Sylvia said as she unzipped her bright red dress and pulled it off over her head.

Under the red dress was all the costume Sylvia would need for tonight. Her ample brown breast filled the small red bra to over flowing. The dark brown semi circles of her areola peaked above the clinging fabric as the erect nipples pushed for their freedom. The tiny g-string just covered the man-made slit between her legs. Thin red strips of satin stretched down to grip and hold the tops of her matching lace top red stockings. Her shiny red shoes had four inch heels with an ankle strap to help keep them on during her dancing routine.

After hanging her dress, Sylvia sat down at the makeup table, so she could adjust her makeup and keep eye contact with Margie’s reflection at the same time. “What brings you to a place like this honey?” Sylvia asks?

“A friend mistakenly recommended the Two Faces of Eve as a good place for me to meet understanding people and girls like me for my first real night out. I guess she didn’t know about the changes that happened.” Margie confided.

“You just missed it honey.” Sylvia related “it was that way when I first started dancing here. Lots of T G girls and men who appreciated them, having a good time. It’s a shame it all came to an end” Sylvia lamented.

“Why did you stay on after, if that’s not to personal a question?” Margie asked.

“I was to old to go somewhere else and try to start over. I needed the money to finish my SRS and the new owner and I have an understanding. Sylvia lowers her voice as she shares her secret. “Bob took a shine to me when we first met and we got a little drunk together. Nature took its course and we were intimate before he ever realized, realized, my past gender that is. He freaked. The owner of a Harley motorcycle shop and a biker bar isn’t suppose to be making love with another man, even one as pretty as me.” Sylvia making fun of her situation. So as long as I keep his secret I’ll have a job here.

“You look lovely and all woman to me. What surgery could you still need?” Margie inquired.

“Oh, I do OK when I have all my makeup on, but in the mornings when I look into the bathroom mirror first thing, I still see Denzel looking back at me. So, I found a good plastic surgeon who has a plan to change all that as soon as I can save enough money.” Sylvia pauses and adds “ I would have been all done by now if my first doctor hadn’t been such an asshole.”

“What happened?” Margie asked truly interested in more details.

“It’s kind of a long story.” Sylvia begins “Some of it is my fault for wanting an easy short cut to being a real woman. He did my castration and started my HRT and got the insurance company to pay for the whole thing. I thought the Doc. was the greatest thing since sliced bread, but after that things changed.” Sylvia paused and got very serious “He didn’t do any more surgery for me. All’s he wanted to do was run kinky sex experiments on me and have me perform favors special favors for his friends who were suppose to be helping me.”

Margie leans closer as she hear more and more from Sylvia and it sounds to familar.

Sylvia continues her story “ I finally began to question why, after castration and months of estrogen, why was I still getting hard-ons and shooting cum like a teenage boy. That’s when I tricked his creepy little male nurse assistant into coming to my apartment. I seduced the little brown rag head and got him drunk and finally found out the truth about what was going on.”

“Really?” was all Margie could say in awe by Sylvia story.

“Yea, it turns out Doc. was video taping all those experiments and selling them to a some rich clients and friend. He was also getting paid for all those special favors I was performing for those people that were going to help me.”

Sylvia continued as anger crept into her voice remembering how she had been used. “The special HRT capsules Doc. gave me had estrogen in them, alright, but they also contained testosterone and enough Viagra to make me get an erection if the wind blew and a herb from India that Benny supplied that would make me cum like a breed bull.”

“Benny?” gasped Margie stunned knowing Sylvia was describing her very situation.

Sylvia really wound up now, continued her story not recognizing Margie’s shock. “Yea, Benny was his name. The little brown bastard was Doc’s male nurse and coconspirator in fucking me. Once I got him drunk he told me the whole story, along with what would come next.

“There was more?” Margie gasped in horror.

Sylvia lowered her voice as she related the next part of the plan “Once Doc. had done all the kinky experiments and sold all the videos he could, he was going to sell me to one of his rich clients as a sex slave. Benny said they had sent girls all over the world, to Sheiks in the Middle East as part of their harem, Royal families in Europe to live in dungeons of castles and the Triad gangsters of Japan to use to pay off crocked politicians. He’d just say he found a sponsor that wanted to pay for all the rest of my SRS but wanted to meet me first and I’d have gone, too. Not knowing what was really going to happen. Me a slave, what a bunch of bastards!” Sylvia hissed.

Margie broke down in tears swobbing “Now they’ve got me, too! What can I do?”

Margie stood crying uncontrollably, aware now of how she had been betrayed by Doc. and Benny. Sylvia took Margie into her arms and tried to comfort her. “The only thing you can do, is the same as I did, run for your life and start over again.”

Margie slowly regained control and drew several deep breaths before saying “Run, run and let them get away with what they’ve done. Filled with anger “Run and let them get away with this. RUN! and let Doc. do this again to some poor unsuspecting girl. With firm determination in her voice “No, he has to pay for what he’s done. I don’t know how yet, but I am going to make him pay.