Girls, Girls, Girls

     Josh started the night with four of his friends, but had since removed himself from their company.  They wanted to go to a dance club, while he wanted to see some strippers.  The alcohol in all their systems heightened the tension between them, and Josh now found himself walking the dark streets alone.
     The streets were empty for a Sunday night.  Most likely people were home recuperating from the Super Bowl parties that had started the day.  Josh had started at one such party, but departed with his cohorts when minute the horn sounded their team's loss.
     So far he had failed to find any clubs of the persuasion he desired.  He was starting to thirst for another beer as well, and was near giving up his search in lieu of the nearest bar.  Spying a lone prostitute on the corner, he was considering asking for directions when he noticed a sign.
     The cursive letters were drawn across the dark in pink neon.  They flashed in vertical sequence, mesmerizing every passer-by with their glow.  'Girls, Girls, Girls' it proclaimed, leaving little doubt to what was within.
     The entrance was rather plain, with not even a doorman to greet him as he entered.  Down a short, red-lit passageway, he pushed through a beaded curtain into a dark smoky room.  The bar stretched away to his right, and ahead sat a pit with chairs and tables surrounding a mediocre runway.  Low, jazzy music played from old speakers as a Nubian dancer swayed and gyrated around a single pole on the stage.
     Josh smirked at the mild crowd and stepped to the unattended bar.  As he sat on a barstool, the music changed and he heard mild applause.  He turned back to the stage and leaned back on the bar to watch the next dancer made her way onto the runway.
     "What's your pleasure?" said a voice behind him.  Josh turned and looked upon a crew-cut bartender in a red vest.  Glancing around to determine where the man came from, Josh quickly dismissed the notion when he realized this man could give him alcohol.
     "Bud, in a glass," he said, and the bartender set straight to pouring.  Josh dug in his pocket for some cash, and by the time he had the bills straightened, his beer was ready.  The exchange made, Josh sipped his beer and turned back to watch the stage.  A fiery redhead was spinning and twirling about the stage, with several older men straining to place money in her g-string.
     "Hell of a game, eh?" said the voice once more.  Josh didn't even turn.
     "Yeah.  Hell of a 'fixed' game.  My boys were robbed," Josh said with no emotion.
     "Well, well … For every game there must be a winner and a loser.  And it's not if you win, but how you play the game, right?" the bartender tried.
     Josh turned back to face him.  "Unless how you play the game sucks," he smiled.  The bartender mocked laughter and nodded.
     "So what brings you out on this night then?  Shouldn't you be home mourning or something?"
     "Naw," Josh said, rolling his eyes, "Me and the guys wanted to get out for some female companionship."  The bartender's brow lowered as he glanced up and down the bar.
     "The guys?" he queried.  Josh smirked.
     "Ditched 'em," he said before a gulp of beer.  "They wanted to dance."  Josh turned back to the stage and admired the dancer once more.
     "And you wanted something other than dancing," the bartender implied.  Josh just lightly nodded his head without looking away from the stage.
     "I noticed your sign," Josh murmured.
     "Ah!  Then you are interested in dancing after all," resounded the voice with strange enthusiasm.  Josh turned back to the bartender, who now looked upon him with a wide grin.
     "You could say that," he said, quickly finishing his beer.  "Do you have 'private' performances?"
     The bartender mechanically cleaned the glass and returned it to its empty brethren, the whole time smiling like he was up to no good.  
     "As a matter of fact we do, and you've come to the right person."  He pulled out a small notepad and pulled the pencil from his ear.  "What do you like?"
     Josh was a bit taken by this approach.  Were they to build his dream girl out of spare parts or something?  Most likely the bartender would give him a girl that was closest to his order.  He hoped they had a wide selection.
     "Well … What are my options?" Josh started.
     "Anything you like.  We cater to all kinds here."  The bartender continued to wait, his pencil nearly quivering with expectation.
     Josh took a moment to think, then glanced back at the young lady that was now leaving the stage.  She was replaced with an equally stunning specimen, this one sporting blonde hair and a black cat costume.  Based on what he'd seen on stage, their selection must be ample.
     "I want her tall, nearly six feet, with thick, dark, curly hair that reaches her ass; which should be tone and tight, topping long slender legs and petite toes.  She should have an hourglass figure, with large, firm breasts and huge nipples.  Athletic arms and painted nails, slender neck and a narrow face.  Almond-shaped, green eyes with long lashes and a button nose."  The bartender finished writing and made and exaggerated period at the bottom of the page.
     "Is that all, sir," the bartender said with the smile of a car salesman.  Josh thought for a moment and pictured the woman in his head.  If they could even come close, she'd be perfect.
     "I think that will do," he confirmed.  The bartender flipped his notepad closed and straightened up.
     "Very well, sir.  If you would follow me, we can finalize the paperwork."  The bartender headed to the far end of the bar.  Josh dropped off his stool and followed.
     "Did you say, 'paperwork?'" Josh queried as they reached the end of the bar.  The bartender stepped over to a simple looking door with a sign exclaiming 'Employees Only.'
     "A minor legal technicality," he explained.  Beyond the door was a hallway that led in the direction of the stage.  The bartender moved through the first door and held it open for Josh to enter.  
     "We have to make sure our girls are legally covered, right?" he said with a laugh, patting Josh on the back.  Josh wasn't sure he'd ever been in a strip club that had contracts, but he figured there was a first time for everything.  As the bartender motioned him to a chair in front of a large, cluttered desk, he shut the door and went to the far side of the table.
     There he turned to a computer and tapped away at the keyboard.  After a couple of minutes, Josh was starting to feel uneasy.  
     "Is this going to take long?" Josh asked, trying not to whine.
     "Not at all!" exclaimed the bartender.  Seconds later he reached toward the printer and pulled out a single sheet of paper.  Turning back to Josh, he presented it across the desk.  Josh took it and glanced it over.
     'I, the undersigned, hereby agree to blah, blah, blah … A female of the following appearance: blah, blah, blah … Satisfaction guaranteed.'  Josh had never seen that before either.  They guaranteed satisfaction?  What a place!
     "Just sign at the bottom," said the bartender, motioning to the pen on the desk.  Josh took the pen and signed his name.
     "Very good, sir."  The bartender took the paper, glanced at it himself and placed it in a manila folder with the name 'Tiffany' on it.  With that, the bartender stood and extended his hand.  Josh stood as well and took it, feeling overwhelmed by the man's strength.
     "Welcome aboard!" he announced, stepping out from behind the desk.  Josh's brow lowered I confusion, but he figured perhaps he was getting a club membership or something.
     "Thank you, mister…"
     "Just call me Manny," he said, opening the door once more and moving out.  Josh followed close behind.
     "Here are our dressing rooms," Manny explained as they moved down the hallway and past several doors.  "This is where the girls get ready for their performances."  Josh glanced through one open door and caught a glimpse of half-naked blonde who was applying make-up.
     They turned a corner and stopped in front of a set of stairs.  Manny motioned further down the hall.  "Down there is the entrance to the stage and the waitress' exit.  Girls start our on the main floor before while they're training to dance."  Josh started to get a bit irritated.
     "Thanks for the tour and all, Manny," he started, "But when do I get to see Tiffany."  Manny smiled wide and patted him on the shoulder.
     "Very soon.  Come with me upstairs."  Josh followed his lead and stumbled slightly as he ascended.  He attributed it to the alcohol in his system.  At the top of the steps was another long corridor with several doors.
     "These are the girls' living quarters, with a full kitchen and laundry at the end of the hall.  Two per room, no visitors after 9 p.m."  Manny moved down the hall and entered the third door on the right.  Josh was more than ready to get with Tiffany after the tour.  He moved into the room behind his guide.
     The room was small, fitted with two beds, nightstands, wardrobes, desks, and one refrigerator and television.  One side was decorated like a college dorm room, and the other side was inversely bare.  Clean, folded linen and a pillow sat on the empty bed.  Manny motioned to the empty half of the room.
     "The accommodations are modest but livable.  We're not too strict on decoration, as long as it is okay with the roommate."  Josh had finally had enough.
     "Manny, what is all this?  I thank you for showing me around, but could you just show me Tiffany."  He didn't want to sound to upset, lest he forfeit his contract.  Manny once again smiled wide and moved over to him.
     "Very well, she'll be here soon," he said, moving behind Josh and guiding him further into the room.  Josh moved as instructed assuming Manny was positioning him in the best place to see her when she entered the room.  Instead, the bartender turned him to face a full-length mirror, hanging just the other side of the undecorated wardrobe.
     "She'll be here 'very' soon," said Manny.  Josh's mouth dropped open.
     In the mirror he saw a person wearing his clothes and face, but with other features that were definitely not his own.  The hair was not blond but dark brown, and reached down to his shoulders.  His chin was no longer doubled, and exercise-denied arms were now fit and toned.  The collar of is blue T-shirt hung open, and the short-sleeve button-up he wore hung on him like a sheet.  His belt was no longer tight from his blossoming belly, but terribly loose, threatening to let his pants drop.  His socks were crumpled at his ankles and his shoes were loose on his feet.
     And as he stared, he could swear his face was changing!
     "What the…" Josh uttered, lifting his delicate hands to his face.  His nose shrunk and his face slimmed.  His eyebrows thinned and his eyes reshaped.  Brown eyes were suddenly replaced with green, while the blemishes on his skin suddenly smoothed, leaving high cheekbones.  Then his ears disappeared under a thickening mane of dark curls that continued to sprout forth from his head.
     "This can't…" he started, noticing a change in his voice.  "Be happening," he continued, noting the higher pitch and melodious tone.  He looked at his hands as the nails lengthened and instantly colored themselves pink.  His eyes grew wide as he reached for his crotch.  The pants were loose, and under the fabric he felt his manhood diminish.
     A tingling spread across his chest, and he immediately pulled up his shirts and revealed his nipples: His large, erect, nipples.  Seeing his chest begin to bulge beneath his new aureoles, he placed each hand over his nipples.  His palms filled quickly with flesh, until his hands became trapped between his shirt and his pointy nipples.
     Pulling his hands out of his shirt, a rush of electricity flowed through his chest and down to his crotch.  Josh's body shuddered and he nearly passed out, but Manny caught his arms.  Holding him up, Manny whispered in his ear.
     "Isn't she everything you asked and more?  A perfect model of what you desired.  You're sure to turn more than a few heads."  Josh's mind was racing.
     "What do you mean?" he muttered, feeling something in his mouth.  Sticking out his tongue, he saw a gold stud sticking through its center.  Suddenly, his clothes began to ripple and shrink, hugging all over his body.
     In moments, the mirror showed a beautiful, long-haired woman with ample breasts, bulging inside a button-up vest.  A lace choker was around her neck, and pearl earrings dangled aside her face.  Fine athletic legs were contained within tight leather pants and her feet stood high in four-inch black pumps.
     Suddenly Manny was gone, and Josh was left to stand on his own.  All he could do was stare at the vision in the mirror, a body once in his mind, now his mind in the body.  
     "Ahem," Manny uttered drawing Josh's eyes in his direction.  He was standing in front of an opened wardrobe, in which hung many different outfits.  On the door hung a red halter-top and a black mini-skirt.
     "You'll start on the floor tonight," Manny stated.  "Minimum wage to start, plus your share of the floor tips.  Any cash you make otherwise," he motioned to the bed, "Is yours alone."
     Josh wiped away the tears forming in his eyes and strained to sound angry.  
     "You can't do this to me!  I insist you change me back!"  Now the look of confusion was on Manny's face.
     "Is this not the body you described?  Did you not sign the contract?  Why else would you mention the sign?"  Manny turned to exit.  Josh stumbled after him in the unfamiliar heels.  He wound up on his knees, grabbing at the bartender's leg.
     "Please!  Change me back!  I can't live like this!"  Manny shook his head.
     "You're safer here than anywhere else.  You've got no identification, no record of your existence, and the disposal of your old life has already been arranged, as per the contract.  
     "Besides," he said, pulling Josh to his feet, "No one will believe you."  With that, he grabbed Josh's bosom, catching him by surprise.  Josh screamed and pushed away from Manny, clutching his new breasts protectively.  Tears formed once more as he sat on his new bed.
     Manny moved to the door and paused.
     "Now get dressed, Tiffany.  Your first shift starts 15 minutes."  Manny vanished behind the door, which shut with a slam.  Josh, now Tiffany, was left alone, struggling to come to grips with his new existence.
     Downstairs, Manny returned to the bar and began to wipe it down.  He was sure Tiffany would come to terms, just as Roxanne, Dianna and Melody had.  As he wrung out his rag, he noticed the bank of switches that controlled the entire establishment's lights.  One switch was only half on.  He quickly flicked it up and returned to his work.
     Outside, the glowing sign was suddenly extended with another word, glowing in yellow below the original three.  The sign shined anew, it's meaning subtly changed: 'Girls, Girls, Girls – Wanted.'