American Girl Ch. 02

She picked up her identity documents and gave them the onceover. They were perfect and so they should be, Crystal Greystone was a legitimate American citizen, although she had died at birth in 1964. It was Crystal's task to present as a flamboyant young showgirl who was going to Las Vegas to perform as a drag queen at the Ambassador Hotel and Casino.

Steven Boland had represented himself as Crystal's manager and booked her for a four week appearance in the Boys Will Be Girls Spectacular review. This covered the time leading up to, during, and after the Cottage nuclear test during which Brett Beaumont would be visiting Las Vegas.

The rezidentura had ordered that Kyle was to use Crystal Greystone's identity exclusively for the operation so that if she was exposed she could seamlessly assume the identity of Kyle Gordon and escape without a trace. Crystal Greystone's identity was expendable. Because Kyle Gordon was a legitimate American citizen his identity was not expendable; he was too valuable.

Having packed her bags Crystal was ready to depart and took a taxi to Dulles airport and smirked at the driver who openly ogled her ass and legs as she climbed into the cab. She checked in seamlessly at the airport and waited for her flight at the bar sipping a gin and tonic, shooing away a few hopeful suitors. She had dressed provocatively on purpose. As of now she was a showgirl so she behaved like one. The pretty twenty-year-one-old with her long legs, pert bottom clad in skin-tight spandex, her perky breasts and pixie haircut framing her beautiful face caught the eye of most of the men at the airport.

She settled into her business class seat for the long journey, drinking the complimentary champagne offered by the stewardess, declining the recommended beef wellington selection for dinner, selecting the salad instead but accepting the proffered sauvignon blanc to go with it. A gin and tonic would be provided after take-off.

A handsome man in his fifties took the adjoining seat and gave Crystal an admiring look. Crystal was not at all ageist, in fact most of her suitors were older men but she was just not in the mood for idle flirting so she gave the man a wry smile and went back to her magazine.

As soon as the flight levelled out the hostesses served drinks, then the meal, and afterwards Crystal snuggled under the complimentary blanket and tried to sleep away the five hour flight. The passenger sitting beside her had tried his best to engage Crystal in conversation during the meal and when she had told him that she was a showgirl working in a review in a casino the man's interest piqued.

"Well you certainly have the looks and the legs for it," the man had said flirtatiously and Crystal had just smiled.

"Is it true that a lot of showgirls make a lot of money on the side?" the man smiled at her salaciously.

Crystal interpreted the implication and resented the man inferring that she was a hooker.

"I wouldn't know; it's my first gig in Vegas," she gave him a curt smile and shut down the conversation.

Crystal was just about to nod off when she felt the man's hand slither under her blanket and touch her ass. She ignored it even when the man moved his hand to her thigh and began to stroke her spandex sheathed flesh. The cabin lights had been dimmed and the man was taking advantage of the situation and thinking Crystal was some bimbo showgirl decided he would help himself. Crystal could hear his heavy breathing and sensed the rise and fall of the man's blanket as he masturbated himself while groping her.

The man's hand moved between her legs and stroked her there. Her tuck was tight and the man thought he was stroking her 'pussy' through those lycra leggings. Crystal decided to play along. She rolled over so that she was facing the man and opened her legs a little to facilitate his groping. She opened an eye and winked at him and the man grinned at her and rubbed harder at what he thought was her pussy.

Crystal put her finger to her lips.

"Shh," she whispered nodding at the other sleeping passengers.

The man nodded knowingly. He was about to join the 'Mile High Club' but they had to keep it secret from the hosties and the other passengers. The man sighed when Crystal's hand snaked under his blanket and she took his puny little cock in her hand. It was only four inches fully erect but Crystal had seen smaller in her line of work so she didn't think it was extraordinary.

She smiled at the man and licked her lips seductively and the man supressed a groan as Crystal softly stroked his throbbing cock.

He then supressed a scream when Crystal removed her hand from his shaft and gripped his scrotum and wrenched it. She squeezed it hard and the man felt like his testes were about to pop. His face was strained and sweat ran down his forehead and cheeks as he held a scream of agony inside him. He hissed and let out a low moan as Crystal twisted his testicles and then let them go.

She turned her back on him and went to sleep listening to the man moaning and whimpering softly. The man had a pronounced limp when he disembarked the aircraft and hobbled away down the concourse.

A limo picked Crystal up from the airport and drove her to the Ambassador Hotel where the concierge arranged for her to check in and had her bags sent up to her room. She was instructed to go to the office of Fred Winebrow, the casino manager and entertainment director, before she did anything else.

The front of house in the casino was all glitz and glamour but behind the scenes it was dusky and downtrodden. The Ambassador was an older casino that catered for middle-market patrons rather than the elite sophisticates and high rollers that frequented the more upmarket establishments.

Fred Winebrow appeared to be as dusky and downtrodden as the casino he managed with his ill-fitting cheap suit, front-porch belly and comb-over.

"Well aren't you the little chickadee? Most of the female impersonators in the show only dress like women when they are performing," Fred said by way of introduction.

"I thought you were a full-timer when we booked you under the name Crystal Greystone and there was no male name offered. You done this kinda work before?" Fred openly gawped at her appreciatively.

"I work the Pink Parrot nightclub back east as a performer and hostess but this show is a bigger production," Crystal admitted.

"Not much to it. Do your show as usual, sing your set then join the girls for the chorus-line finalé. Show plenty of T and A, show off those legs, smile prettily and be friendly to the punters after the show. There's a matinée, a supper show and a late show. Rehearsals start tomorrow at nine beginning with costume fitting. If you fuck a john up in your room you kick me back fifty, if you leave with him it's still fifty. You got it toots?" Fred smiled at her with his crooked teeth.

"It was all explained to me by my manager but not the part about fucking the customers. I'm not a hooker," Crystal said pleasantly enough.

She needed the job because Brett Beaumont was about to arrive in Las Vegas so she didn't overreact.

"That's up to you. Some of girls do, some don't. I don't care so long as I get my kickback," Fred smirked.

"Ok thanks Mister Winebrow. I'd like to head up to my room now. It was a long flight and I'm tired," Crystal picked up her travel bag.

"Hey, hey, hey missy, you forgot one thing," Fred stepped between her and the door and openly leered at her.

"Really? That's how it is?" Crystal sighed resignedly.

Fred nodded and unzipped his fly.

"All the showgirls give me a fuck or a blowjob when they first get here. Consider it your audition," Fred chuckled.

"I don't fuck the trannies very often but you're something special Crystal," Fred freed a rather large appendage that was bloated and ready to go.

Another time and another place Crystal would have given Fred Winebrow the same treatment she gave the man who groped her on the plane but Crystal was pragmatic. She had sex with men whom she despised when necessary for 'the cause'; it was an essential weapon in her arsenal. Her job at the moment was to work at the Ambassador as a showgirl and lure Brett Beaumont into a honey trap.

"Ok Fred. It's just this once so let's get this over with and make sure you use this," Crystal rummaged in her travel bag and produced a tube of K-Y Jelly.

Ever pragmatic, Crystal turned around and bent over Fred Winebrow's cluttered desk and presented herself. Fred smiled and dropped trou; this girl had an ass to die for. Fred hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Crystal's leggings and slid them down to her knees, her pert buttocks and long legs clad in the shimmering sheer pantyhose she wore under the tights were a magnificent sight and Fred stroked his cock to full tumescence.

He pushed his cock into the crevice between Crystal's buttocks and rubbed it, delighting in the feel of her silky pantyhose on his sensitive staff. Fred put his hand between Crystal's legs and found her tuck. He'd fucked a few of the trans showgirls over the years and he knew how they presented that perfect V in their crotch that so fascinated the audience. He rolled down her pantyhose and ripped away the tucking tape and then he pulled her pantyhose back up.

"You're taking liberties Fred, just get it over with please," Crystal wriggled her buttocks invitingly and Fred put his cock back on her ass and began to rub it.

Crystal's testes had descended and her flaccid cock was pressed flat against her belly, held there by her pantyhose and Fred reached around her and began to stroke it. Crystal was only human and when Fred began to caress her penis through the gossamer fabric she began to become tumescent.

Fred grinned as he felt Crystal's cock begin to swell and he pressed his cock into the crevice between her buttocks and Crystal obligingly pushed back. He reached for the lubricant and snagged a little hole in the back of Crystal's pantyhose, smeared his cock with the emollient and pushed it through the hole, nestling his glans in Crystal's cute little pink puckered bud. He wiped his greasy hands on his pants and gripped Crystal's hips and slowly slid his cock all the way inside her.

Not having to look at Fred's rather unpleasant face and shabby fat body was a blessing in a way because Fred knew how to use his cock and bent over the desk like this Crystal was able to enjoy it without watching him. He was stroking her now fully-erect penis through her pantyhose while Fred's cock slid in and out of her anus, his belly smacking on her buttocks as he fucked her.

Fred's cock was the perfect girth and length and it ignited those wonderful little sparks of delight from her stretched sphincter and the bulbous head pressed on Crystal's prostate and she began to leak precum which Fred rubbed into her cock as he massaged it.

Crystal let out a little whimper and Fred smiled and fucked her a little harder but not too much, he was enjoying fucking this long-legged transsexual. Her anus gripped his cock like a satin glove, she was tight but pliant and when she wriggled her buttocks it created a wondrous sensation that caused his cock to pulsate.

Crystal was actually enjoying being fucked but she was tired and ready for bed so she used all her tricks to trigger Fred's climax: wiggling her bottom, clenching and unclenching her sphincter, moaning appreciatively, uttering little obscenities, and pushing back to meet his thrusts. All of this also increased her own pleasure and Fred's fingers massaging her throbbing cock, smoothing the silky nylon along her steely shaft, was driving her own desires.

They climaxed together and Crystal's knees buckled with the intensity of her orgasm. Fred held her up, pushing her into the desk, driving his cock all the way inside her tight anus as he spewed his glutinous issue deep in her bowel. Crystal felt Fred's cock tremble as his hot seed filled her, his glans pressing on her prostate, his fingers squeezing her hard member and she swamped her pantyhose with creamy semen and her anus clenched tight around Fred's thrusting cock as she came.

"Oh my!" Crystal's verbal appreciation was understated; but only because her orgasm was so delicious and fulfilling.

Fred enjoyed the sensation of Crystal's pantyhose sheathed ass pressing into his belly as he emptied his issue deep inside her back passage as it rhythmically quivered around his shaft. He'd really like to turn her around and kiss her pretty mouth but Fred was pragmatic and took his pleasures where and when he could. Crystal's cock was filling his hand with her warm viscous spunk and the musky smell of sex filled his little office. Fred was a softy under his gruff exterior and he was glad the sexy young vixen had enjoyed herself when he fucked her.

Fred pulled his cock from Crystal's ass with an audible plop and his cum dribbled from her distended sphincter. Ever the gentleman he dropped a box of Kleenex in front of her face and snatched a handful of tissues to wipe Crystal's cum off his fingers before he pulled up his underpants and trousers. Crystal wiped away the semen leaking from her anus and consciously closed her sphincter then she dealt with the mess in the front of her pantyhose.

Having dried the front of her pantyhose and her cummy asshole as proficiently as possible under the circumstances, Crystal pulled up her pantyhose, tucked her genitals as best she could and then pulled up her pink spandex tights. Her tuck wasn't as tight as it was before but it was passable.

"Well that was fun," Fred lit a cigarette and offered the pack to Crystal who took one and lit it.

"And that's a onetime deal you said?" Crystal waved at the cloud of smoke surrounding her face.

"Honey, I get all the pussy I want from the girls who come in here applying for jobs in the casino. Every cocktail waitress, housemaid, cashier and even some of the hookers in Las Vegas dream of becoming a showgirl or they want to be a blackjack dealer or croupier. My dick is nearly worn to a stub," Fred chuckled.

"I wouldn't have bothered with you but you're so goddam pretty and you're special. I don't mind a little tranny tail now and then but yes honey, you've paid your dues," Fred said almost dismissively, waving her away.

"Well good because I need to sleep," Crystal dropped the tube of K-Y in her travel bag and took her leave.

Crystal was quietly surprised that her room was reasonably adequate. She'd expected it to be as shabby as the back of house given that the room was comped as part of her contract. She noted that the room had an interconnecting door to the adjoining suite and she wondered who lived next door. She showered quickly, washing away her makeup and the last of Fred Winebrow's cum. She fell into bed exhausted and slept until seven the next day.

Crystal went down to rehearsals wearing a leotard, dance tights, heels and a t-shirt, her makeup light. She stopped to get a to-go coffee at the twenty-four-hour café; the clientele looking tired after a night of gambling and carousing. The casino theatre was called The Envoy Cabaret and the seating was arranged around small tables, giving the place the intimate ambience of a nightclub. It seated an audience of around a hundred.

She followed the voices coming from back of stage and found the other girls in the dressing room. Including Crystal there were seven performers in the Boys Will Be Girls Spectacular. Five of them were male drag queens and there was one other transwoman. The men were getting out of their male attire and putting on tights and heels for the rehearsals. There wasn't a straight man in the house.

Crystal introduced herself to the other girls briefly and then met up with the producer and costume designer. For her solo act she had brought her own evening gown and a brunette bouffant wig that she wore at the Pink Parrot which the producer and designer inspected and gave a nod of approval. For the finale, the all-girl review performed as a chorus line all wearing the same costume consisting of a red and black jacquard push-up corset with hook and eye front and lace-up back. The bustier was worn with a blue satin jacket, white full-cut panties, a feathered headpiece and rhinestoned fishnet dance tights over sheer pantyhose and black high-heeled dance shoes. Crystal sarcastically thought the red, white and blue ensemble very patriotic.

The girls all wore matching blonde wigs provided with the costume. Crystal had already provided her measurements and the designer fitted her in the tight costume and fussed around adjusting it and made notes as to where it needed to be let out and taken in. The cost of the ensemble was taken out of the girls wages but at least they got to keep them after the show.

"I'll have this ready for a final fitting tomorrow before the dress rehearsal," the designer scurried away with the costume.

The rest of the morning was spent with the choreographer. Crystal was allotted her placement at the end of the chorus line because she was so tall. The other trans girl had a very similar stature and took the spot at the other ned of the chorus line. The other six girls were veterans of the show and had the choreo down pat. It was simple and consisted mainly of high-kicks, sashays, shimmies and shakes, more burlesque than dance and it didn't take Crystal long to get it right.

After a light lunch the girls rehearsed their individual acts. Crystal and Michelle Dupree, the other trans girl, had solo singing numbers, one of the queens did racy stand-up comedy, two did choreographed lip-synchs which included death-drops, splits and other gymnastics and the other two did a Mutt and Jeff comedy double routine.

It was obvious to Crystal that the others viewed her as an outsider; an interloper brought in by Fred Winebrow to fill a vacant position. Crystal didn't mind. She didn't want to get to know the drag queens outside of their professional employment. This operation would go smoother if Crystal remained alone and detached from the others.

Michelle Dupree was a different kettle of fish and seemed to see Crystal Greystone as some sort of soul sister and invited her to get a drink together after the rehearsal. It turned out that Michelle had the room adjoining Crystal's.

Crystal and Michelle perched themselves in a far corner of the L-shaped cocktail bar and both ordered beers. They were thirsty after the rehearsal.

"Don't worry about the other girls, they've been a troupe since the review started and you're new, they'll warm to you," Michelle smiled.

The other 'girls', were all men who performed as drag queens but it was common in the business for drag queens to refer to each other using the female vernacular.

"That's fine. I'm just a temporary replacement; the girls at the Pink Parrot can be just as bitchy," Crystal smiled warmly.

None of the other girls would warm to Crystal if they knew that it was a KGB operative who had staged the accident that caused the drag queen missing from the review to break her leg which created the opportunity for Crystal to be offered the vacant position.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Michelle leaned in and Crystal could smell her perfume and a little perspiration; they were still dressed in their dance tights and leotards.

Crystal nodded and took a long sip of her ice-cold beer.

"Are you a transwoman? It's just, I notice, if you don't me saying, that you are still using breastforms and don't appear to have had any surgery," Michelle blushed a little.

Crystal was ready for the question. Her backstory had been crafted and practiced with her handler.

"You know how hard it is to transition and I'm not just talking about the prejudice and misinformation. I'm under the care of a psychiatrist who is supportive of my need to become a woman but before he will approve any surgeries he wants me to live full-time as a woman for an extended period to prove to him and myself that I'm not making a mistake," Crystal lied.