Girl's Night Out

By Peter Apps

 2011. The author retains all rights to this work. Do not copy, distribute or publish in any way without his prior consent.

Disclaimer The views expressed by the characters in this story are their own and do not represent the author's views. They are included, along with the strong language to provide a proper chronicle of the events depicted. It was their regular girls night out, a chance to relax with friends and have fun. At first the regulars found it difficult not to stare at the bulging biceps, tattoos and severe masculine features. Some even noticed their adam's apples. The girls accepted the banter aimed at them, often giving as good as they got, so gradually, attitudes settled down to a bemused acceptance. The exceptions were a couple of guys who saw their pub as a bastion for 'real' men and did not like it being invaded with 'poofs, weirdos and freaks'. Rather than go to the pub on ladies night they sat indoors discussing what should be done about it. We've got to do something otherwise we'll have Blacks, Pakis and all sorts of foreign muck in there, Joe said, tucking into his chicken vindaloo and Danish lager. Normally they would have done what red blooded macho men do when they're spoiling for a fight. They would have got steadily drunker while plotting more and more outlandish ways of getting rid of the girls. However on that particular night one of their friends arrived mid session. Black Harry had spent the last twenty four hours in police custody being questioned about stolen credit cards. If he had been suspected of murder or assault it would not have been so bad but credit card fraud was a bit white collar and did not fit in with his image. He needed to re-establish himself in front of his cronies and clearing out a pub to make way for themselves seemed a good way of doing it. He made a few phone calls and soon had a group of mates gathered together. As they entered the pub, Black Harry saw a number of the regulars already settled in. He also noticed the CCTV cameras and that the landlord was already eyeing them suspiciously. He quietly stood chatting to his mates about football and the new phone that he was going to buy.

He noticed one of the ladies searching her bag for cigarettes and matches and without making it too obvious they all drank up. They all reached the door together and even before they were outside the jostling and the insults began. Louisa glanced at Black Harry and saw the look in his eyes. She was a striking girl, petite, a natural blonde, stylish with a relaxed quiet manner. All she saw in Black Harry's eyes was vicious malevolence and she shuddered before returning to her table. Black Harry led his gang outside, laughing triumphantly at their first victory. Louisa had seen something else in Black Harry. Lust. It was not heterosexual or homosexual but a deep desire to control, humiliate and dominate. He saw Louisa as a natural target and she knew that he would now go after her until he had won. If nothing else, they would keep coming to the pub. Black Harry would encourage his gang and their friends to play up, driving out the quieter regulars, changing its character. The gang showed no signs of dispersing but they were not doing anything wrong. Maybe they were a little boisterous, a little noisy, making the odd insult just loud enough for the girls to hear. Instead of sitting down again, Louisa stood quietly, coming to a decision before kicking off her high heels, bending to reach her tight fitting skirt and ripping it along the seams so that it did not restrict her movements. As Major Lewis Stevenson, SAS he was used to reading people. It had kept him alive during tours of Afghanistan and Iraq, helping him to win the Military Cross and three Mentions in Despatches. He had been tired when he had received his honourable discharge, tired of the horrors of war and tired of living up to his families expectations. Lewis/Louisa liked what she had become and was not going let some yobbo spoil it. She was almost looking forward to the fight. For once, she was defending her freedom, her way of life and her right to choose. As Louisa prepared herself, Wendy stood up to join her. She was a little shorter than average, overweight and as a man outrageously

camp. As a woman she was just outrageous, almost a caricature of a cross dresser. Most of the regulars who normally laughed at her antics were surprised that she was not rushing hysterically around yelling that they were all about to be killed. Instead, they saw the steely glint and her look of determination. With varying degrees of reluctance, the other girls stood up to support their friends as Louisa led the way outside. The noise subsided as the louts turned to face the girls. Let's not have any trouble, lads. Louisa said quietly, Let's go back inside and I'll buy you all a drink. She noticed that a couple of the lads started to step forward, ready to accept but stopped when Black Harry did not move. Fuck you. he snarled, I don't want a fucking freak like you buying me a fucking drink. OK. How about going home so we can enjoy our drinks. Fuck you. Harry snarled again, You fucking freaks should be locked away. You fuck off. It was stalemate, the tension was almost physical and Wendy could not contain herself any longer. All this talk of fucking me is making me horny, she simpered, How about that alley, babe? Harry glared at her. At first it was just shock and then a terrible anger flooded through him. He lunged forward. No one can describe exactly what happened next. It was all so fast but suddenly Black Harry was lying on his back with Louisa's foot in his armpit and her hands grabbing his wrist twisting it painfully. Ow you're breaking my arm. Harry wailed plaintively, Get him off. The rest of the gang moved uncertainly forward, unsettled by their leader's unexpected defeat. The girls also advanced, reassured by their champion's success.

One of the lout's nerve failed him. He turned and ran. It was enough for his mates. They also turned and fled while the girls charged triumphantly forward. Someone hold him. Louisa commanded in full military mode. Wendy flopped down on top of him as Louisa tried to round up the rest of the girls. It was as well that she did. The girls had caught up with some of the louts and the noise was attracting attention. The emergency service was getting strange calls about groups of angry women setting about poor defenceless youths. When the police went to the pub, all they found was a group of cross dressers, perhaps a little flushed and excited, helping Louisa to pin up her skirt. They checked the area and found a number youngsters hurrying home sporting black eyes, cuts and bruises, too ashamed to admit who had got the better of them. Wendy's idea of holding Black Harry had been to kneel across him, straddling his shoulders. On one level he had nightmares about incredibly large pairs of pink knickers surrounded by amazingly thick legs descending towards his face to suffocate him or - considering what the knickers contained - something far worse. Winded when his back hit the ground, and with one arm still useless he waited helplessly as Wendy cheerfully explored his chest, stomach and even down inside his underwear. Wendy's ample back hid what was going on from the public while some of the regulars stood at the door looking on. They were glad that the louts had been dispersed before they had to leave. Though they would never admit it, they were enjoying the unfolding drama. The regulars always enjoyed a little shocked embarrassment at Wendy's antics though this scene was special. Always one to play to an audience, Wendy could not help displaying something she had discovered. She unzipped Harry's trousers and worked his underwear down a little to show that, at a baser level, Harry was actually enjoying her ministrations. He knew that his body had betrayed him. When word got out it would destroy the macho image that his friends expected. It was his most most humiliating experience of the night. He left town, was never seen again and there was no more trouble

at the pub on the girl's night out.

Email from a cross dresser

Hi Peter. Tee Hee. I had a friend about four years ago. An ex-SAS chap. ( well as Ex as you can get in that line of work), And He was a T-Girl. Used to get out and about in Woolwich and Plumstead, Getting into all sorts of trouble. So this actually sounds closer to reality than you knew when you penned it!. xx Sarah B