The Hostess, The Octopus and The Doctor

I looked down at myself with disgust. I was wearing what went for a uniform; short black leather skirt, fishnet tights and red high heels...

The Hostess, The Octopus and The Doctor

By Susan Brown

I put my lippy on and stood back.

I smiled, though the smile was a bit false.

‘Hello, I’m Miranda; Hi there, it’s Miranda; Would you like a dance, just call me.'

I looked down at myself with disgust. I was wearing what went for a uniform; short black leather skirt, fishnet tights and red high heels. I also wore a red satin blouse, open to show what assets I had; adequately supported by an underwired push up bra. I felt like a hooker in that getup. I preferred flowing skirts and more demure dresses; some chance of that, working in this dump!

I grimaced at my reflection. Why had I come to this?

The thump thump of the music invaded my ears. I had to get back; that’s what I was paid for.

I left the toilets and walked back into the club. The Flamingo Club was GLBT; a hangout for all those people that liked or lived the lifestyle. My job was to be a companion or escort for those who needed erm escorting. I was paid by the club to look after, hang out, befriend or whatever the punters who frequented the place wanted.

Being a pre op tranny, in need of finances for the final op and having no qualifications to speak of, I had resorted to this. I was quite pretty, thin, nice legs and my boobs though still small, were growing gradually on the diet of pills given to me by a sympathetic doctor.

It was the old story, rejected by parents that thought I was the Antichrist for wanting to dress and live as a woman. I knew it was a mistake telling them, but I thought that they were a bit broad minded as my brother was as gay as they came.

Anyway, I was chucked out at 17 and have been living temporary accommodation or squats ever since. Now at the tender age of 21, I was working at The Flamingo. The pay wasn’t great and you had to rely on tips from the customers. My job was to get them to pay for as many drinks as possible; anything else like ‘extras’ were down to me.

Some of the girls and boys working there took the ‘extras’ side of the job to the extreme. I didn’t want that, I was still a virgin and sort of proud of it. So I didn’t make as much as the others did, but I was managing and I thought, if I was lucky and kept my looks and health, I would be able to afford the op in about five years.

As I left the Ladies necessarium, Brian was there, my boss; the one who’s look almost always lingered on my growing breasts or expanding rear end and not much else. He was leering as usual.

‘Ah, there you are Miranda, I was looking for you.’

‘Yes Brian?’

‘There is a gentleman at the bar who is dying to see you again.’

I looked over to where he was pointed and shuddered slightly. It was Phil, the octopus. He had wandering hands and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I was bi sexual, but if there was one person that would put me off men, it was him. He smelt of cigarettes and his personal hygiene was questionable....

He wasn’t like Ben; now I liked Ben, he was nice. He only came about once a month and I liked the way he treated me. Not like a bit of meat, but a real person. He was, I suppose about 30 to 35 and was a bit taller than me. He had dark slightly wavy hair and lovely white teeth, well built but not too muscly; he was a gentleman and I always had a good time with him. He never made improper suggestions and the most he ever did was kiss me goodnight; mind you, what a kiss…I loved dancing with him and got quite aroused when we did a slow dance. He always dressed nicely, casual but tidy. Mind you, he was a bit shy and it took a while before he came out of himself. I once asked him what he saw in a girl like me and I’ll never forget what he said.

‘I look at you and can only see loveliness. I don’t know why I’m attracted to T Girls, but that’s just the way I am. I have secret though.’


I always wear silky panties, it’s a fop to my feminine side, and anyway they feel nice.’

‘We both laughed and agreed with that!

Phil was the complete opposite of Ben and it I just wished that there were less men like the octopus and more people like Ben.


It was about three in the morning when I finally got home...home being a tiny bedsit at the top of a house, full of tiny bedsits.

I shut and bolted the door behind me, breathing a sigh of relief that at least I didn’t have to go back to work until tomorrow evening.

I sat down and took my heels off, rubbing my feet and sighing with relief. Then I got up again and stripped off. I had a long mirror on the back of the bathroom door, and as I went in for my bath, I caught a glimpse of my naked body. I stood sideways and could see that my breasts were definitely getting bigger, near enough size A now. I scratched my nipples, as they itched a bit and shuddered as I felt some pleasure from that simple action. Looking in the mirror again, I could see that my body had started to curve slightly differently too, where the fat, what I had of it, had redistributed itself around my hips. Between my legs was the shrivelled up remains of my boyhood — never big, but now a poor excuse for a penis. Luckily, I never had much in the way of body hair so that wasn’t a major problem. I still had to shave, but not much. When I could afford it, I would permanently get rid of that sign of manliness too.

I ran the bath, and was soon sinking in the bubbles and relaxing for the first time in hours.

My mind drifted back to the evening and my time with the octopus — sorry, I mean Phil. Once again, he promised me large amounts of money if I agreed to go to his hotel room for a bit of ‘fun,’ as he liked to call it. I shuddered, getting goose bumps at the thought even though the water was quite warm.

I pushed all unpleasant thoughts out of my mind and finally relaxed.

I woke up with a jolt. The water was cool to say the least and I had obviously fallen asleep. Looking at the clock on the wall, I noticed that it was nearly 3.00am!

Yawning, I got up and pulled the plug out of the bath. After cleaning up the bathroom, I put on my nightie and downed my pills with the help of some tepid water.

Yawning again, I collapsed on the bed and in seconds, was asleep.

Next morning I woke up gradually. I liked this time of day; it was nice as I had hours before I had to go to work and I could lounge about, go to the library or do things that normal people do.

However, being me, I got up, put on some jogging pants, sports bra and sweat shirt and went for my usual three mile run. A girl needed to keep in shape!

As I went around the park, passing other runners, people on bikes, walkers or other early birds, I breathed in the fresh air; much nicer than the stink of the club. I decided, as I was near the end of the run, that I would do a little sprint, imagining myself to be in the Olympics, nearing the finishing line. I picked up my pace and in no time I was blowing hard trying to beat Paula Radcliffe in the final 800; The crowds were cheering and I could see the finishing line…then I tripped over on my shoelaces…


I woke up with a headache to end all headaches…

Groaning, I opened my eyes and quickly shut them again. The lights were very bright; then opening one eye slightly, I could see that I was in a room of some sort. My eye became accustomed to the light and so I cautiously opened the other one. I then saw that I appeared to be in a hospital room. I didn’t have much time to think of anything else, as someone came into the room. My eyes came into focus as I saw a nurse walk up to the bed.

‘Hi, how are you feeling?’

‘Was I hit by a lorry?’

She laughed.

‘No, you fell over your shoelaces and hit a park bench.’

‘Will I live?’


‘That’s something anyway.’

She stuck a thermometer in my mouth and grabbed hold of my wrist, looking at her watch.

‘Hmm, temperature still a bit high and pulse erratic. Not surprising when you’ve cracked your skull.’

I felt my head; it had a bandage around it and hurt to touch.


‘Leave it alone, silly! Now are you hungry?’

‘No, a bit thirsty.’

She picked up a glass and poured some water from a jug.

‘Okay, sip it slowly.

I did as I was told and enjoyed the cool liquid as it went down my throat.


‘That’s okay. The doctor will be around soon, to check up on you. Will you be okay for a while?’

‘Can I have something for my headache?’

‘No problem.’

She went out for a few minutes and came back with two pills. After taking them and thanking her, I drifted off to sleep.

I had a vivid dream, although when you are dreaming, you don’t realise it.

I was in a ballroom. It was full of men in dinner suits and ladies in long dresses, dancing away to music provided by a small group of musicians up on the mezzanine floor. I was wearing a long white flowing gown, with white opera gloves. I felt very pretty. I was sitting with some other ladies, my feet tapping in time to the music. I was talking to one old lady who was bemoaning the fact that in her day, men were flocking all over her, but now, she had to sit by and watch others enjoy themselves.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and looking up; I could see that it was Ben, resplendent in his dark dinner jacket and spotless white shirt.

‘Can I have this dance?’ He said in that deep attractive voice that I like so much.

I just nodded and stood up, taking his arm as he led me to the dance floor.

As we danced, I was conscious of his close proximity, his smile, the way he looked at me and the fact that my heart was beating strongly in my breast.

We spoke little, we didn’t need to. We just enjoyed the dancing and the company. We must have danced for an hour before I had to rest my aching ankles. Ben took me back to my table, now empty as the old lady and her companions had either left or gone elsewhere.

‘Would you like a drink?’

‘Yes please.’

‘What would you like?’

‘A white wine spritzer?’

‘Coming up.’

I watched him as he walked away to get my drinks. I loved the way he walked, firm but gentle, I would say.

I felt the need to use the facilities and as I knew that Ben may be a little while, I went to powder my nose.

On coming out of the rest room, I was grabbed by the arm.

‘There you are; come on we can dance now.’

I looked at the man in horror; it was Phil!

‘I’m with someone.’

‘Yes, me.’

‘No, please, I mean it. I am with someone.’

He was wearing a dinner jacket like the other men there, but somehow he looked shabbier and more unkempt and he still had the nasty smell of cigarettes and cheap whiskey on him.

He started to drag me onto the dance floor. I couldn’t understand why no one was stopping him. It was as if we were in a bubble and nobody could see, hear or touch us. I struggled as hard as I could, but he was too strong for me. Soon we were in the middle of the floor, and he was leading me around it despite my protestations. I shut my eyes, hating every moment until we stopped dead. The music had stopped and there was no one else on the dance floor. Phil was looking over my shoulder and he had gone quite pale.

I heard a voice behind me and I smiled. It was my knight in shining armour, come to my rescue!

‘My dance, I think,’ said Ben.

Phil let his arms drop and then looked at me wistfully.

‘We were great together.’

I just looked at him and shook my head, disdainfully.

I felt a gentle pull on my arm and I was face to face with Ben. Soon, Phil was forgotten as we danced the night away…

I woke up and saw that it was a bit darker outside. I was lying down, facing the window and still felt the mists of my dream as I gradually woke up. My headache was now just a dull throb and I was content to stay just as I was. The dream was fading as they do, but it left me feeling warm and happy.

Someone coughed and I jumped slightly.

I turned over with some difficulty as the hospital gown had ridden up somewhat.

As I turned, I saw him and nearly had a relapse.


‘Hallo sleepy head, how are you feeling?’

He had that smile on his face, the one I liked so much, but what, why?

‘Ben…it’s you!’

‘I hope so. It was when I looked in the mirror, this morning.’

‘I don’t understand…’

‘What don’t you understand?’

‘Why are you here?’

‘Don’t you want to see me?’

‘Of course, it’s just…’

He put his hand over mine.

‘Well, this may sound a bit corny, but, I’m a doctor here and my boss poked about in your head earlier today. I was assisting him, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when I realised that it was you we were operating on.’

I couldn’t take all this in at once and I was feeling a bit dim.

‘But…but, why are you here?’

‘I think that you are still a bit dopy with the anaesthetic so I think that I’ll take advantage of you and break the Hippocratic oath…not sure that it covers this, but here goes.’

He stood up leant over me and kissed me gently on the lips.

It was wonderful and my heart monitor started to bleep quite quickly for some reason.

‘I’ll come back tomorrow morning and we can talk.’

He kissed me again and left.

A few seconds my eyes shut and I was asleep again.

The next morning, I was feeling much better. I remembered vaguely my dream about Ben and Phil and the second one, where Ben was in the room and kissing me.

I sighed as I ate my cornflakes. It was a nice dream and I imagined what it would be like…to be married to Ben and have a wedding in a lovely flowing white dress…to be complete as a woman, to have children, adopted, of course, live in a nice house…

I shook my head. I was being stupid. I knew that I was a bit fixated with Ben. I liked him a lot the first time I met him and after that it grew to affection and then love; one sided love, as how could he or anyone want someone like me.

I nibbled at my now cold toast and wondered how long I would be in here. The doctors were going to have their rounds at about 10.00am, according to the nurse, perhaps I could ask then. I had been woken up at six for a bed bath and I had told the nurse then a bit about my personal circumstances; being a pro op transsexual. She didn’t bat an eyelid as it seems that I wasn’t the first one like me to darken their doors and anyway, they had rules about gender stuff that meant that they would not be judgemental or treat me any differently from my chosen gender….that was nice. She even found me a nice pink cotton nightie to put on instead of the shapeless and tasteless hospital gown and I felt a bit more feminine despite having a turban on my head due to my injury.

I read a girlie magazine that was only four years old and drifted in and out of sleep. I woke up at the sound of the door opening and in came a whole pile of doctors, one was older than the rest and he came over to me.

‘Hello, Miranda, how are you feeling?’

‘Better thanks,’

‘That’s good. I’m Mr. Jackson, you can call me Ken. This rabble are my students, ignore them, they don’t know their collective arse from their elbows!’

I giggled for some reason.

‘Now, you had a nasty crack on your head, and I had to fish a few splinters out. I managed to get everything and sew you up as good as new. We have to keep an eye on you for about a week though, just in case of infection…but I think you should be okay; any questions?’

‘Erm, I need my pills.’

‘What pills are they?’

‘Erm…hormone pills.’

‘Oh yes, I’ve got a note about that on your records. We will make sure that you get them whilst you’re here; anything else?’

‘Have I got any hair left?’

‘Typical womens’ question. We had to cut a bit off, but the rest of your hair will cover it up and it should grow back. Was there anything else you need to know?’

‘No thanks.’

‘Okay, just lie there and rest. Call the nurse if you need anything and if your headache comes back, let us know. You will be feeling a bit up and down for a while so be prepared, okay?’

I just nodded.

‘Right, you lot, let’s go see the next victim!’

They all followed him out leaving me to rest some more.

I was just shutting my eyes, when the door opened again.

Looking up, I gasped as I saw that it was Ben!

‘Hello, gorgeous how are you feeling?’

He came over to the bed and sat down on it. He put his warm hand over mine and I went a bit gooey.

‘I…I…it wasn’t a dream!’

‘What wasn’t?’

‘You…last night.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I had a dream that you were sitting next to the bed and holding my hand and then you kissed me.’

‘Didn’t you want me to kiss you?’

‘No…yes…yes, of course I did, but it was just a dream.’

‘No it wasn’t, I was here.’

‘So you are a doctor.’

‘Well the white coat and the stethoscope is a bit of a give away, but yes, I’m a doctor.’


‘Is that all you’ve got to say?’

‘No…I mean, I don’t…I don’t know what to say.’

‘Oh…don’t you like me then?’

‘Yes, of course I do…I love you.’

My hand went over my mouth and I shut my eyes. I didn’t mean to say that. How could I love him or rather him, me? I was a hostess, working in a crappy place I lived in a dump and hadn’t anything going for me. He was a doctor and let’s face it, we didn’t move in the same social circle…well I didn’t have a circle, as such, but I’m sure he did…

He took my hand away from my mouth and then I felt his soft sweet lips on mine. I opened my eyes in surprise and then closed them again as things got interesting and our lips parted and tongues entwined.

After about three weeks, we parted, breathing rather heavily. I felt flushed and he looked happy.

‘Ben…you can’t want me, I’m nothing…’

‘Don’t ever say that; you are what you make yourself and when we get married, I’ll make sure that you are happy and do what you want to do.’

‘It’s not as easy as that Ben………..MARRIED! Did you just say married?’


‘To me?’

‘Of course.’

‘We can’t.’

‘Why not? I have the normal set of arms and legs. I’m presentable and I clean my teeth twice a day…’

‘It’s not that. I’m not good enough…’

‘Oh yes you are. Do you love me; yes or no?’

‘Yes, but…’

‘Yes but nothing. As soon as I saw you, I was attracted to you and then grew to love you. It was only my shyness that stopped me from going any further. When I saw you on the operating table, I realised that I couldn’t be without you. Now, will you marry me?’

‘Is it legal?’

‘Yes it is now. Will you marry me?’

‘If you really want me to.’

‘I do; now stop beating around the bush. Miranda, will you marry me?’

‘Yes please.’

We hugged and both of us had tears in our eyes

‘We’ll get married as soon as possible. I don’t want to let you out of my sight. Would you like a white wedding?’

‘Yes, I’d love it.’

‘You will have to sort out the brides maids. Luckily, I have a best man in mind. He would love to do it. I think you’ve met him at the club…nice bloke, name of Phil…’


‘Only joking… my brother Tom will do the deed.’

‘Thank God for that.’

We lived happily ever after and had 3 children, (one boy one girl and a Labrador).


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