The Vampire's Lair




How Some Hot Young Latino Men
Saved Me From Big Bad Jack... Well, Almost

June 15, 1996

Maybe I shouldn't have entered Woody's alone.

Mary wasn't feeling too well, so she dropped me off at the club and agreed to come back later in the night to pick me up. I had two hours by myself to "play." There I was decked out to the max, my image of what a hooker slut should look like, the very type of girl some people would refer to as a "Catholic school dropout."

Let's see... I wore a black skintight long sleeved tee with the word "BABE" shaped in silver beads emblazoned across the chest, a short black lace skirt to show off a lot of thigh, black suede over-the-thigh dancing boots to direct the viewer's eyes to my smooth well-shaven and well-moisturized legs, and an awesome Oriental style silver chain belt that draped around my waist, accentuating its thinness.

I secretly loved looks like this because - hey - I'm a sexy vampire! And, besides, not too long ago a number of fans sent me letters asking to see more pictures of me in short skirts. Who am I to say no to my fans? And why not go to extremes while doing it?

That night I decided to wear a new set of silicone boobs I had recently purchased: Spenco's Nearly Me Full Oval Symmetrical Mastectomy Forms. I bought the perfect bra for these boobs: Warner's # 1503 Lace Dressing Underwire "UltraBra," which Warner's claims is "guaranteed comfort for the fuller figure."

Some of the UltraBra's features are: 1) a seamless satin shell covers the breast; the bra straps and trim are in a beautiful floral lace design; 2) a European arc wire provides support and comfort and holds your silicone boobs in place; 3) its wide shoulder straps provide comfort and support and won't slip off your shoulders. I got myself a 38C UltraBra, a good size because my 38C Nearly Me boobs needed every inch of it. My Nearly Me boobs are definitely fuller than my Mirage boobs, but not as gigantic as my 38D Jodee mastectomy bra boobs.

All I can say about my Nearly Me boobs is... wow. They have exceeded my expectations (but not the reseller who sold them to me, though; where's my refund check for shipping back the first pair of "fishing worm" boobs that you misshipped me, Miss D.B. Associates?). The Nearly Me's are very weighty and soft like real breasts and quickly warm up to your body temperature. The nipples do not stick out like they're perpetually "cold," like my Mirage boobs. The Nearly Me boobs reminded me of Frederick's silicone boobs, but with a lot more fullness. The slightly concave back of these boobs do not lay too well on the male chest wall, however, so a good bra is definitely needed to press the boobs against the body to give them a realistic shape. Hence, the UltraBra.

The skirt I wore that night was actually a "skort." Black lycra shorts were attached underneath the skirt. This is the most awesome skirt a crossdresser can get (it holds your goodies in) and I wish I remembered where I bought it from (it was one of those club clothing mallrat stores). I wore Espi Lopez's Classic Curves lower torso enhancer brief underneath my skirt, but I wasn't satisfied with how large Espi tailored the foam hip pads for me, so I shaped my own pads with an electric carving knife (one day I will get Espi to reshape the Classic Curves pads correctly for me) and inserted them into the pockets of the enhancer brief.

As you can see in the pictures, the padding gives me the illusion of shapely hips even in a short skirt! I shaped the pads so well that they blended against my skin smoothly, giving me a sleek shape from my hips all the way down to my lower thighs. The only way you could tell that I didn't have real hips was to feel me up.

This month, I'm wearing Avon's Beyond Color Lipstick in Cocoa. This is a medium dark brown color with a very sheer quality, nothing shiny or frosty about it. Beyond Color contains plenty of moisturizers to keep your lips feeling silky soft and smooth. Not only does it feel nice, but it smells nice, too. I like it! To get that natural summertime lipstick look, skip the lipliner. Coat your lips with lipstick, blot your lips with a paper towel, blot again and again until a very light coat of lipstick remains on your lips, and finally coat your lips with lipstick again, this time getting as close as possible to the outline of the first coat of lipstick without touching or going over the outline to prevent lipstick bleeding.

I typically use an eyelining pencil to darken and line my eyebrows. This time I used a medium brown eyeshadow to accentuate my brows. Defining brows with powder requires plenty of practice and you'll definitely need a bunch of q- tips to perfect that soft natural look. Playing up your eyes with light coats of eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara will also help define your eyebrows. I almost always place a narrow line of white eyeshadow above my eyelid and underneath my brow to give the illusion of depth in my eyes. It also adds a little pizzazz to my look.

My natural hair color is dark brown this time of the year, so I got Mary to use her hairstyling expertise and plenty of hairspray to blend my own front bangs in with the rest of the wig hair. Wisps of my front bangs can be seen falling over the top edge of the black headband I wore with my Rene of Paris wig. This time, I folded the headband up to show more of my face.

Now back to the show!

The moment I stepped into Woody's, I felt many eyes on me. As I walked up the stairs towards the dance room, I heard one guy say to another, "Wow!" He was right behind me. My skirt hugged my hips but rode up as I climbed the steps. It rode up real high, exposing all of my thighs. My crotch was well hidden by the skort, though. I don't believe in tucking unless I'm in a swimsuit or lycra stretch pants. Comfort is a key thing when going out dancing.

I walked by two pairs of guys in the dance room and one guy from each pair would drop his jaw and say "Damn!" out loud as I passed them by. That's when I knew I looked tempting. I had inserted Spenco gel soles inside my boots, so it felt like I was walking on a cushion of air. Coupled with the fact that my boobs moved in sync with my hips and I felt like a sex kitten as I walked across the room in front of the crowds of people.

I was sipping on a couple of drinks, an Alabama Slammer and then a Vampire, at one of the bars while listening to the great music. One of my Asian competitors from last year's Henri David Ball passed by. He was in boy mode and was quite friendly towards me as we exchanged hellos. He was accompanied by a pretty, young Asian "girl." My clubkid friends, Jayna and Sianna, also passed by. Sianna looked as cool and as daring as ever. We exchanged air kisses. She said she really liked my look. When Sianna turned back to the crowd to try and catch up with Jayna, she bumped into a guy she knew.

This man was rather short at five-foot-six or seven with a stocky (but not fat) build and a full head of hair in dire need of a haircut. Garbed in a black t-shirt, black pants, and silver wireframe glasses, he was definitely in his late thirties or early forties and resembled someone's father. He and Siana exchanged hugs and cheek kisses, since they apparently knew each other.

I had seen this man before. At every drag or female impersonation event, he would always be accompanied by a transie girl. He kind of spooked me because he really did look like someone's father and perhaps was sneaking out behind his wife's back doing the gay dance club thing, which, in a city like Philadelphia, happens more often than you can imagine.

He noticed me and I looked away. He walked across me to my line of sight, turned to look at me up and down with no regard to subtlety, and walked in the opposite direction out of my line of sight again. I smiled, but not at him, when he walked by. I thought his move was pretty funny. I kept sipping my Vampire.

He kept pausing and looking. He walked away a little, then quickly turned around, walked up to me, and fed me his opening line.

"I really like your outfit," he said. "What does that say?" he asked, looking at my chest. I pulled my hair aside so he could clearly read the word.

"It suits you," he responded.

"Thank you," I said smiling. Girl, was I a sucker for a comp!

He extended his hand and I took it. He introduced himself as "Jack" and I told him my name was Kalina.

Jack was direct. "So, would you like to dance?" he asked.

I stopped sipping my drink and gave him a quick smile.

"Maybe," I said. "Let me finish my drink first."

I took my time. Just like a typical guidette.

He nodded and decided to stay. Admittedly, I found him to be a very interesting person. He was a system administrator for a PC network by day; that part was boring to me, since I'm a Unix sysadmin and I make it a rule never to talk about computer geek stuff outside of work. What really fascinated me was his involvement with recording music for local bands. I revealed my extensive involvement in that area. He also talked about all of the female impersonation events in the area and why I should enter all of them and win them. I revealed to him that I won Most Beautiful Female Impersonator at last year's Henri David Ball and he congratulated me. This prompted him to put his hand on my back, rhythmically tapping on my back to the beat of the music.

Jack was a decent conversationalist. He actually gave you a chance to talk. He got to be more and more interesting as we talked and I began to get a feeling for why a transie girl or any person might be interested in him. There were some points in our conversation where I could feel that he was pausing as if to feed me another come-on line, which he, of course, did. Believe me, I've heard them all; I used to use them in my guido days.

When I finished my drink, Jack wanted to buy me another one, so I let him. Just like a typical guidette. This time, I went with a raspberry liqueur with orange juice, so that I could keep my senses. However, as interesting as Jack was, I had a problem with his looks. He was the furthest thing from being "my type." If I were a genetic girl, I wouldn't want him. If I were gay, I wouldn't want him, either. I know I could get much better looking guys than that! Still, I let him keep his hand on my back. I felt I owed him that much for buying me a drink. Unfortunately, this prevented other guys from approaching me.

As I was finishing the last drops of my drink, he asked me to dance with him again.

"Sure," I said. "Right after I use the bathroom."

He nodded and, as I stepped away from the bar, I felt slightly woozy.

I think he noticed this right away, because he grabbed me and pressed his body against mine, quickly feeling and stroking my butt, thighs, and hips with his wandering hands.

"Okay..." he whispered in my ear, groping me quickly and furiously. "But, make sure you come back. Ooh, baby... you feel SOOO GOOOD!!! You feel SO GOOD, baby!"

He didn't let go until I pulled his arms apart.

"AAACCKKK!!!" I thought to myself. I wasn't prepared for that!

I nodded with a nervous grin and headed towards the restroom wondering how I could make a quick escape to another part of the club. There was only one way in and out of the restroom, so I'd have to pass the bar where Jack was when I left. I couldn't leave the club, since my ride home wouldn't arrive until almost an hour later. Standing outside the club with the dealers and the wildlife wouldn't be very wise; someone might approach me thinking that I really was a hooker slut!

I did my business in the restroom. In a restroom stall, I checked my hips and refreshed my face, not for him, but for anyone else. When I felt woozy at the bar, I knew I was getting intoxicated and I also realized it when I had said "bathroom" instead of "restroom," a sure sign that the words coming out of my mouth were not my own. When Jack felt me up, he shook me out of my dizziness and I regained my senses. Good thing I didn't have him buy me a strong drink!

I stepped out of the restroom and there he was, waiting for me. Good God! A guy buys you a drink and he thinks you owe him something!

He wrapped his arm around me and led me by the hand to the dance floor.

"You are so hot, Kalina. I really want to be with you," he said, holding me close to him as if I were his prize.

Flattering as it may have been, being with him was the furthest thing from my mind and from reality. When I'm with one of my handsome guy friends, like Jonathan, I don't mind being escorted like that, but with Jack, well - eh - heh heh...

I danced with him halfheartedly for three or four songs. He couldn't dance to save his life. My fears were now confirmed. He not only looked like someone's father, but he danced like one, too. A sluggish father doing a two-step. I guess he thought he looked cool. He pressed his body against mine, lifted me up a couple of inches off the ground, and rubbed his crotch against me. Now, that was too weird!

He set me down and I continued dancing, but I really wasn't dancing with him. He then grabbed my hand, knelt before me, and started kissing the back of it passionately. I looked around hoping to find another guy with my gaze, hoping that some magical knight would whisk me away from this ghastly torment. No one answered my call.

Then I hit upon a great idea.

"Let's move towards the center of the dance floor," I said to him. It was next to the mirrored wall underneath the DJ booth. There I hoped to find myself another guy to save me from my misery.

Jack held onto me as I led the way. I tried pulling my arm away and losing him in the crowd, but he held on too tight, as if for dear life. And, why not? Like most every club guy, he probably wanted to get his money's worth buying me that drink!

The center of any dance floor always has more people who are into dancing. I call them "dance maniacs." I looked around at several dancing prospects. Jack was still dancing in his fatherly two-step in front of me. I turned away from him and he still did that stupid two-step thing situated in the same spot.

Just then, a cute, young, slim but muscular Hispanic boy of about five-foot-five in a red baseball cap danced behind me. He was dancing by himself and I found this to be the perfect opportunity to get away from Jack. He was butt to butt against me at one point, so I reached behind me and grabbed his waist, pressing his butt close to mine. He reciprocated, grabbing my waist as well. His waist was very firm and muscular with not an ounce of bodyfat. He turned around and grabbed me from behind, grinding his crotch into my butt and rubbing my waist all over with his hands. He then locked his arms with mine and we danced like that for the remainder of the song. Not too bad! Now that Jack saw me dancing with another guy, I thought Jack would get the hint and leave.

Unfortunately, the plan was not so good because it turned Jack on even more. He moved in close to me and whispered in my ear, "Uuh, baby! That was fantastic. You made me so hot!"

Jack was grossing me out! I turned away from him. The cute Hispanic guy was still dancing behind me pressing his body into mine; we were again back to back, our arms still interlocked.

Then Jack did a no-no. He rushed forward and grabbed my body with one arm, pulling me towards him and loosening me from the Hispanic boy. He took his other hand and reached underneath my skirt grabbing and rubbing my crotch as I turned my face away and said in a gasp, almost aloud, "Yikes!" He kept rubbing and rubbing, but I managed to break free from his grip. I stepped away from him in disgust. The Hispanic boy had backed off when he saw Jack pulling me away from him.

"Holy shit," I thought. I had been violated by someone's father.

But I didn't let that quick incident get the best of me. I regained my composure and continued dancing in front of the mirror by myself, turning my body away from him. I could take care of myself. He kept himself a short distance away from me at this point, but was still behind me. I looked around some more.

Then I noticed a group of three young Hispanic guys dancing with each other. One of them, a slim muscular guy of about five-foot-ten in an oversized hockey jersey and baggy pants stopped dancing and rested against the mirrored wall right beside me. I approached him.

"Hi," I said to him. "Do you wanna' dance with me?" I asked.

He motioned something that looked like fan waving.

"I'm really hot. I can't get into the music right now."

"I need a favor," I said. "You see that guy behind me? I don't like him. I want to get rid of him, so if you dance with me, maybe he'll get lost."

He looked at Jack.

"Oh, him?!" he said. "I've seen him around before... he's a pain in the neck! Sure, I'll dance with you!"

He said this with wild jubilance and began dancing with me with great fervor. This kind of dancing was what I liked and I danced with this young stud for many songs. His two friends saw him and I together. I turned to his friends, one of whom looked like a John Stamos type.

"There's a story behind this," I assured the pair. I told them about Jack. They eyed Jack and could understand why I was doing what I was doing. The pair of guys allowed me to get in between them and we did this really wild human sandwich thing complete with lots of crotch teasing and hip gyrations with our hands in the air while the first guy made high-pitched rolling "r" noises. I loved it! Now, this was my idea of fun!

By dancing with these three guys, I felt I had purged myself of the ickiness of Jack. In my mind, everything that Jack did with me - sans the unexpected crotch rubbing and silly hand kissing - the Hispanic guys did with me and I didn't mind one bit because they were fun, fit, and good-looking. Unlike Jack. All the while I was dancing with the Hispanic guys, Jack was still close by looking onward like some demented voyeuristic madman. His stern gaze was a little frightening underneath the disco lights. In between songs, I moved towards Jack and told him that "these guys were my friends and that I'd be dancing with them for a while."

I moved back to the Hispanic guy in the hockey jersey. Jack still didn't get the hint and no matter how close I got to the other guys, Jack was still two-stepping in the same spot, waiting patiently, eyeing me with possibly lewd intentions.

"God, he's still around," I whispered to the Hispanic guy. "And I told him I'd be dancing with you for a while."

"Who is that guy anyway? What's with his hair?" the Hispanic guy said, looking towards Jack with disgust.

Remember I had mentioned that Jack was in dire need of a haircut.

"Some straight guy pretending to be gay. You know the type!" I said to the Hispanic guy.

"Oh, God! One of those!" he said as we both laughed. Funny, if he only knew about me!

"Or, maybe a gay guy pretending to be straight!" I said as we laughed again.

The three Hispanic guys and I did another wild sandwich thing, this time the John Stamos lookalike pressed his crotch against my butt, my thigh was pressed against the crotch of the guy in the hockey jersey (and his thigh was pressed against my crotch), and the third Hispanic guy wrapped himself around the rest of us. We were all dancing, feeling each other up, making noises, and exchanging sweat like crazy. Picture it, practice it, and do it, girlfriends. It's fun!

When the music stopped, I hugged the three guys and thanked them. I turned towards the exit and hoped to make a quick getaway. No sign of Jack. I stopped and greeted two more of my Asian competitors-turned-friends from the Henri David Ball. Maybe I shouldn't have done this because when I said hi and bye and turned away from them, there was Jack. Yikes!

He grabbed my hand and I said, "Well... gotta' go! Bye!"

"Hold on!" he said, grabbing my hand more forcefully. He pulled me in closer and tried rubbing against me again, feeling my thigh as I tried pushing him away. He wouldn't let go. Once more, he reached underneath my skirt for a grab and then a rub, but I caught him much more quickly this time. I pushed both of his wandering hands away from my body with a lot more force. No more grabs. No more rubs. He didn't look too fazed by it. Didn't he see that I thought he was gross? Guess not. He pulled me towards the bar.

"Ooh... Kalina, you've made me so horny dancing with all those guys. You've really made me so damn horny," he said.

Frightening.

"I have to get your phone number. Maybe we could hook up some time. If you ever want to go to a pageant or a drag show with me, just give me a call," he said, slipping his phone number on a napkin into my hand.

Kill me now!

"Oh, God, you are so beautiful," he said. He then proceeded to take my hand and kiss the back of it passionately as before. He then moved towards me again and started kissing my neck. "I want you so bad," he said, whispering in my ear. Heavy breathing.

It's your own damn fault, horny Jack!

I stood there like a statue, looking at him, cold as ice. He backed away, looked at me, and finally got the hint, perhaps.

"Do you need a ride home or can you walk?" he asked.

"I can walk," I said. I wasn't going to let that groping motherf***er take me home!

He nodded and I walked away. Do you remember how Charlie Brown looked whenever he got frazzled? That wavy frown line on his face. That's what I must have looked like walking out of Woody's. When I walked out of the club, I thanked God for the beautiful traffic noise at 2:00am, a sound so remote from the thunderous, mind-numbing club music, the constant buzz of the club conversations, the ranting and raving of crazy clubkids, and the whims of perverted fatherly Jack. The traffic noise was refreshing.

I stepped into Mary's car. She was waiting for me when I got out.

"Did you have fun?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess..." I said hesitantly. "A bunch of Hispanic guys saved me."

And I just left it at that.

BZZTTT!!!

Every month I will present the BZZTTT!!! Award to a person, place, or thing that I feel represents the sheer goofiness or stupidity of the beauty industry, especially those people and places that cater to transies. Consider it a low honor to receive such an award from me or any other sexy vampire.

This month's BZZTTT!!! Award goes to a makeup artist named Angie W. I met recently who looked at my wrist and concluded that my undertones were "definitely olive." Olive undertones on an Asian girl? Yeah, right. Heh heh. I've been told blue-red, yellow orange, orange, almond, etc. Olive? That's a new one. Maybe my olive-colored contact lenses threw her off!

Kalina

The Sexy Vampire

Comments? Send 'em to Kalina

Meanwhile, check out Kalina's books. and don't miss her Pictorial! here.

© 1996 by cdspub.com


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