Femboi Hooters Pt. 09

Brendan didn't hate his job, but he wasn't enamoured with it either. With all the changes going on in his life, work just wasn't a priority right now. It was a source of income and nothing else. He wished he could go off-grid for a couple of weeks and lie on a quiet beach to clear his head, knowing his position and salary would still be waiting for him when he returned, but he knew that wasn't possible.

But Jessica was right. He was alone in what was essentially an unfurnished apartment that was too expensive for one person. He'd need to pay the rent on his own until he could terminate the lease and move somewhere else, and he needed an income for that. He wasn't sure how much longer his lease still had to run, but he thought it'd be another couple of months at least. He knew there'd be a financial penalty if he broke it early. He made a mental note to check.

On top of that, he felt psychologically uncomfortable being in the office. In darker moments, he felt sure everyone was talking about him behind his back, and he desperately wanted to know what they were saying about him. He tried to remember Jessica's advice, which basically boiled down to 'don't let them get inside your mind', but it wasn't easy.

Going out to the goth club last night was a thrilling mistake. He was curious to see Jessica's natural habitat, at the time thinking he was gonna quit work tomorrow and sleep in, but Jessica's words of financial wisdom brought him back to reality.

He made another coffee. He took a took a deep breath and steeled himself.

At least it was the weekend tomorrow, and he could sleep in and try to regroup.

He sighed as he took the first sip.

*

Brendan smiled politely as the day's greetings were passed around, but it was all an act. He didn't want to be here. He didn't feel like he belonged; it felt like people were examining him like a curio on display. He sat at his desk and turned his computer on. He felt his shoulders sag. It was gonna be a long day. While his laptop booted and whirred, he dragged himself to the kitchen to pour another coffee. He hadn't had enough sleep.

A colleague from accounts was washing a mug in the sink. "Hey," grinned Dave.

Brendan recoiled. Far too joyous for a morning like this. "Hey," he replied.

"Friday. TGIF, right?"

Brendan didn't reply. He watched his mug filling with dark black liquid.

"You OK, Brendan?"

He looked up from his task. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Like... it feels like you haven't been yourself lately, is everything OK?"

Brendan's eyes caught fire. "What fucking business is it of yours?"

Dave was only trying to be polite. He'd noticed Brendan had been away from work a few days earlier in the week and assumed he'd been ill. Personally, he was looking forward to the weekend -- he was planning to take his wife and kids camping, and all he wanted was a quiet day in the office until he could get out of the building and hit the road. He didn't mean to touch a nerve. "Shit, Brendan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Yes, you did, you fucking liar. Don't fucking bullshit me."

Dave backpedalled. He wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "Forget I said anything, Brendan."

"You've noticed, haven't you?"

Of course he had. Dave knew exactly what Brendan was talking about.

"Everyone's noticed, haven't they?"

Dave cleared his throat nervously. "Brendan, wait... I didn't mean..."

"Yes, you did." Too much caffeine and too little sleep left Brendan feeling aggressively fragile. His voice began to tremble and crack as it rose in volume. "Everyone's been talking about me behind my back, haven't they?"

Dave left the kitchen, not wanting to make a bad situation worse, but everyone within thirty feet of the kitchen area heard the commotion.

Brendan walked back to his desk accompanied by total silence. He sipped his coffee and tried to concentrate on work. He skimmed through three or four emails from corporate about upcoming changes to the way contracts were billed. Who cares. Delete. The next email was about someone's farewell. It contained a link to an e-card, asking for people to sign. He scowled. Nup. Never liked her anyway. He gulped the rest of his coffee down in three or four gulps, recoiling against the hot bitterness. He noticed his fingers were shaking.

Brendan's supervisor walked up behind him. "Hey," he said.

Brendan nearly jumped out of his skin. "WHAT?" His nerves were shot to hell.

Everyone in the office froze in place. Nobody spoke.

Brendan whirled around in his seat, and his tits jiggled just a little. He realised he'd overreacted. "Sorry, Ronnie." He tried to breathe deeply, but he was too wound up. "Sorry," he apologised again, forcing a thin smile. "What did you want to discuss? We've got a meeting about the Thompson file later today which I'm prepping for this morning, so..."

Ronnie's words were soft but even. "Brendan, could you come with me, please?" He followed his supervisor into a quiet meeting room at the far end of the floor. "Please take a seat."

Brendan sat down. His hands were shaking now.

"I'm worried about you," Ronnie began. "You've taken some time off this week, which you needed, and that's fine. We pride ourselves on being a company that cares about the wellbeing of its staff, but I just heard you yelling at Dave in the kitchen, and when I came over just now to see if you were feeling OK, you barked at me, which is totally out of character for you, so..."

"I'm really sorry," Brendan interrupted. He took a breath, but despite his best efforts not to cry, the tears began to flow. "This has been the strangest week and a half of my entire life." He noticed Ronnie's glance drift south. Everyone had noticed, including his supervisor, but Brendan didn't want this conversation to be about his appearance. "My ex moved out yesterday and she took almost everything. There's hardly any furniture left in my apartment. There's a bed, some kitchen stuff, my books and some other things, but that's about all that's left. I knew she was moving her stuff out yesterday while I was in the office, but when I got home last night, I was shocked at how much she took. Maybe I'm still processing."

Ronnie didn't respond.

"Like, she probably would've taken the fucking toilet bowl if it wasn't attached to the wall."

Ronnie could hear his colleague breathing. It was shallow and anxious. "Do you think you should be here right now, Brendan?"

Brendan wiped his eyes. "No, but like you said, I've been away most of this week, and I can't afford to get fired."

"Breakups are tough. I know, I've had one or two myself. Sounds like you've been through a lot lately, but I'm not sure things are gonna turn out well for you or for us if you stay here today."

Brendan was stunned. "Wait, are you firing me?"

"No."

"You sure? I'm really scared I'm gonna lose my job over this."

"I'm not firing you," Ronnie clarified, "but you're not going to be of much value here today. I'm sure we'll cope with the Thompson file."

"Thanks," sobbed Brendan. "I haven't been sleeping well either. I've had three coffees already and it's like 9am... that's not like me at all..."

"Yeah, you look wired as fuck," said Ronnie. "You've been a good employee for us, and I'm not prepared to write everything off just because you've had a bad personal week. Go home, try to get some sleep if you can, and I'm gonna set aside some time on Monday for you and I to talk. I know what it's like when you're living through a major life event and nothing makes sense, and I guess you're questioning why you're even here today."

"I'm not questioning anything," said Brendan. He didn't elaborate, leaving the meaning of his statement open to interpretation.

"What I meant was maybe you don't want to work here anymore," said Ronnie, "but that's something for you to consider. I know it won't be easy given your breakup, but try to get some rest over the weekend, and hopefully some clarity and perspective. Try to do some things that distract you from the here and now, hang out with some friends, and we can talk again on Monday." Brendan's supervisor paused for a second. "You know, I always thought you'd move into my role one day. There's a lot of potential for you here. If it's OK with you, I'd be happy to have a conversation with Dave about why you snapped at him. You know, to try to smooth the waters."

Brendan ran his fingers through his growing blonde hair. "Fine, whatever, I don't care. But it feels like everyone's ignoring the elephant in the room."

Ronnie cleared his throat. Here it comes.

"Or, to be more precise, the pair of elephants in the room."

"Brendan, all I want to know about your personal life is that you're happy, but I guess that's not the case right now given your recent breakup."

"So you're not curious about my tits?" He noticed Ronnie's eyes glance downward for a split second. "Gina in marketing's got a big pair. I'm sure you've noticed, right? She used to tell everyone she had the biggest rack in the firm, but she doesn't say that anymore. You know why, don't you? Because I'm bigger than she is." Brendan cupped his breasts. "You wanna see 'em? You wanna take a sneaky peek?"

During this conversation, Ronnie had been trying to give Brendan as much latitude as possible, but he wasn't prepared for this. "Brendan, that's not appropriate. I really think it'd be best if you took the rest of the day off. I'm not sure whether now is the right time for us to be having this conversation. I can tell there's a lot on your mind."

"There's a lot on my chest, too, in case you haven't noticed." Brendan paused for a second, trying to breathe. "Are people pussyfooting around me because my ex dumped me, or because I've suddenly got the biggest tits in town?"

Ronnie stood up. "OK, Brendan, you need to leave before you cross a line. See you on Monday." He wanted to check with Brendan that he had someone to look after him, but in the heat of the moment, it slipped his mind.

Brendan logged off, collected his things, and left. Nobody said a word. He arrived back at his apartment just before eleven. It didn't feel like home anymore; it felt like he was living in an expensive yet sparsely furnished hotel. He pulled the blinds to darken the room, climbed into bed and set an alarm for mid-afternoon. Despite the exhaustion he felt, the pulsing caffeine in his system kept him awake. He scrolled through socials on his phone for a while, hoping to slow his mind down. Eventually, he slept.

Brendan dreamed he was in a room. He didn't recognise the room; wherever it was, it didn't feel like he'd ever been here before. He didn't feel captured or trapped, but at the same time, he wasn't quite sure how he arrived here. He tried to remember, but his dream wouldn't relinquish its secret.

The room was brightly lit, but Brendan couldn't work out where the light was coming from. The walls were a crisp, pure white, amplifying the sensation of brightness. The floor was white, as was the ceiling. Despite the sensation of blinding light, he felt quite comfortable and completely at ease. Even though all six faces of the white cube he inhabited were identical, he still knew which way was up and which way was down.

He looked around the space. There was nothing of interest on the walls, there were no mirrors in the room, and he seemed to be the only person present. There was nothing else here except the bed he was lying upon.

He couldn't see any doors or openings in the walls. He didn't know how he could leave the room, not that he felt like he wanted to, and he couldn't work out how anyone else could possibly enter.

The cool air felt still and quiet. Brendan felt comfortable, warm and calm. Everything felt clean and pristine. Brendan sniffed the air -- there was no smell.

Time seemed to pass, but Brendan didn't feel bored or restless. He wasn't sure why he was here. He would've liked to know, but he didn't feel inquisitive enough to try to find out. Whatever it was he was here for, he didn't mind waiting, and he didn't have anywhere else he needed to be. He had a vague sense of hunger, or possibly thirst, but he couldn't distinguish between them.

In the real world, his chest rose and fell with his sleepy breath. In his dream, he was awake, patient and still.

Silently, a door opened in a corner of the room. A wedge of white wall gave way to total blackness on the other side. Brendan had thought there was no way in and no way out, but he couldn't deny what he was seeing -- a door was open.

For the first time in the dream, Brendan considered his own physical form. He was naked. He cupped his massive breasts and ran a finger across one of his nipples. He gasped, discovering how sensitive it was to his touch. As he squeezed each nipple, he felt his mouth yawn wide open in pleasure as dopamine flooded his system.

He dropped his hands down by his sides before exploring his genitalia. He didn't have a penis anymore. Instead, he found a tiny, sensitive clitoris. He couldn't find any vaginal opening, but he couldn't feel any testicles either. Just a clitty. Brendan wasn't sure which gender he was, but the question didn't bother him.

He licked his fingertips and thumbs. He teased his nipples again, and he felt his clitty respond.

His eyes focused on the open door, and suddenly, he realised he wasn't lying down on the bed anymore -- he was now on his knees.

A naked man had entered the room. Brendan noticed his dark skin, his full chest, his tattooed skin, his strong thighs, his thick neck, and the length of his enormous cock.

The man stood silently in front of Brendan and placed his hands on his hips. His huge dick waved in front of his face.

Brendan looked up at the man. He received no sign, no signal, and no gesture, but he could smell the delicious cock in front of him, and he sensed a response from him was required.

He placed both hands on the thick shaft waving in front of his face and began stroking it. He opened his lips and sucked it onto his tongue. The vague sense of hunger and thirst he felt became clearer, and he knew what he needed. He felt the shaft begin to thicken and expand in his mouth.

The man remained standing there, in front of him, hands on hips. No words were spoken.

Brendan sucked and stroked until his mouth was flooded with a thick load of sweet semen. He swallowed, but his senses of hunger and thirst only sharpened and accentuated.

The door in the wall opened again, and another naked man stepped forward. Again, Brendan couldn't help noticing how beautiful his tattooed chest was, how brown his skin was, and how enormous his cock was. Brendan gazed lovingly at the man's balls. They looked full and heavy, and he desperately wanted to taste what was inside them. His sense of thirst grew.

Brendan looked up at the man as he wrapped his hands around his fat anaconda. He stroked it with one hand, cupping his juicy balls with the other, before opening wide. He sucked the shaft as deep into his throat as he could, and within minutes, his efforts were rewarded with another thick load of sticky cream.

The door opened again, and this time, two men entered. He stroked them both, sucking them in turn before feeling them both explode all over his face at the same time.

Brendan gathered his breath. A part of him sensed what was about to occur.

An entire football team walked through the door looking like they'd just trained and showered. Some were wearing crisp white towels around their waists, but most were naked. Brendan was surrounded by ten, twenty, thirty, fifty, a hundred men, each as muscled as the next.

Brendan was the girl at the centre of a massive blowbang. He stroked, licked, sucked and kissed every cock in the room until he'd brought them all to climax. He looked up at the white ceiling and walls as thick ropes of cum rained down upon him from all corners of the room. It got in his hair, drenched his enormous tits, and splattered relentlessly across his face and neck. He was so fucking thirsty. No matter how much semen poured down upon his face and into his mouth, he couldn't get enough.

The room was slowly beginning to flood with sperm. Droplets on the floor morphed into puddles, and before long, ripples of cum were starting to lap at Brendan's knees.

He suddenly became aware that the room was empty again and the door in the wall was closed, though he couldn't work out where the battalion of football studs had gone. The only person left in the room was Brendan, though the floor of the clean white cube was pooled with puddles of cum.

Somewhere between his dream and reality, Brendan heard himself moaning. His tiny clitty twitched so hard it was almost violent. He hadn't had a wet dream since puberty, yet here he was, awoken from the sexiest dream he could ever remember, having busted so hard onto his bedsheets that a part of him felt cavernously empty. His breath came fast and heavy.

The sensation of cum on his skin lingered from his dream. He touched his face and discovered it was dry. He scooped up his gooey discharge with his fingers and hungrily licked his hand clean.

Brendan checked the time on his phone.

It was almost three o'clock in the afternoon, but Brendan felt like it was seven in the morning. His body clock had been shot to hell, but he felt refreshed. He threw the covers off, walked to the kitchen, and was relieved to find some food still left in the pantry. He grabbed some bread and was about to make himself a toastie when he discovered the toaster wasn't there anymore.

Thieving bitch from hell. Fuck this shit. There was a café two blocks away. He got dressed, walked the distance and ordered a cheese and tomato toastie. He sat at a corner table and inhaled it. It hit the spot.

Fuck that bitch. Fuck work. Fuck everything.

Just as he took his last bite, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Jessica. No words, just a love heart emoji.

His heart sang with joy.

It was time to get ready for his interview. He walked back home, took a shower, and dried himself off.

*

Brandy opened the bag of clothes Jessica had left for her to wear, and shook it empty on the bed. The first thing she noticed was a pair of frilly pink panties. She didn't remember trying those on the other night. She slipped them on over her feet and ankles, and as she pulled them up to her groin, tucking her little clitty inside, she'd never felt quite so feminine. She ran her fingers across her ass cheeks, feeling the smoothness of the fabric. Next was the bra. She was the same size as Jessica, so she already knew it'd fit perfectly, once she got it on. She still wasn't used to putting bras on, and because her brain and fingers hadn't yet mastered the art of fastening the clasps behind her, she was still doing the back-to-front-inside-out thing she'd been doing all week. One day, she'd have to ask Jessica for her secret. She tied herself in knots, clasped the bra in front of her, and as she unwound herself, her tits were snug in the cups. She walked to the bathroom and took a photo of herself.

Next was the t-shirt. Jessica had picked out a tight black tee for her to wear, with the aim of showing off her fat rack. She looked at the logo printed on the front. Bauhaus? Jessica said they were a goth band, but the only goth music Brandy knew was the few tunes she heard last night at the club. The t-shirt looked good on her, and right now, that was all that mattered.

She rolled on a new pair of black stockings Jessica had packed for her. They still had the Walmart price-tag attached, so Brandy assumed they'd been pocketed for her on the loading dock. She'd never worn stockings before, but she'd heard about the dangers of laddering. She tucked her toes in tight so her nails wouldn't catch.

Next was the skirt. Brandy held it up for a close examination. Fuck, it was barely even a belt. Good thing her clitty was so small. She fastened it around her waist and took another photo. The sweet curve of her ass cheeks, contained inside her nylons, was clearly visible. She felt so slutty. She grabbed her phone and took a closeup of her ass.

Brandy completed the ensemble by throwing a dressy black jacket of Jessica's over her shoulders, and by pulling on a black pair of 8-hole Doc boots. She took another photo, this time top to tail.

For now, Brandy took Jessica's jacket back off and lay it on her bed. She reached for her makeup kit, but tonight, she didn't want to overdo it. She wasn't out to seduce anyone; this was a job interview, and she needed to look professional. Tonight, there'd be no fake freckles. She applied some tasteful eyeshadow, a little mascara and blush, and some lipstick. She eschewed the glossy bright red.

She took some more photos in the bathroom mirror and sent the entire bundle to Jessica. She waited, hoping for a reassuring response, but her phone remained silent. She checked the time -- it was time to go.

Brandy grabbed Jessica's jacket and her car keys. She caught the lift to the basement, and drove off.

*

She pulled into the Hooters carpark, next door to the Kansas City speedway. The racetrack was quiet tonight. She switched on the interior light and checked her face in the rearview mirror. Although the light wasn't as bright as she'd have liked, Brandy was happy with what she saw. She fished her phone out of her handbag and looked up the Hooters website. She scrolled through, paying particular attention to the menu, just in case she was quizzed on what she knew about the business.

She stepped out, locked her car and took a deep breath. She walked nervously towards the entrance of the restaurant and opened the door. Male heads and torsos instantly swivelled in her direction. Someone whistled. Good signs.

"Brandy?" asked a woman.

Brandy coughed. "Yeah, that's me." She blinked against the bright lights of the dining area.

"Hi. I'm Lexi. I'm the manager of this Hooters franchise. It's nice to meet you, and thanks for coming in. Follow me out back."

Although she'd eaten here before, Brandy might've liked to spend a moment or two refamiliarising herself with the dining space. They walked down a corridor that led past the kitchen and into the back office. Brandy looked around. Compared to the well-lit and pristinely clean dining area, this room felt grubby and dank.

"Take a seat," Lexi offered. She logged Brandy's impressive rack. "What brings you here tonight?"

Lexi's tits were big too, though not quite as big as hers. "You asked me in for an interview?" Brandy checked.

"We did, and thanks for coming in, especially on a Friday evening." Lexi mentally straightened herself out in preparation for the conversation. "Alright. OK. So. Why do you want to be a Hooters Girl, Brandy?"

Brandy cleared her throat. "It's hard to say, to be honest. I guess I was attracted to a job advertisement I saw in a magazine. It wasn't so long ago when I first saw it, maybe just last week, and, well, I guess I'd like to give it a shot."

"Even though the pay is so modest?"

"It's three bucks an hour, right?"

Lexi grimaced. "Most of our wait staff rely on tips. Would you be OK with that?"

Brandy smiled. "I don't know, but I'm keen to try. I have a full time job right now, but in some ways, it's not quite working out for me. I'd love to see how a position at Hooters might work as a second job. I've got these big boobs, you see, and I thought I could put them to good use. If you gave me a job and things worked out well, then maybe I'd think about quitting my full time job to work more hours here, but it'd depend on how many shifts I got offered, and, of course, on how successful I am at earning tips."

Lexi glanced down at Brandy's fat titties, snug within her tight black t-shirt. She didn't foresee any immediate problems. Lexi was proud of her own rack, but she'd swap with Brandy any day of the week. She cleared her throat. "OK, let's change tack for a moment. What can you tell me about our menu?"

Brandy took the opportunity to mention she'd eaten at Hooters before, and her interviewer raised her eyebrows in surprise. They didn't get very many female customers through their doors, though something subtle about the way Brandy carried herself made Lexi wonder whether she was, in fact, a boy.

Brandy's menu recall was excellent, and when Lexi placed her in hypothetical situations where customers requested variations of the items on offer, she was able to make suggestions that would probably work for the customer as well as for the kitchen.

Lexi was impressed so far, but there were a few more hoops for Brandy to jump through. "Flirting," she said, setting the scene. "Customers are gonna hit on you, but you know the rules, right?"

"No touching," replied Brandy.

"No *deliberate* touching. No touching that could be misinterpreted. If a customer's fingers briefly touch yours while you're passing him a beer, for example, that's fine -- that's just part of the job. We like to make our clientele feel comfortable, and we want them to enjoy their experience at Hooters, but that doesn't extend to gestures such as resting your hand on theirs in an overly familiar way, stroking a customer's arm, touching their shoulder suggestively, and so forth. These are just examples, of course, but I'm sure you catch my drift. Now, while Hooters Girls are always expected to be professional and respectful, there are rules for customers, too. For instance, if a customer flirts lightly with you, be sure to flirt back if you feel comfortable doing so. I mean, that's the best way to make tips, and like I said, we want customers to have a good time with us. But if a customer's behaviour is inappropriate, like for instance if they say something creepy to you, you need to be firm with them if you think it's safe to do so, and either way, you need to report it."

"Can you give me an example?"

"Like, if a customer acts like a complete asshole to you. If we're expected to treat our customers with dignity and respect, they owe the same to us. If he demeans you, talks down to you, calls you names, asks you to join him in the back seat of his pickup truck; that's the kind of shit you need to report. This is our house. We respect our guests, but we don't take crap."

"Who would I report something like that to?"

"Me," said Lexi. "It's my job to protect my Hooters girls from assholes. And believe me, we get more in here than we'd like." Lexi cleared her throat. "OK, so that's flirting dealt with. Now, if you're serving a hot guy and you want to blow him in the carpark after he leaves, that's fine, so long as (a) you're not on the clock, in other words, you're on your scheduled break, (b) you don't get any of his cum on your uniform, and (c) you're fast. We've all been there before, so you won't be the first."

"Noted," smiled an attentive Brandy. "Make horny customers bust fast while keeping the outfit clean." She wished she'd brought something to write on.

"Now, there's one other thing," said Lexi, "and this is the awkward bit." She cleared her throat. "There's something... there's something different about you. There's something... like, I can't quite put my finger on it, so I'm just gonna come out and ask."

Brandy gulped. It was gonna be an early night.

"Are you a boy, Brandy?"

"No," said Brandy, though she could no longer tell whether this was the truth or a lie.

"You can be honest with me," said Lexi, but Brandy wasn't sure if she could. Lexi paused for a moment. "Let me put it another way," she said, glancing downward. "Do you have a penis hidden under that ridiculously tight skirt?"

Brandy still peed through it, of course, though recently she'd started peeing while sitting down. Did that make a difference? She gave the most honest answer she could. "I don't know. I guess I'm not so sure anymore." She exhaled. "I've been through a lot lately." Brandy sighed. "I don't know if this is gonna work out. Don't worry about it. I'm sorry for wasting your time." She stood up to leave, but Lexi's words stopped her in her tracks.

"You wanna try out tonight, Brandy?" For now, Lexi let it drop. Brandy wasn't an employee, so Lexi had no legal reason to pursue the question right now. If Brandy performed well and an employment contract was offered, she'd probably need to probe more deeply, but that could wait.

"Sure," Brandy answered, swivelling around. "That's what I'm here for. I'd love to."

"You're ready?"

"As I'll ever be. I think so. At least for a try-out, yes."

"We won't be paying you tonight, because you're not on our payroll, but you can keep whatever you earn in tips. Deal?"

Brandy nodded.

"Come with me." Lexi led Brandy across the room to what appeared to be a changing area. "We've got some different sizes of our uniform here, so maybe try a few on, find what fits, and if tonight goes well, we can order you your own outfit."

Brandy already knew what size uniform she took, right down to the sexy orange boots. "I'll just leave these here?" she asked Lexi as she unlaced Jessica's 8-hole Doc Marten boots. "These aren't mine, you see," she explained. "They belong to a friend." She thought for a second. "Wait, do you have lockers?"

"We do, and if tonight goes well and you decide you want to work here, we'll allocate a locker to you and give you a key. But for now, just leave all your stuff there." Brandy looked nervous. Her bag? Her money? Her cards? Her phone? She knew she couldn't take them out onto the floor with her. "Don't worry," soothed Lexi. "Nobody else is coming back here tonight. I'll lock the door when we're done in here. All your stuff is safe."

Brandy stepped behind a curtain and began to undress. Lexi snuck a peek just before her trial employee pulled on her tight orange shorts. Brandy was wearing a pair of frilly panties, and try as she might, Lexi couldn't see an outline of a penis. If Brandy was indeed male, she thought to herself, her cock must be microscopic.

Brandy emerged from the curtain wearing tonight's temporary uniform. Tight white tank top, tight cotton shorts, white cap and orange boots. "You look good," Lexi admitted, "even though underneath those clothes, I think you're really a boy." She wasn't sure what it was about Brandy that made her doubt her gender. Her tits were huge. If she really was male, then woah. She'd rarely seen tits that big even on women.

Brandy wasn't sure how to reply, and she wasn't sure what had aroused Lexi's suspicions in the first place. She genuinely wasn't sure how she felt anymore -- about her gender, but also about tonight. If Lexi had doubts, customers might too. She worried this might not be such a good idea after all. Maybe this wasn't the right move for her. Maybe she should leave.

Lexi's focus returned to the tasks Hooters girls performed. "You know how to take orders from customers?"

Brandy cast her momentary doubts aside. "I've never done it before, but I'm a fast learner."

"OK, so on a regular night I'd assign you five or six tables, but tonight, I'm giving you just one. You won't be as busy as the other girls, which means you can watch and learn from them. It also means you won't earn as much in tips as you might on a regular busy night, but everyone needs to start out slow, learning the rhythms and routines so they can build their confidence."

Brandy nodded. No different to any other job, really.

"OK, so here's how it works. You welcome your customers to your table and hand them menus -- one each, obviously -- and make them feel comfortable. Join them in small talk if they appear chatty -- most customers are. First up, ask them if they'd like something to drink. Take their order -- we're fully digital, but I'll give you a pad and a pen for tonight - then send it to the bar. When their drinks are ready to be served, bring them over and place them on the table. Your customers might be ready to order food now, because they've had a few minutes to look through the menu, and if they are, then again, take down their orders and send them to the kitchen. If they're not ready to order just yet, give them another two or three minutes to decide, then circle back."

To Brandy, everything so far sounded incredibly straightforward. She'd been to thousands of cafés, bars and restaurants in her life, and what Lexi was describing to her felt like the mirror image of every experience she could ever recall.

"When their meals are ready," Lexi continued, "collect them from the kitchen, bring them over and place each customer's plate on the table in front of them. Before you leave the kitchen area, make sure the meals that have been prepared match what the customers ordered. Ask your customers if they need anything else -- another round of drinks, or maybe some sauces, cheese, chilli, whatever. The bottom line is to make sure they're enjoying themselves. And maybe five or ten minutes into their meal, float back over to check that everything is OK."

Brandy nodded, eager now to get started.

"And, of course," Lexi grinned, "shake those moneymakers in their faces as often as you can."

Brandy cupped her jugs. "That's how we earn tips, right?"

"Yep. And if you don't mind me saying, Brandy, your tits are incredible. I might, in fact, be a little bit jealous." For now, Lexi was happy enough to accept Brandy as a woman. Her tits couldn't be denied. "Some of our Hooters Girls are quite well-endowed, but I think you're gonna make them feel jealous too."

"Thanks," Brandy whispered, not knowing what else to say. She grinned.

"OK, back to task," said Lexi. "Do you know much about how commercial kitchens work?"

Brandy frowned. "No, not really."

Lexi sighed. She glanced up the corridor towards the kitchen and dining area. "Maybe I shouldn't be letting you loose out there tonight," she said, almost to herself. "It's Friday night, we're gonna be busy, and we've got an ordering system which you won't understand."

"Yeah, but a pad and a pen will be all I'll need tonight, so long as that system works for the kitchen and the bar, and I'll only be working one table. Besides," said Brandy, "if you want me to come back again after tonight, I'm sure I'll pick the digital system up soon enough. Like I said earlier, I'm a fast learner. Anyway, I'm working just for tips tonight, so what's the risk?"

Lexi had the franchise's reputation to uphold. The risk was Brandy fucking something up and an angry customer uploading a negative review. She shrugged it off. "OK, let's go."

They emerged into the blinding white light of the dining area. Something about the way the room was lit reminded Brandy of the dream she had while napping earlier. She remembered fragments of how it felt to be on her knees in the middle of an athletic blowbang, with puddles of cum pooling on the floor. She felt her clitty stiffening underneath the tight fabric of her orange shorts.

Lexi introduced tonight's big-titted trial employee to the kitchen staff, and the momentary shards of Brandy's dream scattered. The kitchen staff nodded. They knew the drill. The orders tonight's newbie took wouldn't be coming in digitally. She'd write them down and bring them over, which created more work for them. They hoped, at least, that she had legible handwriting.

Brandy's eye landed on one of the kitchen staff. A tall guy with a long blonde mane tied back in a hairnet, a firm, chiselled jaw, a well-groomed beard, and a tattoo on the side of his neck. He looked muscly and confident, carrying himself like an aspiring musician who's trying to get his band off the ground. Brandy winked at him, and he smiled.

Lexi noticed where Brandy's gaze had landed. "No blowing the kitchen staff."

Brandy pouted in response.

Lexi led Brandy away from the kitchen and suggestively touched the corners of her mouth with a dainty fingertip. "He's got a nice cock and he knows how to use it. Most of our girls have hooked up with him, and I'll tell you the same thing I tell them: if you wanna fool around with him, do it away from work. Or maybe later tonight, after we've closed and everything is prepped for tomorrow."

Brandy nodded in understanding. For now, she put the mystery of the blonde dude's cock out of her mind. She was ready to go. She wiped a few beads of anxious sweat from her brow, hoping her makeup was still OK.

"So tonight, Brandy, you'll be looking after table five, over there by the window." It was vacant for the moment, but trade was beginning to pick up. The greeter welcomed a party of three -- all male -- and directed them to Brandy's table.

"Ready to go, Hooters Girl?" asked Lexi. "Here are your first customers."

Brandy took a deep breath and walked over to her allocated table. Lexi watched from the other side of the room as Brandy began to recite the opening intro she'd rehearsed in her mind. "Hi, I'm Brandy, and welcome to Hooters! I'll be your server tonight." She handed them menus, one each. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Three Budweisers," said Alejandro, studying the menu. He looked up at his server and nearly fainted. Fucking hell. It was the slutty Femboi Hooters girl from the speedway last weekend. She wasn't kidding. She really worked here, and now here he was, sitting at her table. He'd spent the week laden with Catholic guilt at having cheated on his wife with a Hooters girl who had a penis.

His brother was also busy studying the menu, trying to decide what he wanted to eat. A swift kick in the shins under the table diverted his attention, and as Miguel looked up to see who was waiting on him, he gulped. "Hola," he whispered, politely removing his sweaty cap.

Brandy's mind whirred back to her experience at the speedway last Saturday afternoon. She sat in the bleachers, hoping to pick up, but finding herself seated next to two sweaty, horny Mexicans made the task way too easy. She took them back to her apartment, and although they eventually discovered she was male, they were so horny for her it didn't even slow them down.

"Nice to see you again," said Brandy.

"Fucking hell," whispered Miguel. "It's you."

The third of the party of three picked up on a strange atmosphere. "Do you know her?" asked Wayne.

"Yeah, boss," replied Alejandro in a pained, strangled voice, "we met her once before. Just last weekend. At the speedway. She's into NASCAR. We met her at the race."

"Well, that's just mighty fine," smiled Wayne in his drawling Southern accent. He looked up at Brandy, hoping to make conversation. "Who's your favourite driver?"

If this was flirting, it wasn't the kind of flirting Brandy had expected tonight. Sure, she went to the race that day, but she knew next to nothing about NASCAR. "Umm, so I like... well, I don't know, I guess I like 'em all." She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, jiggling her tits.

"Ah," said Wayne, lifting his beer glass, "so she's a fan of motorsports in general! Well, I like that attitude. I like that a lot." He grinned at his employees, but their responses were subdued.

As far as Brandy was concerned, her get out of jail free card had been successfully played. "Do you boys know what you'd like to eat?" she asked.

The party of three replied, and she took their order over to the kitchen. "Hey," said Brandy, handing a piece of paper to the dude with the long blonde hair.

"Hey. I'm Leif. Nice to meet you. Never seen you before tonight."

"Nice to meet you too," smiled Brandy, blushing a little. Fuck, he was cute. "Here's the meal order for table five. I hope my handwriting is OK."

Leif concentrated hard. "Umm, one Texas melt, one Philly cheesesteak, and one buffalo chicken. Coming right up."

"Thanks," said Brandy. She cleared her throat. "How will I know when the order is ready? I'm not wired up, you see." She gestured to her lack of headset.

"Come back in ten," Leif smiled, "and it'll be ready."

Over at Brandy's table, conversation had nearly stopped. Neither of the Mexicans felt comfortable anymore, and neither knew how to explain why to their boss. Miguel and Alejandro sipped their beers edgily, while Wayne had no idea what was going on or why the mood around their table had changed. "What's up, fellas?" he asked.

The Mexicans didn't reply.

Brandy couldn't wait for them to eat up fast and fuck off quick. She knew she wasn't gonna receive a big tip from these guys. She cleared their table and wiped it down in readiness for the next party. Lexi noticed how awkward the entire interaction had been, though she wasn't across the background. She wondered if Brandy had said or done something to sour the mood. Maybe this wasn't gonna work out so well.

In a quiet corner of the room, Brandy took a deep, dejected sigh. That wasn't the start she'd hoped for.

"How are you travelling?"

She noticed Leif standing by her side. Even though his hair was still captive inside his hairnet, she knew how hot it'd be to see his thick mane cascading over his shoulders and down his back. She could smell him. He stank like deep fried foods, body odour, hard work, and sex. She wondered what his cock smelled like. "Yeah," replied Brandy, "I'm OK, I guess."

"Better luck next time." Leif wandered back towards his station in the kitchen.

Lexi accosted him. "Leave her alone, Leif."

As Brandy wandered back to her table, Leif played innocent. "But boss, I'm just trying to encourage her. Looked like that last table was a big miss, so I'm hoping she can turn things around."

Lexi narrowed her eyes. "You're so full of shit. You've seen how big her tits are, so now you wanna fuck her." She tapped an impatient foot on the floor. "You know I'm right, don't you, manslut?"

Leif let the slur slide by. "I work at Hooters, so I'm surrounded by huge racks all day, and after a while, a man kinda gets used to big shit, but fuck, boss, hers are... like they're..."

"I know," replied Lexi. "They're big. They're bigger than big. But it's Friday night, we're gonna be busy, so maybe just keep your mind on your workstation tonight. Leave her alone while she learns the ropes. Maybe you can play with her later."

Leif would've loved to show her some ropes. Or, at the very least, paint her tits with some. "I've been told my dick is big, but even so, I reckon it'd get lost in her cleavage."

Lexi's pussy began to tingle. There was nothing more dangerous than a sexy dude with a big cock who knew he had a reputation. She walked away before she said anything else. She was about to lock the office door and rub one out when her thoughts were interrupted.

"Hey Lexi," said Brandy, "can I talk to you for a quick second?"

"If it's quick." Lexi tapped her foot again. "You need to clean your table before your next guests arrive."

"Yeah, I know, but first... like... I knew those guys."

"Huh?"

Brandy's words came in short bursts. "Those guys. At my table. Two of them. The Mexicans. Brothers. Not the other guy. Their boss, I think. So... we... uhh... we had sex last weekend, so I guess they were... I guess that's why they were so quiet... so, like, there was no small talk or flirting or... I'm sure it looked weird to you..."

"Why are you telling me this, Brandy?"

"Because I guess you're probably watching me to see how I do, and if you are, can I have a do over? Because that was just too fucking weird for words."

If Brandy really was a boy, she sure didn't carry herself like one. "Of course," Lexi smiled.

Brandy entertained four other parties at her table that night, and while the evening's experience wasn't exactly what she'd hoped for, she was at least able to respond to a few shallow flirts. At the end of the night, Lexi presented her with $200 in bills. "Thanks," she said. "Are these my tips?"

"Yeah. The Mexicans left twenty bucks. Stingy cunts."

"Yeah, but I told you about them. Twenty bucks is better than the zero I expected. Anyway, thanks," Brandy said, accepting the cash. "But is this what you'd expect? Like, I don't really know what I did to earn this money. I felt nervous all night."

"Let's say it's better than I expected for a newbie," explained Lexi, "but it's probably less than a regular Hooters girl would expect to make. I'm guessing people were tipping your tits."

Brandy didn't reply.

"Part of this job is food and beverage service, part of it is entertainment, and part of it is being objectified."

Again, Brandy said nothing.

"How do you think tonight went for you?"

"Not sure. OK, I guess."

"Do you want an employment contract?"

"If you're offering, then yeah," Brandy smiled. "I don't think I mind being objectified."

"That's the spirit," grinned Lexi. "Swing by on Sunday afternoon with a pen."

"Am I done for the night?" asked Brandy.

Her table was clean, ready to go for tomorrow. "Yeah, you're done. Go get your stuff from the office and get changed back into your civvies." Lexi reached into her pocket. "Here's the key."

Brandy walked down the corridor towards the back office where she'd left her things. Her handbag, phone, keys and everything else were untouched. She changed back into Jessica's clothes, but she couldn't be fucked putting a bra back on. Her rack floated free inside her black t-shirt. As she began to walk back down the corridor back towards the dining area, she saw a frame casting an uneasy shadow. "Hey," said Leif.

"Hey," replied Brandy.

"You busy after work? I know a place. Let's get a drink."

Brandy cleared her throat. She was stunned by his rugged masculine beauty, and if her Thai trans girl wasn't part of her life, she would've accepted his offer in a heartbeat, but tonight, she had somewhere else to be. Her footsteps pulled up at the end of the corridor, adjacent to where Leif stood.

Leif jiggled his dick inside his pants. "I know it's your first night here, so maybe you haven't heard yet."

Lexi had given Brandy the inside oil on what to do if a customer got out of line, but she'd said nothing about co-workers who overstepped. She wasn't sure what to say. She shuffled her feet. He seemed arrogant, but he was sexy as fuck, and a sweet, sticky load of cum would've been the perfect way to end her first shift as a Hooters Girl.

"I'm Leif. I introduced myself before, but I don't know your name. You were wearing a nametag that said 'Trainee', but I'm guessing that's not your real name."

"I'm Brandy," she said. "And stop touching your dick in your pants, dude. It's unbecoming."

Leif smirked. "OK, so you want me to pull it out and touch it, is that what you're saying?"

Brandy rolled her eyes.

Leif's hands rested by his sides now. "Brandy? Is that what you said your name is? You mean, like the drink?"

"Duh," Brandy deadpanned. This guy might have a big toy to play with, but he didn't seem like much of a conversationalist. She decided to cut to the chase. "Look, it's late, and I've got somewhere else to be. So do you want me to blow you or not?"

As if Leif was gonna turn her offer down. "Sure." Leif unzipped and flopped it out. Even flaccid, it was big enough.

"Dude, we're still inside the restaurant!" Brandy protested. She stared at his cock. Her mouth was watering.

"Here's as good as anywhere else," Leif replied, flopping it around with his hand. "By the way, I was watching you tonight. You've got the biggest tits I've ever seen here. I mean, Lexi is truly blessed, but yours are huge."

Brandy pretended to be bored, but she couldn't deny how much she wanted a dick in her mouth right now. "Yeah, I know, whatever. So are you gonna talk shit all night, or are you gonna fuck my face?"

Leif decided to try his luck. "Can I fuck your titties instead?"

Brandy jiggled on the balls of her feet, making her gigantic, perky tits bounce. "Nup. You can have my mouth, but not these."

"Holy shit," he whispered, eyes wide open. "They're so fucking big." His cock went from flaccid to erect in a matter of seconds.

"I really think we need to go outside for this," said Brandy. "Besides, everything's prepped for tomorrow. Tonight was my first night and I don't wanna get fired." She remembered Lexi's advice from earlier.

"Come with me," said Leif, and she followed him to a dark corner at the back of the building.

She kneeled in front of him on jagged concrete and looked up at him. Streetlights were distant; it was dark, but there was enough light for her to work with. Brandy unbuckled his belt and hauled his pants down. She cupped his hairy balls and gave them a little squeeze. "You like that?"

"Yeah," whispered Leif.

Brandy impaled her face on Leif's shaft, gagging. He smelled like sweat and masculinity. She stroked him with one hand and jiggled his balls with the other. "I'm gonna make you cum so fucking fast you'll see stars dancing in front of your eyes." She heard him moaning. She wrapped her tongue around the head of his cock as her fist pistoned up and down the length of his shaft. His pubes tickled her nose.

Brandy had never met this guy before, but she decided to test his limits. She reached around behind him and began kneading his ass cheeks. She felt his cock stiffen just a little bit more. Taking a chance, she prised his cheeks apart and rubbed a wet fingertip over his anus.

"Fuck yeah," he seethed. "Stick it in." And as Brandy forced her finger inside Leif's asshole and found his prostate, his knees trembled as he flooded her mouth. He moaned like a bitch as his dick twitched and spasmed. He felt her throat muscles gulping his load down, and her cheeks sucking his shaft hard, wanting to get every single drop.

It was a miracle Leif's knees didn't give way completely. Whoever this new chick was -- what was her name again? -- she clearly knew her way around a dick.

Brandy stood up. "Thanks, big boy," she said, kissing him on the cheek and pressing her tits up against his chest. "You wanna cop a feel before I hit the road? I'm not wearing a bra."

Leif was still recovering from what might've been the best blowjob of his life. His hands reached out gingerly to touch her full, juicy, supple breasts. "Fuck, your tits are... like... they're fucking unbelievable." He took the liberty of squeezing a nipple.

"I know they are," she whispered. "And you're a cocky little prick, aren't you?" She licked his face with her cum-stained tongue as she squeezed his spent testicles one last time.

Leif gulped. He'd never come across a woman quite like Brandy ever before. He felt her warm breath on his face.

"Well, I need to hit the road. Gonna hang out with my girlfriend tonight."

Leif's mind exploded. She's a lesbian? He just got the best blowjob of his life from a lesbian? This made no sense at all. "Wait, so... hang on... you're...?"

How little he knew.

"See ya," said Brandy, waggling her painted black fingernails in a wave. She walked towards her car, leaving a stunned, speechless Leif in her wake.