33 comments/ 149307 views/ 158 favorites Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 01 By: DocCIS As Dan got into his car following his business-dinner meeting that evening, he realized the day could not get any worse, glad it was almost over. It all began with him getting into a fight with his fiancée Jenny in the morning, steadily going downhill until ending with this last meeting...with almost 12 hours of pure Hell in between. Short of getting into a car accident while he went to pick Jenny up from work, he could not imagine much else ruining his day. This morning's fight was a continuation of the same argument they always had—him disapproving of Jenny's job. It was not the idea of her having to work which bothered him. Due to their current economic situation from his commercial real estate business declining, they both had to work to pay the bills, as well as trying to save up enough for their wedding in a couple weeks. Even with their combined income, they barely made ends meet, and Dan kept hoping he would make a big sale with a sizeable commission so Jen could quit and have time to find another job. Unfortunately Jenny only had a high school diploma, so jobs were extremely limited. She had tried a few odd jobs as a store clerk and waitressing, but the combination of a poor economy and high school kids being cheaper to pay for such jobs, she had hit a dry spell in terms of employment. The only commodity in her favor was her looks—Jenny was a stunning 5'10' long-haired brunette with a killer 36D-24-34 body. She was the type of girl men not only took double-takes at when walking down the street, but downright stopped in their tracks and stared. She had been told she looked a twin for the Hungarian model Adrienn Levai, and after looking the name up on the Internet both her and Dan agreed they could be sisters. As her good looks and body were her main assets, she had to go with where the work took her. This was nothing new for Jenny, as she had always relied on her looks in life. Early in high-school she discovered a pout here, a little cleavage there, in combination with a short skirt could sway even the most steadfast of male and even some female teachers to look the other way—or in this case her way—when it came to ignoring missing assignments or getting passing grades. Jenny had confided to Dan she loved the attention. Although deeply in love and devoted to Dan, there was something nice for a woman to know she was desired even when she was 'off the market' being engaged to him. As Dan drove and stewed over their argument that morning, he remembered how the job had started out as a simple cocktail waitressing position at one of the local nightclubs. He had not liked the job even then, as the waitress' outfits left little to the imagination. Each week the 'uniforms' alternated to different themes ranging from 'racing uniforms' consisting of little more than extremely tight and short hot-pants and low-cut halters with checkered patterns to naughty 'school girl' outfits to more revealing themes of 'bikini' and 'lingerie' nights. When Jen had first started the job, although revealing, the uniforms were tastefully done; however, as ownership of the club changed hands like money through a slot machine, each owner modified the club to try and make more money. As a result, the outfits became more sleazy and revealing, although the 'theme night' concept was kept throughout. Ultimately within a 2-year span the club transitioned from a bar with hot waitresses, to a go-go club with scantily clothed women dancing in cages, to its current state as a strip club. ******************** The day started off with him driving to work, not paying attention to his driving. Instead, Dan's mind recalled when Jen's career took a change for the worst in his mind. It was a busy weekend night, the club having a full house of customers due to a convention in town; however, a flu epidemic going around had many of the dancers calling in sick. The then-owner had pleaded with the waitressing staff to dance, offering them double their pay to fill in. The offer had come at a crucial time when Jen and Dan were hard-pressed for cash, having just bought both a house and car. Jenny immediately volunteered to earn some extra cash. Having worked at the club for over a year, she was comfortable with the revealing outfits, so stripping was almost a logical next step. Jen had previously taken pole dancing classes for exercise, and she turned out to be a natural stripper. Dan almost wished Jen was bad at her job; however, she was an exceptional dancer. The combination of being in great physical shape and having experience 'on the pole' made her a damn good stripper. She was like a gymnast on the stage, working the pole so well during her routines she drew the most tips of all the girls on stage. Unfortunately for them, the money was also good. So good in fact when the full staff had returned, Jen accepted a 'promotion' as a full-time dancer, hanging up her skimpy cocktail uniforms for something even more revealing. It was psychologically emasculating to Dan, knowing she had done it to help their income. Although Jen may have been comfortable showing off her body, Dan was not; he hated her on display to the world. The idea of his fiancée showing off her body to a group of strangers, gyrating seductively before them like a craving sex goddess nagged at him like a festering wound. He prayed every day for the real estate business to pick up again so she no longer had to 'sell her body' for money. Dan's attention was so focused on the past, he never saw the stoplight he ran through until the siren and blinking lights of the police car behind him broke him from his reverie. With the day starting off as shit, the trend continued as 20 minutes later he pulled back onto the road with a ticket, knowing he would now be late for work. The day was just getting better and better he realized sarcastically, his mind again drifting back to the argument at breakfast with Jen... It was not that he did not trust her; Jen believed in full disclosure, telling him about every grab, copping of a feel, and stray hand she encountered each shift. In fact, she had worked out a deal where he had access to the club's security room whenever he visited the club during her shift to prove nothing untoward happened. The current rendition of the club was well-run, having installed security cameras in each private room to make sure things did not get out of hand in terms of the girls doing what they wanted to do, not the customer. It had been a good investment as some customers had found out the hard way, thinking they could have their way with some of the girls like Jenny who did not 'turn tricks' suddenly finding themselves on the wrong end of the two bouncers at the club—Brutus (I shit you not his real name) and Gregg. And the club treated the girls well, not just from the aspect of having good security, but allowing the girls to do what they wanted and not pressuring them into anything they felt uncomfortable doing. While some girls danced and revealed nothing more than pasty-covered breasts and thongs, others if they chose could dance topless, and even a few did full nudity dancing. As long as there was no overt 'touching' in the public area, the city zoning allowed it. The private rooms were for more intimate contact, and some girls went the 'extra mile' selling sex on the side for spare income. The owner was fully aware of what went on; as long as things were kept out of the public, the police left them alone. He let the girls decide what they wanted out of the job. Sex was part of the mystique of a strip club Dan understood, even if the club was decent, sex permeated the air. Ranging from the innocent seduction of girls on stage to some 'turning tricks' on the side, Dan hated what the club stood for and particularly hated Jen working there. The fight this morning was more of the same argument they had been having for a year now, but much worse. Jenny had come downstairs looking outstanding, wearing a tight white leather bustier tied up the front, exposing not only her cleavage, but three-quarters of her breasts and the front of her body. The other half of the outfit was a matching pair of tight leather hot pants with zippers up the sides for removal during her dance routines. Completing whole ensemble she had on a pair of thigh-high red leather boots with 7" platform heels that accentuated her long legs and muscular thighs and ass beautifully. Dan could not deny she looked incredible and would not have minded taking her right then and there on the kitchen table, but the overlying knowledge she was dressed for work and not him rubbed the wrong way that morning. It was not the actual outfit, as Jenny let Dan pick all her clothes so nothing was hidden between them, no it was a combination of the stress of unpaid bills mixed with the fact of his woman having to earn extra money for those bills by displaying her body to strangers which hit him harder than usual. The result was him being snappy and rude, almost demanding she quit her job on the spot. The repeating arguments were always the same, like looped recording. Yes, they needed the money. Yes, on good weeks she earned more than Dan could with his steady income. Yes, if she quit they would has to sell their new and only car and lose the mortgage on the new house and be forced to rent a shitty apartment. Yes, with her working and bringing in an additional paycheck they were actually saving money, even in this economy allowing them to have some of their wedding already paid off. Dan could not deny any of these facts, but the Cro-Magnon in him wanted his woman home and only to himself, not publicly on display and showing her body to other horny guys, and he pretty much said as much, refusing to budge in his thinking. They both ended up stomping out of the house not speaking to each other. Jen had been so pissed she even declined him taking her to the club to practice for the night on his way to work, instead putting on a long coat and taking a cab. Driving to work alone only gave him the opportunity to stew about the argument more, making him angrier each second at both the situation and himself. The traffic ticket only added fuel to the fire of his foul mood. The rest of the day only got worse. Due to the time taken for the ticket, he was late to work. Every time he went to the office kitchen for coffee he had found both pots empty, cursing people who emptied them and not making more. Then he had several potential purchases fall through on properties he was showing. Throughout the day Jen had not answered or returned any of his messages other than to reply to one text message telling her he would be able to pick her up after her shift with a brief "K" in response. He knew her reply was not an indication of her giving in; only accepting the fact taking a cab hurt their budget too much—pissing him off even further at their predicament and his own self-loathing. Then his boss had called an impromptu meeting. Dan's company was suffering from the failed real estate economy and during the meeting his boss told all of the sales people if they could not meet their quota for the end of the month, he would have to consider laying people off. Dan was not the worst salesman there; however, he had been in a slump this entire last quarter, the failed economy not helping the downward spiral his commissions had taken. The announcement caused the competition amongst the sales staff—already rough to begin with—to become relentless. By lunch Dan discovered two of his assigned properties had been 'sniped' from underneath him by other agents in the office immediately after the meeting, guaranteeing them their monthly quota. Although there was no written rule when a property was assigned to an agent and another agent made the sale, it was common courtesy to at least include the assigned broker, even if they were not the one who made the sale, as the assigned broker was the one in charge of the listings and property surveys. This split the commissions between the two agents and was common practice. With the announcement by their boss, that etiquette was out the window, and the sales staff was scrambling to sell any property for the full commission, assigned broker be damned. That left Dan with only three high valued properties 'assigned' to him; however, knowing that meant nothing as the last two closings had proven, and it being past the middle of the month, the competition to sell them would only get worse. Making his mood even sourer was the knowledge one of the properties on his list was the club Jenny danced. She had not said anything, so Dan knew she was probably unaware their club was up for yet another ownership turnover. He did not want to depress her, as it meant a temporary income drop. Whenever the club changed hands, it typically went through a renovation period while the new owner met with all the girls, fired and hired ones he wanted, restructured the operations of the club functions, and redesigned the place, sometimes even renaming it. The end result meant a month or more of the club being closed and no income. With Jenny's looks and talent dancing, she would never get fired; however, the transition period still meant no pay for the interim. Some of the girls did odd jobs at bachelor parties and such to make some cash; however, with Dan's job they had enough weather such difficulties. Even so, Dan knew they would have to tap into their wedding money savings to pay bills, probably further extending the date. With this knowledge, but unwilling to tell Jen the cause of his anxiety in the hopes he sold another property beforehand, he had suggested seeing a Justice of the Peace and getting married in a courtroom; however, Jenny was old-fashioned in this regard and wanted a full wedding. Not to deny her anything, Dan agreed, although their pocketbook definitely could not stand the hit. It was this underlying knowledge that had caused him to start the argument earlier in the morning. Up until now, they were able to afford the modest reception hall and caterers and involved with the wedding plans and pay bills, but with the looming possibility of Jenny's income taking a hit, it put everything into question and increasing his concerns. Jenny's job was not a stable enough income to support them. It was too variable depending on way too many factors such as ongoing conventions in town and even weather to fill the club up. It was not something you staked your income on and although she definitely earned money to help them, it was too unpredictable to rely upon for long. If he lost his job in commercial real estate at this point in the economy, they would be unable to rely on her for their sole income. His bitter mood was further exacerbated planning a meeting with a perspective buyer of the club later that day. After the meeting with his boss, he checked his e-mail to find the investigative report his company did for every perspective buyer. Getting the report was expected; however, he had to skip lunch in order to further plan for the meeting. The company was actually interested in two of Dan's assigned properties, Jenny's club and another nightclub in the city, which in and of itself would be a tremendous commission if they bought both. Yet Dan's heart sank as he read the report, unveiling the company as a sleazy adult entertainment business. The company's modus operandi was always that of most franchised enterprises—they bought well-established clubs, modernized them, cleaned them up, hired extremely good looking women, and reopened the properties up as top-dollar strip clubs. Reading the history of past purchases and financial records, profits typically hit the roof for every club the company purchased. Even older clubs did extremely well, as the company often set up 'touring' trips for some dancers, sending them to other clubs they owned and paying for all travel expenses. This kept the clubs 'new and fresh' with girls for recurring patrons. It was a good model of operation, but that was just the public facing side of the company. The investigation report—usually conducted to verify the validity of interested companies, as commercial sales were quite expensive—found the company had two sides. The darker side of the investigation revealed rumors the girls who danced for the company's clubs often served as high-paid escorts; many also starring in pornography films also produced by the company. It was rumored most contracts the girls had to sign to work at a purchased club included clauses requiring 'extraneous activities' to work for the firm. The contracts never blatantly stated girls were required to do more than dance—the company had some slick lawyers to keep the verbiage discrete—but due to what apparently occurred, the company had several federal investigations ongoing. There had never been sufficient evidence to warrant any legal repercussions for the various allegations of prostitution or other illegal sexual activities, so on the surface the company looked reputable and Dan had no valid reason to not sell the property other than personal ones. Based on what he read and knowing the area, Dan was fairly confident the company would buy at least one, if not both clubs on his list; however, the possibility of having a commission coming soon only made him more depressed. Based upon the investigative report, he knew Jenny would no longer be working at her club if purchased when he told her of the report, and the loss of income and job would only upset her. As pissy as she had been this morning, he would not be surprised if she accused him of purposely brokering the sale to stop her from dancing! "Women," he muttered under his breath, knowing the futility of the future argument after reading the report. Selling one property would be nice, but if it was the club Jenny worked the loss of income would further damage their already straining relationship. The commission on one property would give some breathing room, but it was not an ideal situation. On the other hand, selling both properties would not only provide income during the interim of her losing her job, but enough to allow them with money continue with the wedding plans. In fact, as Dan thought about it, his mood began to improve as he realized selling both clubs it would be a double-win. Jenny would lose her job yes, but she had already promised once they were married she would stop dancing and go back to school for a better job. It gave him more incentive to try and convince the company of buying both clubs as they could continue with their wedding plans and she could start school. In addition, selling both clubs would take the target off his back from his boss' firing gun. For the first time today—or even this week—Dan's attitude improved as he prepared to meet with one of the representatives of the prospective buyer—Divine Silk Attractions, Inc. in the afternoon. His relief and outlook were short-lived though, as keeping with the theme on the earlier part of the day, the company's representative called and cancelled their afternoon appointment, explaining their CEO was in town and they were tied up with meetings with them all day. Dan was then visited by his boss who wanted to talk to Dan about his decline in sales, stressing the importance of Dan making a sale this month. Once again he became depressed, thinking about his own possible short-term employment, dwelling on money issues. Feeling the pressure, Dan had called back and after talking to several people, finally got the meeting rescheduled as a business dinner that night for the perspective buyers. In addition, another boon was given to him as he was told he would not be meeting with the initial representative, but with the CEO of the company himself, so all was not lost. It was a bonus as Dan did not have to go through a 'middle man' and could give his selling pitch directly to the person who would be making the decision on buying the properties. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 01 Things were lining up in place as the dinner was scheduled for 7:00 PM and Jenny's shift did not end until midnight. He had plenty of time to meet and greet the perspective buyers and pick her up after her shift. Yet once again Fate intervened and the day continued its downhill spiral when Dan went to get in his car for the meeting and found he had a flat tire. After replacing it and getting in his car, he realized he missed the window of opportunity for getting to the restaurant before rush hour and as such ended up sitting in traffic for over 45 minutes to go the 10 miles down the road to the restaurant. It would have been faster to walk or even take a bus; however, as he was picking Jenny up from work afterwards, he was locked into driving. He called the company to notify them of him being late, knowing it would not go over well—promptness was a key feature many buyers relied upon and they could easily get another broker for the purchase. Dan felt his career dangling by a thread. Still, he knew the properties, and after reading the research report, had no doubt he could sell at least one of them as long as he did not fuck up anything further. Sitting in traffic did little to improve his disposition. His mood continued to plummet as he arrived at the high-classed restaurant the buyer had suggested, finding no public parking available. As he paid the exuberant price of valet service, he recognized it would be an expensive night. As the broker of the sale, it was proper decorum for him to foot the bill for pre-sale dinners or other entertainments for clients; however, his company did not reimburse expenses expecting such costs to come out of commissions. Dan knew without a doubt this dinner was going to set their income back a good penny unless he could make a sale quickly. Giving his name to the maître d' he was not surprised to discover the customer had already arrived and was directed to the lounge where they were awaiting him. Hoping the customer was not a big drinker—which would increase the tab exponentially—Dan made his way into the lounge. He had never met the initial representative of the company let alone the CEO, so he was uncertain how he was supposed to recognize them when a surprised voice to his left caught his attention. "Holy shit! Is that you 3-D? Holy fuck, are you the broker I'm meeting?" said a frighteningly-too-familiar voice. At the very sound of the voice Dan felt his anus clench and his balls tuck involuntarily between his legs in fear and anger as he looked over at the speaker, dreading who he was going to see. Putting on his 'happy face,' Dan replied, "Damn Chuck, never expected to see you in this neck of the woods. And what are you talking about broker; YOU are the representative of DSA?" Dan said in surprise. The day could not have gotten any worse as it hit rock-bottom, Dan gazing upon the dreaded face of his rival and nemesis, Charles DeWight III while his mind performed Vietnam flashbacks in his head... Dan had known Charles—or Chuck as he preferred people call him—since elementary school. Chuck was the neighborhood bully, and Dan was his favorite release of aggression. Chuck was not the type to beat him up though, he actually in some sick and twisted way considered Dan a friend; however, it was a warped friendship. Chuck was always belittling Dan, giving him degrading nicknames, making him feel crappy about himself, and so forth. His favorite nickname for Dan was '3-D' which seemed innocent enough unless you knew it actually stood for 'dinky dicked Dan' as even anatomically Chuck out-did him, being a typical linebacker build and hung like a horse. Chuck was the type who excelled at everything he did, always out performing Dan in any sports events they were in together or getting better grades in school, always beating Dan in anything he tried. Dan hated being around him, even though the guy was nice to him in his own fashion. Chuck never teased Dan for outdoing him, it was just the fact that he always did. When the DeWights moved away Dan's freshman year of high school, he realized how much he had truly despised Chuck as high school became one of the happiest times in Dan's life. Until his absence, Dan had not realized how miserable he had been around Chuck. Not only was his true rival gone, but high school was where he met Jenny, and Dan had felt his life was on an upswing. The good times were short-lived though as after graduating high school Jenny had broken off their relationship. It was not on any lack of emotion on her part, instead telling him he needed to 'sow his oats' and wanting him to enjoy his college years without her strapped to his ankle. She promised she would wait for him and if things worked out between them, it was meant to be and if not, she would truly miss him. Moving away from his family was depressing enough even without the pre-arranged break-up with Jenny, and Dan had little to look forward to in college. And then the other shoe dropped as he had run into Chuck at freshman orientation, finding out they were both attending the same school as all of Dan's previous childhood trauma returned. And then Chuck insisted they room together... His traumatized psyche was not disappointed in its trepidation, as Chuck enrolled in many of the same business classes Dan was in, getting better grades, being the professors' pets, and naturally being better than Dan as if there had been no break in the past four years. It was not just school work which Chuck and Dan interacted; as they were now older, Chuck became a true nemesis even in social circles. Male friends enjoyed being around him more, inviting him to all the 'cool' parties while Dan always attended as Chuck's 'guest' while any girl Dan tried to form an interest in always ended up on Chuck's bed. Dan once compared their relationship as if Dan were the salad before the main course of steak and lobster. The problem was not that Chuck did not like Dan—he considered Dan one of his true friends. The problem was his competitive nature and ego always placing him first, and he was oblivious towards anybody else's feelings. Dan was Chuck's shadow; however, Chuck did not do it because he was mean, it was simply his nature to excel, which made things even worse for Dan. At the end of their freshman year Chuck talked them into pledging to a fraternity, and Dan realized he had only been in Purgatory, and true Hell began. Chuck was made Pledge President, was hazed the least as he was well-liked by all the brothers, and became an all-around good guy. Dan on the other hand would not have even made it into the fraternity if he were not Chuck's friend. He was hazed the most and even his own pledge brothers—including Chuck—seemed to disassociate him from the rest of the group. Life continued its downward spiral as Chuck insisted each year they continue as roommates. Dan could not count the times he would meet a girl he was attracted to, only to come back one evening and find her in bed with Chuck. Even financially Chuck was a golden child, having never had to worry about money as his family was extremely well-off, while Dan struggled through two jobs to pay his tuition, which his parents could not fully afford. Graduating college was a relief as Chuck moved to New York, once again the absence of him causing Dan to realize how much he could not stand being around him. He once again entered a more happier time in his life as he got a job, got back together with Jenny, and they began to plan a life together. All this flashed before him as he broke into a false smile and shook his nemesis' hands. "Well I'll be damned," Chuck said. "I saw the last name on the real estate sheet, but never realized it was actually you I'd be meeting. Small world, eh?" he said, genuinely glad to see Dan. Dan grunted affirmative as he flagged the maître d' to seat them while Chuck talked about the past couple years since they had graduated. Dan felt his confidence shrinking along with his testicles as he once again played second-fiddle to his rival in the conversation throughout the dinner. As typical, Chuck dominated the conversation, even when Dan talked about himself. Chuck's family had made it big in the adult industry business, and Dan was not surprised when he found out Divine Silk Attractions, Inc. was now owned and operated by Chuck. Earning a living selling sleaze did not surprise him as Chuck talked about all his holdings, various houses, and other branches of the industry. That he had been so successful did not surprise Dan, who realized knowing what he did about the company and Chuck's natural gift of doing anything perfectly was why he could get away with selling sleaze without any legal repercussions. "So tell me, besides becoming a real estate broker, what you been doin' these past few years? Figured you'd be settled down with that old flame of yours...what was her name, Jodie?" he asked. "Jenny," Dan corrected as he continued. "Yeah, her, so did you guys ever hook up?" he asked. At Dan's nod, he smiled, "Good to hear, good to hear, so what's the little lady do while you work hard to bring home the bacon?" he asked. Familiar with Chuck's narcissism, Dan knew Chuck was only asking to be polite. Chuck philosophy on women was they good for one thing, on their backs—once again explaining how he ended up in the adult entertainment industry. With Chuck being the perspective buyer of the club Jenny worked at, Dan tried to steer away from the topic, "She does alright as a waitress, enough to help keep us out of debt," he said. Dan realized even what little he said was too much information as Chuck immediately asked "You hurting for money? Hell bud, just say the word and I can hook you and the little lady up! It's the least I could do for a friend," he said. And that was the most annoying thing about Chuck. He never did anything with malice; he just was always better; always willing to give a hand while the good deeds hit Dan's palate like sour lemons. Being around him made Dan feel like Robin next to Batman, always the side-kick and not the main man, knowing the last thing he needed was to be indebted to him as he politely declined. Finally around desert—leave it to Chuck to eat a five course meal and then tack on desert and drinks—the conversation turned to talking about business. As with everything else, Chuck dominated the conversation. "Knowing you're the broker for these two clubs, I'm not even going to worry about reading all the paperwork, you always put in your due diligence. Besides, I've actually already done my homework and both clubs are perfect investments, so consider this a done deal," he said, happily. "I've spent some time at both clubs, talked to the staff and such, and both will be perfect expansions to our business," he said. "Hell, even the girls at both places are hot enough there will probably be little turnover in the staff once we take control," he grinned. Dan grimaced at the knowledge of Chuck visiting the clubs, wondering if he had told any of the staff he was buying them or not. Chuck had never met Jenny, and she had not said anything about the club changing ownership, so Chuck may have visited just as a customer to scout the place out. The thought of Chuck seeing Jenny bothered him. Although they had never met, Chuck's taste in women paralleled Dan's exactly, still, Jenny and him were engaged, so it was not like anything would happen. He realized Jenny may not have said anything to him as like him, she may not have wanted Dan to worry about a change in ownership. Money had been on both their minds a lot lately, and it was the reason he had not told her the club was on the market in the first place; if she knew, he was not the one to cast the first stone. His musings were interrupted as Chuck continued, "In fact, I'm going to visit them both again tonight," he said with a leer. "Would you care to join me? I figured I would hit the Slithering Lizard—that name HAS to change by the way," he grimaced before continuing. "But I'll be hitting the Satin Kitty sometime after midnight. You interested in some old-fashion hound dogging?" he asked. "Hell, as future owner just pick a dancer and I can have her keep a smile on your face all night. It'll be like old times!" he said. 'Old times' in Dan's book was watching Chuck get lucky with a hot chick and then go to some corner to bang her while he sat there like a fool. Chuck was being Chuck, but Dan wanted to get Jenny away from work as quick as possible hearing Chuck would be showing up at her quitting time, again the idea of him being around her making Dan's skin crawl as he politely declined. "Nah, maybe some other time, I need to pick the little lady up from work." Dan told him. Chuck seemed genuinely upset at Dan's refusal, but reassured him his lawyers would have all the paperwork for the clubs in Dan's office by the end of the week, so Dan quickly said goodbye, promising to meet up with Chuck in the future as he left the restaurant. Chuck told him they needed to get together so he could "meet the little lady" but the last thing Dan wanted was to introduce Jen to Chuck, particularly if he had already met her at the club. As Dan left the restaurant, he had a bad taste in his mouth. It was yet another Catch-22 situation. Dan had made the sale, but it did not give him the victory other sales had given, being almost a handout from his old rival. Chuck had not even argued the price, saying Dan deserved the commission, seemingly buying the clubs almost as a favor to Dan. Dan definitely needed to talk to Jenny when they got home about what the club was going to turn into so she could start planning on quitting and going back to school for a job hopefully more standard for the woman he was going to marry. No, after Dan got his car from the valet and headed to the club, he realized the night could not get any worse. Fighting with Jenny, the prospect of losing his job, the sweet and sour taste of making the sale but seeing his rival, Dan just wanted to take Jenny home, apologize, and spend the rest of the night spooning with her in bed. ******************** When Dan got to the club, Brutus let him in without the cover, a simple nod acknowledging his presence. The entire club knew Dan, and he started to feel a bit better as he walked into the dark club. His bones throbbed as the speakers played Ke$ha's 'Take it Off', rather appropriate for the club Dan thought. Looking at the stage he saw Fox, aka Janice, one of Jenny's friends and fellow dancers on the stage. He found it somewhat funny at the stage names the girls chose. Jenny's stage name was Diamond, most of the girls choosing gems or animals for their names. His attention on the stage was interrupted as a hand lay on his shoulder. "Oh God Dan you could not have come at a better time, Mary and I both need a break. Would you mind acting the big spender and give us a bit of time off our feet?" the gorgeous blonde who had grabbed his shoulder—Crystal, aka Denise—asked. Dan grinned in reply. One of the perks being the significant other of one of the dancers was he was considered 'safe territory' for the girls to occasionally give their attention towards when they needed a break. This way they could still 'work the floor' but take a reprieve and look busy for show. "How could I turn down two beautiful women asking to be saved," he chuckled to them over the din of the music to their amusement. Dan, like any male, overtly flirted with the girls, to their delight and fun. Waving over to the bartender John, Dan held up 3 fingers pointing to Mary and Denise—or Kitten and Crystal he reminded himself—and led them to an empty booth after seeing the bartender's nod. The loveseat-like booth was near the stage, and taking each girl in his arm guided them to their seats as they looked towards the stage. Fox was just finishing her set as he and the girls did their best to applaud and get the crowd going. The girls always tried to help each other out, applauding loudly and letting the other girls on stage get the attention they deserved. The significant others of all the dancers did the same, as it was common courtesy to help them out with their set as much as possible, sort of 'seeding' the crowd. One of the waitresses brought them over their drinks—Dan a Miller Lite and the girls either pure water or watered down gin and tonics. Dan knew he was a true 'regular' when he did not even have to say what drink to order. The girls typically drank nothing alcoholic to keep their wits about them—nothing worse than a girl drunk dancing on stage in 6-inch heels he grinned to himself. "Surprised to see you here tonight Dan," the waitress Gene, told him. "Jen's been on the warpath all night, what the fuck did you piss her off about this time?" she asked as he slipped her a five dollar bill. Being one of the dancers' boyfriends he got his drinks for free, but like most of the other guys still tipped the girls, knowing they were making a living just like their other halves. Shouting over the intermission music—Juelz Santana's 'Oh Yes'—he watched abstractedly while Fox collected her money and wiped the pole and stage down for the next dancer. "Same shit," he muttered to all the girls as they looked at him. "You know I don't like her working here, and today I was the typical dumb fuck guy and put my foot in my mouth," he admitted. Mary took a sip of her drink. "Someday you men will learn to keep your thoughts to yourself and get rid of all the macho bullshit," she said to him. "You know damn well asking her to stop is like telling a kid in a store not to touch anything, they're going to purposely do it to prove a point. Once the wedding's over I'm sure she'll tone it down, but hell, let the girl do something she enjoys," she said. Dan just nodded in agreement, knowing she was right. As much as it galled him, he just needed to let time handle it. It was a testament to how often this argument came about that all the girls knew about it as well while Dan sipped his drink. As if the thought of her was here queue, the other half of the conversation came out the side of the stage, Fox having picked up the tips and leaving. The DJ's voice came over the speakers, "And now, everybody give it up for Diamond!" he said as Jen strutted on stage. "Fuck Dan," Denise said beside him, "I'm going to have to take you shopping with me. Jen told us you picked out her outfit and damned if you don't have good taste," she laughed. Dan grinned, but didn't reply, as all his attention was focused on the love of his life. As if feeling his stare, Jen glanced over at him and if looks could kill, Dan knew his testicles would be solid ice as Jen looked away and spun around the pole as her first song, Evanescence's 'Tourniquet' started playing. "Oh shit," Dan muttered as the girls nodded sagely. Jen only played hard rock songs when she was working to burn off a good mad, so Dan knew he was in deeper than he originally thought as his fiancée started climbing up the pole seductively. As much as he hated Jen stripping, he had to admit she was gorgeous. The white leather outfit clung to every curve and as the music played, she seductively spun on the pole like it was an anchor in a storm or a lover she could not let go. Her red boots were in sharp contrast to the outfit as they wrapped around the pole. She worked the pole better than usual, spinning around, contouring her body around it. Her legs would split in the most impossible poses, flashing her barely covered crotch to the crowd as they roared for more. Dan was torn between pride at having such a desirable woman and seeing her swaying seductively in front of a crowd. He watched mesmerized with the rest of the audience as Jen climbed up the pole, bending backwards as she reached the ceiling. Flipping upside-down to the roar of the crowd, Jen's hair fell free as she slid slightly down the pole, her long brown locks lightly whispering on the stage as she held herself up only by the strength of her thighs while her hands slid down (or up?) over her body. Without a pause her hands slid over her hips, unzipping the shorts with one movement as she flipped up, her legs wrapping around the pole and slowly sliding down the pole. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 01 Her shorts flew off her, revealing her white lace thong to the roar of the crowd as she seductively worked the pole, her back arched giving glimpses of her bare ass flashing through her hair fanning out as she swayed to the song. As the music slowed, Jen extended her body out perpendicular to the pole, her legs splitting wide before the crowd who cheered, amazed and awed at her physical strength and seductiveness as she slowly lowered herself to the stage as the song ended. Diamond was one of the star attractions to the club, and again Dan felt both pride and shame his Jenny had to resort to what she did. The crowd continued cheering as Jen—Diamond—slowly slid down the pole, doing a split in front of the crowd. As the second song came on—Marilyn Manson's 'Personal Jesus'—Jen began strutting across the stage, moving her body in rhythm to the beat. She was well choreographed, and Dan knew she was moving away to give her arms and legs a break after working the pole. Walking forward to a group of guys waving bills, Jen bent forward, pressing the cleavage formed by her tits encased in the tight bustier into the face of one guy while she slowly turned her head towards Dan, her hips swaying to the beat of the song. With her attention momentarily on Dan, several guys took the opportunity of stuffing money into her bustier, while others inserted dollars into her thong. Normally Jen would playfully admonish guys taking such liberties, but tonight she just stared at Dan, allowing them to have their liberties with her. A few of the more daring slide their fingers down the inside of her top, getting a quick feel of her breasts before pulling away as Dan watched admonished. Finally turning her attention back to the guys in front of her, Jen slowly bent backwards to the roar of the crowd around the stage as those in the front got a nice view of her exposed crotch outlined by her thong as she arched her back, her boot-covered legs holding her up in front of them. At some point the girls sitting on each side of Dan disappeared, but his attention was all on Jen as she strutted in front of the crowd of guys cheering her on. Dan could tell she was pissed, even without letting the guys touch her more than normal her movements swayed more seductively than normal. Never piss off a stripper you are dating was wise advice, he thought, knowing they will pay attention to every guy in the bar except you, purposely trying to make you as jealous as possible. Dan knew Jen was doing it on purpose, and bit down on his tongue, realizing this was his own fault. As the music throbbed to an end, Jen finished with her boots wide apart as she did the splits on the stage, again arching her back away from the crowd, her boots stretched out in a perfect line with her legs as her torso was torqued back. Suddenly her hands rose over her body holding her bustier to the crowd's cheers. With pure strength she straightened her torso up, her arm over her chest covering her breasts as she threw the bustier behind her to the delight of the crowd. Rob Zombie's 'Pussy Liquor' came on as she got up, strutting her hips while her arm still covered her breasts. She began swaying her hips seductively before the crowd, moving rhythmically to the beginnings of the song. Her arms would alternate back and forth, still hiding her breasts as the crowd started cheering "Show us more!" Finally Jen, or Diamond as her stage persona, slowly smiled and seductively raised both her arms over her head, exposing her breasts fully to the crowd while her hips swaying as Rob Zombie's voice came over the speakers, "Get fucked up and fuck up with you!" Jen moved her hands across her stomach, moving them up to cup her breasts as she swayed, bouncing one after the other, alternating them to the beat of the song. Strutting to the crowd, she pulled one guy into her chest as others reached out to insert dollars into her thong. Jen looked over at Dan and then turned around, bending down, her crotch only inches from the face of one guy, who grinned like a kid in the candy store as he took the dollar bill in his hand and pulled the crotch of Jen's thong out, blatantly shoving the money between it and her pussy. Even from his angle Dan could tell Jen was turned on, as the guy held up his finger to his and his buddies' noses. Dan could see it glistening, a testament to how wet she was. Typically the more Jen worked the crowd, the more turned on she got, another thing Dan hated when she danced, but he was too engrossed in her display on the stage to give it much thought. Jen turned back to the pole, spinning on it to the music in nothing but her thigh-high red boots and white laced thong, swaying to the beat, occasionally running her body over herself as she danced for the crowd's delight. She continued to work the pole, undulating her body up and down the metal rod, mimicking humping it. Moving away, Jen slowly lowered herself towards the crowd until she was on her knees, thrusting her crotch forward and back, humping the stage in beat to the music while she pulled the sides of her thong up her hips with her hands. Dan knew from the cheers of the guys in front of her they were getting a glimpse of her pussy lips surrounding the crotch of her thong as she tightened the material into her crotch. Typically the girls did three songs to a set; however, Jen stayed where she was as a fourth song came on and Dan groaned, recognizing Theory of a Deadman's 'Bad Girlfriend' starting to play. He again recalled the old adage about pissing off your stripper girlfriend as Jen started strutting off the stage into the crowd. Normally the girls did not enter the crowd, it being less easy to control the stray hand or feel; however, Jen was definitely on a roll as she swayed to the music, dancing and rubbing against several guys as she walked amongst them, whipping her head around so her hair flared out. Finally she turned around and sat into one guy's lap, slowly dry humping him, staring straight at Dan. Dan knew this was payback, but suddenly realized through his self-pity Jen was not as reckless as he thought, recognizing the guy whose lap she was sitting on to be a regular at the club. He obviously knew the rules as his hands stayed to his sides even though he had an almost naked girl humping his lap. Touching the girls in public was a Cardinal Sin, and he obviously knew it regardless of what Jen was doing. The back room was a different matter, but in public, the vice division of the police would love to have a reason to close a club down. Getting up, Jen continued to tease the crowd, bending over tables backwards so her breasts thrust in the air, her nipples from the air conditioned room standing straight up. At one point she even climbed on one table to dance, doing splits right in front of a couple guys as they stared in amazement at her crotch. Jen was purposely flaunting herself in front of Dan—payback was a bitch. Finally she made it back to the stage, working the pole as the dollars started getting thrown on the stage. Again performing some remarkable moves that showed her body to its fullest, she finally came to rest on the stage as the song ended, her arms raised in the air as she sunk into the splits one final time to the crowd's cheers. As Jen picked up the money off the stage, wiping down the pole and grabbing her clothes, she glared one final time at Dan as she went backstage to get dressed as another intermission song came on, DJ Jaz' 'She Can Get It.' Looking at his watch, Dan saw Jen had at least another hour to her shift, so would be working the crowd for table dances. After the last performance, she would definitely earn some good tips and Dan took a sip of his beer, realizing sometime during her set it had been refreshed with a new one, but he had been totally oblivious to his surroundings. Quickly downing the longneck he caught one of the waitresses' eyes as she nodded knowingly for a refill. Dan resigned himself to what was going to be a long hour. Jen was going to continue to make him pay for pissing her off, so he needed the bolster of a few more drinks. The set on stage was a precursor of how bad it would get, once in the crowd he did not know what Jen would do to make him suffer for the argument. Lost in his own thoughts, Dan felt more than saw somebody standing in front of him. Figuring it was the waitress with his refill, he reached down to pull out a tip when a voice he had heard barely over an hour ago caused his heart to stop dead as he looked up in shock. "Well goddamn, you lying sack of shit!" Chuck's voice came above him. Dan saw Chuck beaming at him, a big grin on his face as if were a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Mary—or Kitten he reminded himself—was next to him, his arm wrapped around her waist holding her tightly against his side, her breasts pressed tightly against his shoulder. Still smiling, Chuck sat down next to Dan, pulling Mary onto his lap. "I thought you had to pick up the little woman from work," he asked, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Although flabbergasted at Chuck appearing here, Dan's thoughts quickly regrouped as he told him, "Uh...well she called and said she had to work a little later than usual, and I knew you were coming to the clubs so came in case I met up with you." Dan felt quite proud of his last minute save. "Well damn, it's a good thing I decided to come here early!" he laughed. "By the way, Kitten, this here's an old friend of mine, why don't you show him some companionship," he laughed, pushing Mary by the hips over towards Dan's lap. As Mary slid onto Dan's lap she looked at him questioningly and he slowly shook his head, silently telling her not to give away they knew each other. Strippers are not dumb, no matter what guys may think, and Mary was quick on her feet, smiling and wrapping her arms around Dan. "Well, any friend of Mr. DeWight's is a friend of mine," she said, pressing her curvaceous body into Dan's. Chuck smiled as he 'introduced' Kitten, his hand roaming up and down her leg. Typical of Chuck Dan thought, even though Kitten was on his lap, Chuck was making his moves. Mary kept her arm around Dan's neck as music started playing for the next set. Looking up at the stage, Dan saw Denise—or Crystal he thought, knowing he had to call the girls by their stage names in front of Chuck—come out on the stage. Dan recognized the set playing as he had helped her, as well as many of the girls, put their song sets together. Dan watched as Crystal started spinning slowly on the pole to Eels' 'Fresh Blood.' "So you changed your plans and came here first?" Dan asked abstractedly, trying to figure out what to do about the situation. Chuck laughed, "I thought you said you didn't remember which club I was going first," he said as Dan realized his slip of the tongue. Chuck did not seem to dwell on it as he continued, "I called and found out some of my favorites from this club were on this shift, so wanted to watch them before they had to leave," he said, giving Mary's thigh a big squeeze. Mary giggled, playing the situation as if nothing were unusual and Dan and Chuck were just two guys she was working—although based on Chuck's comments, Dan had a feeling she knew he was going to be the new owner of the club. Seeing movement, Dan watched as another one of the girls—Ruby, aka Michelle—started to come over, but Chuck waved her onwards as he turned to Dan. "So, you changed your mind, eh?" he looked at Dan with a big grin. "Well good to hear, maybe I can entice you from your real estate job and have you work in my business," he giggled oddly. "You know, keep it in the family," he said with a wink. Dan figured he was referring to how close he and Chuck's families were in childhood, always attending each other's parties and events. Dan took a sip of his beer, his attention drawn to Chuck as he whistled loudly, waving over to John the bartender, who quickly dropped what he was doing and moved over to our couch. Yup, the staff definitely knew Chuck was going to be the boss, as everybody was treating him royally Dan realized. He watched as Chuck gave John some orders who quickly returned to the bar. Turning back to face Dan, Chuck laughed, "Enough of that horse piss to drink, might as well get you a real man's drink!" he said, as Dan saw John walking back with a tray, two glasses of whiskey or bourbon on it and a flute of champagne. "Ah no, that's ok..." Dan started to say, only to be interrupted by Chuck saying, "Nonsense! In my clubs you get to drink for free and be treated as a king!" he exclaimed, handing Dan the glass. Dan took a sip—bourbon he grimaced—as Mary thanked Chuck and took the champagne flute from his hands. Dan felt Mary's body jerked as she took a sip, and he looked at her surprised face wondering what was wrong as Mary looked at Chuck. "And the same goes for my girls," Chuck winked at Mary. Customers could buy the girls a flute of champagne for $10.00 a glass, to show their 'appreciation' to the girls. Most guys thought they were paying to get the girls loosened up in the hopes they allowed a bit more touchy-feely than usual during table dances; however, the glasses were typically more ginger ale than champagne. Based upon Mary's reaction, Dan knew that was not the case here, as Mary sipped her full glass quietly. Glancing at the stage, Dan saw Crystal and her slow dance and start strutting to the next song, Faderhead's 'TZDV.' As he watched her move he was very conscious she was not as good of a dancer as Jenny, her movements coming off jerky instead of smooth, and made a mental note to suggest a smoother song for her set next time he helped. As Dan and Mary sipped their drinks, Chuck went on about some of the changes he wanted to do to the club. "Mind you this is one of the more successful clubs, so I don't want to change a good thing; however, there still are some upgrades needed—the sound system, security, and the girls' dressing rooms suck ass and need a complete overhaul. Hell, I wouldn't want my dog in that mess," he said patting Mary's leg. Mary smiled at him, thanking him, but Dan could tell from her response this was not news to her as he wondered when the girls had found out about their new owner. "Ah, here she comes!" Chuck whispered loudly, surprising both Dan and Mary out of their reveries of watching Crystal on stage. Looking up, Dan saw Jen strutting through the crowd. She had put back on her leather bustier and hot pants and was working the crowd, pausing now and then to flirt with the clientele. She looked over at Dan and seeing him with Chuck, her eyebrows rose, but then the pissed off façade returned to her face as she purposely sat in the lap of the closest customer, whispering in his ear. At the guy's eager nod, she got up and started doing a lap dance for him, placing his hands on her hips as she undulated before him. Jen could definitely dance to the industrial rock song better than Crystal as she swayed and turned. The guy kept his hands in one position, as if frozen in stone, so it was impossible for him not to feel her ass and crotch as she turned and undulated in front of him, turning her body into his hands. Like a good customer, he let her direct where his hands were, not moving them from where she had placed them in front of him. Jen—or Diamond—slid up and down the customer's leg as he pulled out some money and tucked it down the front of her hot pants as she rose up thanking him. He obviously had not paid for a full dance, as she would have stayed the entire song, instead moving a little closer to her and Chuck and talking to another customer. "Kitten, why don't you get ready for your set," Chuck said, dismissing Mary with a wave. Without a word Marry got up and went backstage to get ready. That she was following Chuck's demands showed she already considered him the boss, as she had not hesitated to his demands. Glancing over, Dan saw Chuck's gaze transfixed on Jen as she gyrated back and forth to the music of Crystal's set in front of the new customer. Seeing Dan's look at Jen, Chuck grinned, "Ah, you notice her too, eh? You and I always did have similar tastes," he laughed, mistaking Dan's gaze at Jen for something else. "I tell you, I would have paid twice the amount of what this club was worth for a piece of that ass," Chuck said, catching Dan's attention. "That there," Chuck waved his drink towards Jen, "is going to be the star of this club and my enterprise," he told Dan. Dan felt his stomach drop, knowing he would have to talk to Jen as soon as possible about her finding a new job. Once Chuck gave a woman that gaze, he was relentless in pursuing her until he fucked her, and there was no way in Hell Dan was going to allow that to happen! Suddenly realizing his thoughts, he chuckled, recognizing Jen would never cheat on him; she was a big girl and would tell Chuck no on her own. Mistaking his chuckle for disbelief, Chuck continued, "You don't think? Well I've already talked to all the girls and they have all agreed to stay on here, so it's only a matter of time my friend, only a matter of time." Dan recalled the 'contracts' rumored the girls had to sign to dance at DSA-owned clubs and he could only stare in disbelief at Chuck. Jen could not have signed on with Chuck's ownership, he hoped. And if so, prayed it was nothing binding she could get out of easily. "It's just a job," he thought grimly as he repeated Jen's usual defense at working at the club. Even so, Dan was lost as he planned out her quitting, only half listening to Chuck prattle on about the club. Seeing doubt on Dan's face, Chuck slapped him on the back. "Every woman has a price, my boy, didn't college teach you anything?" he laughed. All Dan could remember of college was Chuck sleeping with all his dates, thankful it would not be happening with Jen. As the song ended, Jen thanked the guy who she had danced for, bending down to give him a kiss on the cheek as he shoved his tip into her cleavage. Giving a playful laugh, she turned towards Dan and Chuck as Chuck waved his hand to her and she made her way over to them. The next song started playing on stage—The Birthday Massacre's 'In the Dark'—and Dan saw out of the corner of his eye Crystal swaying to the music; however, his attention turned solely on Jen as she walked up to them. Chuck patted his leg and Jen smoothly glided down on his right thigh as if already familiar with him, facing both Chuck and Dan. Dan's heart pounded as Chuck's hand wrapped around her bare waist, stroking the side of her waist. "This is the star of the club," Chuck told Dan. "Diamond, this is Dan, an old friend of the family," he introduced. If Jen was surprised, she did not show it as she smiled seductively at Dan saying, "It's always a pleasure to meet another of Mr. DeWight's friends," she purred. Dan could not believe it, she literally purred! Trying to calm himself, he told her he was glad to meet her as Chuck once again waved over John the bartender. As John bent down Chuck whispered in his ear, the rest of her statement registered into his head—'another' of Mr. DeWight's friends? How long had Chuck been scoping the club, he wondered. His attention was brought back to John who was glancing anxiously over at Jen and then Dan, nodding his head to Chuck's order before going back to the bar. They watched Crystal finish her set as John returned, handing Jen her drink. Catching Dan's eye when he handed him another bourbon, John mouthed "Sorry" to Dan as he turned away. Everybody knew Jen could not handle her liquor well, so if the drink was a full gin and tonic, Dan could understand John's apology, glad it was close to her shift ending and they would be leaving. Jen's gasp as she took a sip of the drink confirmed his suspicion as Chuck laughed again repeating, "Only the best for my girls!" Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 01 The next intermission song came on—Kanye West's 'Stronger—as Chuck proceeded to talk about 'Diamond's' various strengths and talents—pole dancing, picking the best clothes of any of the girls, the best songs for her set, and so forth. Dan almost laughed knowing he was the one picking out Jen's clothes and songs, wondering if Chuck would have complimented them if he knew the truth. As Chuck talked, Dan caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Chuck's hand had move to the inside of Jen's left upper thigh, slowly stroking her bare skin back and forth. Seeing his rival's hand so intimately on his fiancée's leg, Dan tried to get control of his emotions by downing his drink, forgetting it was pure bourbon as he shook his head to clear the burn. "That's my boy, just like old times," Chuck said, as he waved John for another drink for all of them. Jen started to decline but Chuck would not have any of it, "Nonsense, finish that before your next one gets here." Although it was spoken as a quiet comment, Dan knew Chuck well enough to recognize an order from a boss to his employee and realized Jen had come to the same conclusion as she downed her drink. By Jen's demeanor and purposely acting as if Dan were a stranger she obviously agreed with Dan's decision to not let Chuck know about their relationship. As such, he kept quiet, although he kept glancing down between her legs as Chuck's hand move up further to the hem of her shorts, his thumb moving in circles, occasionally brushing Jen's crotch through her leather hot pants. Their attention was momentarily drawn to the stage as Mary came out in a little school girl uniform, strutting to Crazy Town's 'Lollipop Porn.' Dan recognized her outfit as one he had picked out for Jen and almost said something about Mary borrowing it, but realized with Chuck there, he could not give away he knew the girls. As he began to turn his attention back to the stage movement again out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he looked down to see Chuck's hand in Jen's crotch as his little finger slowly massaged her thigh, his thumb almost wedge in her crotch. Looking up, Dan saw Chuck staring directly at him with a smile. As if mesmerized, Dan looked back down and watched as Chuck slowly pulled Jen's thigh, spreading her legs. Dan could not believe what was happening as he looked back up at Chuck's smiling face, who winked at Dan. Nodding his head forward slightly away from the stage, Dan turned and saw a group of guys watching them—or more succinctly Jen's crotch—as Chuck pulled her legs apart before them. Looking back down, Dan could not believe his eyes as he saw Chuck's thumb moving up and down stroking the middle seamed crotch of Jen's hot pants. Glancing up at Jen, he saw her sitting still as a statue, her eyes transfixed at Mary's dance routine. Dan knew she was not even seeing Mary dance, instead feeling every stroke of Chuck's thumb, but not wanting to make a scene in front of her new boss. Looking back at the table of guys, Dan saw them lift their drinks in thanks to Chuck as they continued to watch him stroke the inside of Jen's crotch through her shorts. Dan again looked at Jen's face, seeing her gaze still transfixed on the stage. He lowering his gaze and froze as he saw her nipples sharply outlined through the leather bustier! Her breasts rose and fell in deep breaths and Dan forced himself to swallow, realizing Jen was aroused and hoping Chuck did not notice. Dan looked back at Chuck who smiled, winking at Dan as if to say, "Told you so," while his other hand that had been wrapped around her waist rubbed slide around to Jen's bare stomach, stroking it while she sat stoically on his lap. Dan continued to stare, his gaze alternating between the guys in front of them to Chuck's blatant liberties being taken on Jen. A moment of silence caught his attention as he realized Mary's song had ended without him realizing it as Chuck spoke up. "Diamond, would you be a good girl and move to my other leg, this one's starting to fall asleep," he laughed. Jen switched position—now facing away from Dan with her back towards him, as he noticed she was now facing another group of guys who had been fairly loud all night. Dan's attention was briefly brought back to the stage as Kitten's next song—Black Buddafly's 'Rock-a-Bye'—began. Turning back to Chuck who again smiled at Dan, he saw Chuck's right hand moved down in front of Jen. From the expressions and cheers from the other table of guys across from Jen's new position, Dan knew Chuck was continuing his stroking of her crotch while she sat on his lap. John returned with a tray of drinks, bringing not one, but two drinks each for both Dan and Jen. Dan was suddenly grateful as he downed the first one almost in one gulp. Chuck laughed, giving him the proverbial "Atta boy!" as Jen handed her empty glass to John. As she took the first glass she almost downed it as fast as he did to Chuck's chuckle. As Jen took her third drink in her hand, Dan saw movement by his leg and watched transfixed as Chuck's hand snaked around Jen's waist, slowly stroking her bare back as his fingers moved lower to the waistband of her shorts to the slight indent of her spine. Gazing up, he saw Chuck again smiling as he again winked at Dan, who looked down amazed as Chuck's hand slipped underneath Jen's waistband, his whole hand disappearing beneath the leather. Dan stared transfixed while his rival's hand cupped and groped his fiancée's ass beneath her shorts! Jen was pissed off at him obviously, but she would not normally allow anybody—particularly her boss—feel her up like this. He was at a loss for words as he remained mesmerized watching Chuck's hands work both Jen's ass and crotch, while the group of guys across from them continued to show their appreciation by cheering. The intermission song—David Guetta's 'Baby When the Light'—came on as Mary left the stage, but Dan's attention was still focused on Chuck's hands feeling both the front and back of his fiancée's body. In the back of his mind he realized he had missed Mary's entire set, but his attention was too focused on the display between him and Chuck. The other table was becoming louder, now making lewd comments heard above the intermission song. Comments such as "My cock can do more than that thumb" and so forth drifted to Dan's ears. He was completely at a loss, not knowing what to do. Still, this was Jen's territory, and trusting in her, he remained silent, but the pit in his stomach got deeper and deeper as he just sat there as Chuck felt her up. Chuck continued for a bit until the song slowly came to an end and then spoke in the silence. "Diamond," Chuck said, catching both of their attention. Chuck grinned, but Dan was uncertain if it was from his startled jerk or Jen's as he continued. "Gregg has told me there's no vice here tonight, so why don't you go over to the table across from us and show the guys some appreciation for their patronage." The statement was made almost as a whisper, just barely audible over the noise of the crowd and the ending of the song as Jen slowly stood up to the cheer of the table of rowdy guys. In the brief silence before the next set, Chuck's voice came out, "Oh, and I don't think you'll need these," he said as he reached up, unzipping both sides of Jen's shorts simultaneously, letting them fall to the ground. Jen stood there in her lace thong, bustier, and boots as Dan saw the eager expressions on the guys across from her. She started to walk over to them when Chuck grabbed her hand, "Oh, and one other thing dear, do not come back here without at least a $300.00 tip!" he grinned at her. Dan gasped aloud at the comment, and even Jen's eyes widened in surprise at the unheard price for a table dance. Typically dances were $30.00, with a good tip earning the girls another $10.00. Sometimes if they had a particularly randy customer and went topless they might even get away with $50.00, but a $300.00 table dance was unexpected. Even somebody as good a dancer as Jen would have a hard time pulling it off as Dan guessed she would have to dance through the entire set of songs. Then Dan's mind registered on the implications. Basically Chuck was telling her to do a set in the crowd. With this realization came the other part of Chuck's statement, "Gregg has told me there's no vice here tonight," as Dan grasped Chuck's intent, telling Jen to go as far as she wanted. He continued to stare stupidly at Jen as she nodded to Chuck and swayed over to the table. Seeing movement on the stage, he realized one of the other girls, Gen (as opposed to Jen) whose stage name was Emerald had walked onto the stage. Dan had also helped her put together her sets, so wondered which one she was dancing to tonight, and as the first beats of the music came on, he felt his heart sink, knowing this was one of her slow sets—and one of the longer ones the girls used. Dan could hear Chuck's deep quiet laughter as he felt his back slapped, "I'm telling you 3-D, that is going to be my biggest money maker!" Noticing Gen wearing a belly dancer's outfit, he barely noticed her start her routine as he turned back to the more important main event of his fiancée. Dan watched aghast as Jen whispered to the guys at the table and seeing their eager nods knew what their answer on whether they wanted a table dance or not was. Dan did not know what to expect as the first song, Massive Attack's 'Teardrop' slowly started playing. Glancing next to him, he saw Chuck was also watching Jen with his full attention... As the music started slowly, Jen—or he should say Diamond as she was in full stripper mode—moved her hips, swaying to the steady beat of the music. Her hands ran up her hips, moving in front of her until they were raised over her head. Her body swayed as she spread her legs apart in what Dan knew was in preparation for her leaning back away from the table, knowing her pelvis would be thrust forward to them. As predicted she leaned back, arching her body until she was arched backwards, her hands and chest thrust towards Dan and Chuck while her pelvis was blatantly in front of the table who cheered in response. She slowly stood up—Dan again amazed at her body's strength as she ran her hands over her arms, her chest, her hips, sliding her palms down to her thighs. Turning away from the table, she continued sliding down to grasp her ankles as her almost bare ass pointed straight in their direction of the table. Jen looked up at Dan who was as engrossed as everybody else as she continued to sway, bent over with her hands around her ankles. Her hips undulated side to side as her ass and crotch moved directly in front of the guys to their enjoyment. Slowly standing up, she shimmied around until she was again facing the table, moving her hands over her body slowly. She started sinking down slowly until she was crouched in front of one guy, her legs spread apart, her hips continuing to sway seductively. Dan could tell by the gaze of the guy in front of her he was staring at her crotch pressed tightly against the thong's material as Diamond's hands moved over her thighs and knees. Slowly rising, she continued to sway, in a half crouch, rubbing her ass against the guy's legs as she again turned and crouched down over his lap. Standing up and turning around again to face him, she took his hands, placing them on her hips as the song slowly played its melodic beat. Bending down, Diamond whispered something in his ear and he numbly nodded his head. As she whispered, her hips never stopping swaying as his hands held her hips back and forth. Straightening back up she raised her hands through her hair, slowly letting it fall around her shoulders as she continuing to dance to the seductive music. Dan glanced around and saw everybody in the crowd was watching Diamond, Emerald's set barely being observed while she danced. Thankfully, the lights shining on the stage prevented Gen from noticing she was not the main attraction; however, Dan caught the eyes of several of the other girls working the floor as they slowly shook their heads—whether in denial or to tell him to stop it or not to do anything, he knew not as he continued to watch Diamond dance. Diamond's hands slowly moved down to her chest, and Dan could tell by the guys' eyes in front of her she was squeezing her tits through the bustier, either together to show her cleavage or palming them he knew not, but they stared transfixed as her body continued to sway. Rising up, she again bent down and whispered something into the one of the other guys' ears and he eagerly nodded, the song slowly ending. As the next song, Velvet Acid Christ's 'Slut' started to play, Diamond slowly turned around, her eyes closed as she reached around her front. Dan slowly gulped as he watched enthralled as she undid her bustier, letting it springing free in front of her, baring her chest to everybody. Most table dances in the main room were fully clothed; however, he had seen some go topless. Dan was only mildly concerned as Diamond danced, her bare breasts swaying with her movement. Usually she held off going topless until she was in a private room, saying she earned more through quality, not quantity, but tonight was obviously different. Even some of the regulars showed surprised as he caught a few glances in his direction from those knowing him and Diamond were an item. As the music played, Diamond's hands slowly began stroking her breasts, then moving to her waist as she turned around. Even from this distance, Dan could see her nipples standing straight out, both from the air of the club and her obvious excitement. Facing sideways, her hands went in front of her again as she massaged her chest to the guys cheers. Dan glanced to the stage and saw Gen smiling, obviously thinking the cheers were for her dance routine as she continued to dance. Dan turned back to Diamond who was slowly turning in his direction. As she turned towards him, his mouth almost fell open as he saw she had both her nipples tightly held between her thumb and forefinger, moving her breasts in a circular motion as she danced. He could not believe how blatant Diamond was with this dance. It was totally out of character for her, and he no longer attributed it to her being pissed at him as he glanced at Chuck, who had a big grin on his face as he watched Diamond sensually undulate to the music. Dan then realized he no longer was referring to her as Jen, but Diamond, wondering when he had become absorbed in the fantasy. As if in a trance, she bent down to one of the guys, his eyes transfixed on her bare breasts swinging freely in front of him as she again whispered something in his ear. Immediately his eyes jumped to her face as he eagerly nodded. Dan grasped she was slowly increasing the price of the dance, telling the guys she would be going further and further with each price hike. He silently applauded her intuitiveness to meet her boss' limit, both ashamed and amazed wondering how far she would go. Turning back around facing away from him, Diamond lowered herself into the guy's lap, rubbing her ass up and down his crotch as if fucking him slowly. Instinctively he reached to her hips, almost pulling away as Diamond's hands sought his; however it was not to push him away everybody realized as she raised his hands up her sides and in front of her, pressing his palms against her breasts and allowing him to massage her bare tits! Dan looked over at Chuck who grinned back at Dan, "Don't worry, I had the bouncers check for vice, so this is a pretty safe crowd, and nobody's going to complain with a show like this, eh?" he laughed. His attention immediately turned back to Jen as she slowly rubbed dry humped the guy's lap, his hands firmly kneading her breasts, squeezing them mercilessly. Diamond's hands moved over the man's, helping him massage her breasts as the song slowly ended, the crowd erupting in applause and cheers. Dan quickly glanced at Emerald on stage, whose smile obviously showed she thought the cheers were for her, as his gaze moved back to Diamond. Dan watched amazed as the guy pinched her nipples, her response being to lean back into his chest, tilting her head back against his shoulder as her mouth parted. After what seemed like forever, but was probably only seconds, Diamond slowly stood up, bending over the next guy and whispering to him. At his vigorous nod, she sat on his lap like the previous guy. This time, without her prompting he grabbed her chest, working her breasts like a masseuse as he continued where the other guy left off. Diamond once again rocked her hips, dry humping him as he had his way with my fiancée's breasts. Instead of guiding him with her hands, she had them gripped on the sides of the chair, letting him have free reign with his way with her as the song ended. The next song, Puscifer's 'Rev 22-20 -- Dry Martini Mix' came on, and Diamond's body began to undulate sensually to the slow music. Diamond—Dan could no longer think of her as anything but the stripper—leaned backwards against the guy's chest, saying something over his shoulder to the group of guys sitting at the table. With her head tilted back like that, her breasts thrust up and the guy whose lap she was sitting on wasted no time continuing to squeeze them. Dan stared in awe at the hands over each of his fiancée's breasts, almost resembling a baker kneading tanned dough as the guy roughly clenched the soft yielding flesh. As if oblivious to the manipulation of her breasts, Diamond continued talking to the guys behind her, her head leaning back over his shoulder. She said something else and apparently everybody standing around heard her as they all said loudly "Hell yeah" as she smiled at them, her hips slowly swaying in the guy's lap. Still leaning back, Dan watched as the guy suddenly pinched both nipples between his fingers causing her to moan loudly, heard even from Dan's seat over the crowd as they cheered. After a moment she regained her composure and slowly stood up to the reluctant groan of the guy whose lap she had been in. Turning towards him smiling, she hooked her thumbs underneath the bands of her thong and Dan's heart stopped. "Surely she wouldn't," he thought as she slowly moved the thong back and forth away from her body in time to the music, her hips moving with the steady beat. Slowly turning around and facing Dan and Chuck, they watched mesmerized as Diamond bent down lowering the thong to the floor! Behind her, the guys cheered, getting a full view of her exposed pussy as the material sprang away from her crotch and she kicked it off with her booted feet. Dan was entranced and shocked, as none of the girls went bottomless in the public crowd. Although the club allowed full nudity on the stage, the crowd was too unpredictable to be around without a bit of distance for such exposer. Even on the stage Jen had never gone so far, always wearing a thong even in the private rooms where she had gone topless. Now here she was wearing nothing but her thigh-high spiked boots as she gyrated before the gathered crowed, in awe of her perfect nude body. Dancing around the table seductively, Dan watched in amazement as one guy, then another began to rub her ass and thighs, no longer mindful of the club rules of no touching as Diamond gave them full freedom to touch her. A few times she would bend down towards somebody as they blatantly grabbed her hanging breasts, squeezing her nipples to her obvious delight before shifting on to the next guy. Diamond eventually stood up and contemplated the group of guys. Somehow making up her mind, she swayed over to one and straddled his lap, her bare ass jutting out between his legs. From Dan's angle, even at this distance he could see the hard-on the guy was sporting through his jeans as she lowered herself into his lap, straddling his legs and hooking her ankles around the legs of the chair. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 01 The guy was frozen in indecision as Diamond began to grind her bare crotch blatantly against his crotch. Sensing his hesitancy, she reached down and guided his hands around her hips until he was cupping her ass as the song slowly ended. The next song, Portishead's 'Glory Box,' began softly without her hips losing rhythm. Everybody watched mesmerized as the guy clenched her ass cheeks. Diamond slowly leaned into the guy, whispering something in his ear. His eyes opened in amazement as he slowly nodded his head. Without hesitation Diamond took his left hand from her ass and guided it between their bodies and right to where her crotch was straddling his! The crowd erupted with cheers as Dan stared transfixed. From his angle he could only see the guy's hand between her legs, but knew it was low enough to be at her crotch—with nothing between the strangers fingers and her bared pussy. Wrapping her arms around the guy's neck, Diamond tilted her head back as her hips began moving her crotch up and down. The guy's arm remained stationary, frozen in place as he stared at her in amazement, but it was obvious to everybody at this point she was gliding his fingers up and down her slit. Suddenly Diamond lout a loud moan as she jerked her hips forward, and everybody around her knew without any doubt the guy had at least one, if not more fingers buried into her pussy! The guy kept his hand still while Diamond moved her hips back and forth in beat with the song as it seductively played. Amazed, Dan watched with the rest of the crowd as her hips slowly moved faster than the beat. Her head leaned back as her breasts thrust towards the guy's face, but he was too preoccupied with what was going on with his hand to even notice her breasts inches from his face. Even the crowd was silent as her hips began moving faster and faster, everybody transfixed at the site of this beautiful girl humping a stranger's hand. Abruptly her body arched back, a lough "Ugh" escaping her mouth as she fell forward against the guy's chest, her entire body quivering as it became apparent to everybody she was orgasming. Dan and the rest of the crowd could only stare in utter amazement as she continued to shiver, bent forward. This time the guy's hand moved back and forth as he continued to finger fuck her. Steadily his arm sped up and after a few more minutes, her hips again thrust forward as she held tightly onto the guy, her body again shaking uncontrollably as she came again from his digital manipulations. Regaining her composure after a few moments, she whispered in the guy's ear and giving him a kiss on the cheek slowly stood up. Everybody's eyes immediately moved to the guy's glistening hand, covered with pussy juice and shining blatantly in the flashing lights of the club. Dan's reverie was broken as Chuck started slowly clapping, the rest of the crowd joining in as they began to cheer. Jen looked over towards them, a sheepish smile on her face as she crouched down to pick up her thong and bustier while everybody around her began shoving money at her as she took it with a smile. After the last bill was handed to her, Jen sashayed over to Chuck and Dan, still fully nude in her high heeled thigh-high red boots as Chuck immediately pulled her into his lap, one hand nonchalantly gripping her right ass cheek. "Fucking marvelous Diamond, truly awe-inspiring...but did you meet your quota?" he asked with a grin. Jen slowly started counting out the money as Chuck again motioned to John, raising two fingers and waving at the three of them; however, Dan's attention was mostly on the bills Jen was counting out on the table as he stared in amazement as she tallied up $575.00! John came over with more drinks and both Dan and Jen downed theirs immediately to Chuck's chuckle, as they slowly sipped the second. Chuck continued to make small talk with Dan as if nothing untoward had happened; as if not even aware there was a naked woman on his lap. More surprisingly, Jen seemed perfectly at ease sitting on her boss' lap naked with his hand firmly gripping her ass. Dan could only stare at Jen's flushed face, fully aware of his fiancée's nudity as she sat on his nemesis' lap. Moving his gaze downwards he gaped at her pussy lips puffy and pouting slightly outwards, her entire crotch glistening with her sex as he took another long pull from his drink, knowing the group of guys to the other side could see her just as well. Jen seemed perfectly at ease sitting on her boss' lap naked, his hand firmly gripping her ass exposed to everybody. As the intermission song played—Porcelain Black's 'This Is What Rock N Roll Looks Like' Dan realized he had missed yet another of the girls' sets, his attention solely focused on Jen—or Diamond—and her blatant exposure. "Well Dan, if you'll excuse me," Chuck said breaking his reverie, "I need to discuss some business with Diamond," Chuck said, slowly sliding Jen off his lap as he stood. It was impossible not to notice the raging hard-on in his pants as he wrapped his arms around Jen's waist, and that made Dan realize the raging erection he also had as well. The entire evening had become dreamlike, his mind was in a turmoil at what he had seen so far this evening, a mixture of being turned on and shocked coursing through his system. "Diamond, if you'll please join me, we can finish our conversation from the other night," Chuck said mysteriously as Dan could only stare at his naked fiancée being escorted through groups of men by his childhood rival. Dan's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, not knowing what to think or what Chuck meant about finishing their previous conversation as Chuck guided Jen through the crowded club. Seeing his fiancée naked other than thigh-high red boots was as improbable as her behavior the entire evening and Dan's mind could not even grasp the reality of the situation. Watching Chuck guide her through the club, he watched again in a dreamlike state as several guys—obviously emboldened by how she had just behaved—patted and rubbed her ass and thighs as she passed them. Jen-Diamond did not even do anything as her body was fondled while Chuck guided her towards the back hallway where the private rooms were located. Dan felt his heart again flutter. Trying to rationalize things, he reminded himself Chuck's new office was also down those hallways. Occasionally Chuck would stop to chat with customers, keeping Jen—or Diamond—on full display before them. Still in a daze Dan realized somebody was near him and he looked up, seeing John the bartender standing there. Glancing back at Chuck, he started picking up the discarded glasses and looked at Dan. "Dan, I am so sorry. Mary told us you did not want Mr. DeWight knowing Jen and you were an item, and a job is a job. But fuck it man, those drinks he was having me give her were all spiked with something," he said. "What?" Dan said, almost drawing attention to those around him. "I'm saying don't blame Jen on this one, Mr. DeWight is one fucked up bastard and had her drinks spiked. She probably doesn't even know what she's doing. What do you want us to do?" he asked, pleadingly. Dan's mind could barely grasp what John said, the events of the evening and seeing Jen being escorted through the club by Chuck foremost on his mind as he responded, "Don't worry John, I don't blame you, but I'm going to step back for a minute." "Sure thing Dan, and again I'm sorry," John said as he made his way back to the bar. Dan got up and went through a 'Staff Only' door on the other side of the stage, heading immediately to a small room to the side, knocking twice. As the door opened, he saw Gregg's face. "Dude, what the fuck was that?" the bouncer asked perplexed, obviously having seen Jen's performance through the security cameras, but Dan just waved him to the hallway. The room behind the door was the main security room where all the cameras in the club fed into a primary video system. Dan had a standing deal with Jen whenever she went to a private room; he was allowed to watch to make sure nothing untoward went on. Jen had worked out the deal in order to appease Dan's jealousness and in the hopes of him realizing this was only a job to her and nothing more. Dan had not come here for a while, his trust in Jen and their relationship needing no reinforcement; however, tonight he came here as if guided by remote control. Typically the only reason Dan came back here anymore was allowing Greg a break, willing to alert him if any of the other rooms got out of hand. In a stupor, Dan waved Gregg by as he entered the room, the steady dim lighting of the television screens glowing before him. With his heart almost in his stomach, Dan started pushing buttons, cycling through the rooms until his body went still as stone, seeing Jen and Chuck enter one of the private ones, not the owner's office as he inwardly hoped. Pushing a few more buttons, Dan turned on all four cameras in the room, showing the area at different angles on the four screens. There was a camera near the couch, pointing up from the floorboards, as well as one in the ceiling and two more hidden in the various decorations on the walls of the small room. The placement of the cameras prevented full coverage, preventing any area unobservable so the bouncers could make sure the girls were alright. With dread Dan flicked the switch to turn on the room's intercom so he could hear as well. Chuck guided Jen into the room, his hand still around her bare waist as he guided her to the couch; however, instead of allowing her to sit, he positioned herself in front of him as he himself sat down. Jen-Diamond looked incredible, her red thigh-high leather boots on contrasting against her tanned skin perfectly. Even from the somewhat crappy resolution of the security cameras Dan could tell she was breathing heavily as her breasts rose and fell. "So Diamond," Chuck's voice came across the speakers in the small room, "do you still think you cannot perform in front of a crowd?" he asked grinning. Dan realized this was a continuation of some other conversation Chuck and Jen had previously, as he tried to wonder what the hell was going on, and how he was going to get his fiancée out of the club. "I don't know what came over me," Jen's voice came across slightly slurry. "I can't believe how I acted out there. I can't even think straight," she said, "I think I drank too much." She sounded like she was saying it more to convince herself than to explain her actions to Chuck. Chuck laughed. "My dear, for once you actually let your body have control instead of holding it back from inhibitions. I knew you had it in you, and remember the money you made with just a single set tonight! This is why I want you to be the lead girl of the clubs around here. You can make well over three times what you have the last two years, so it is obviously financially worth your while," Chuck told her. Dan gapped at the television screen. "Three times her salary?" he whispered to himself in amazement. If true, Chuck's offer was almost hitting the six figure mark and Dan wondered what the hell Chuck was trying to get Jen involved with. In Chuck's business he could only assume the worst. Still, even after what happened tonight so far, he trusted Jen to be level-headed enough to refuse anything too damaging—until his mind again flashed back to the last half hour as he had watched her not only go nude in a crowd, but use one of them to masturbate herself to an orgasm! "I don't know, I still think I need to talk it over with my boyfriend," Jen said. At those words, Dan's ears perked up, hoping Jen was coherent enough to wait until they had a long talk about her leaving this damn club. Chuck slowly shook his head disagreeing. "I checked your financials, and although I don't know who your boyfriend is or what he does for a living, I can guarantee where you live and with my offer your income will be the bread winner of the family. And just think of the things you can't afford now that you will be able to now. As I told you before, you will not be forced or coerced into anything you don't want to do, that I promise," Chuck told her, smiling up at her. Dan knew the way Chuck worked, although he would never force anybody to do anything, he had a way of backing people into a corner until they had no other options. The smile he gave Jen was one Dan had seen Chuck use many times before, making people he was talking to feel at ease and letting their guard down while he went for their throats. Dan had seen it in classes with professors and in bars with girls and he felt his blood run cold. "I still don't know," Jen's voice said. Dan had difficulty breathing, hearing the slight questioning in her voice. "I'll tell you what, let's not go over the contract now...instead, you still look like you have a bit of energy to burn off, so how about you show me some of your other moves and give me a dance?" Chuck smiled at her. Taking her hesitation as assent, Chuck reached over and turned on the sound system next to the sofa which played music from the club. Marilyn Manson's 'Sweet Dreams' came on as Dan recognized Crystal's second set of songs, the throbbing beat seeming to cause Jen's body to reawaken as her hips immediately began slowly swaying in front of Chuck. Jen loved to dance—which was why she enjoyed her job so much. It gave her the chance to enjoy herself and tease guys all night without any consequences. Tonight, Dan wondered if that would still be true as he stared in awe as Jen, still naked except for her red thigh-high spiked boots, began to dance seductively. She apparently had no compunction against dancing nude in front of Chuck as she moved her body entrancingly, her hands traveling all over her body as she instantly fell into beat with the song. Even in his delirious state Dan was amazed at how hot and seductive she looked. Then the reality of the situation would hit him with the thoughts of her was dancing in front of his lifetime rival. As her body swayed, her hips swinging to the beat, Chuck leaned forward and slid his hands up the outside of Jen's legs. When he reached her hips, he pulled her closer until she was dancing between his spread legs. There was no alteration in Jen-Diamond's movements as Chuck blatantly caressed her ass, slowly rubbing, cupping the bottom of her ass cheeks as he slid his hands down the back of her upper thighs. Jen continued dancing, whether so drugged out she was unaware of Chuck's hands, or uncaring as her hips continued to sway to the beat. In time with the song she turned around, slowly sinking down and crouching low as her hands guided Chuck's hands to her breasts! Her head fell back into his lap as Chuck began to slowly massage Jen's tits, her long hair splayed across his spread legs. Jen continued to sway her hips, crouched down with her elbows draped over Chuck's knees while he felt her chest up. Without thinking Dan reached for the zoom on the lower camera, focusing directly on Jen's spread legs, seeing even with the poor resolution her pussy glistening with desire. Dan licked his lips as he stared mesmerized at the screen showing the floor camera, Jen's core swaying before him. Suddenly his view was obstructed as a hand came into view—Chuck's he realized in horror—watching as a finger slipped directly into Jens core! Dan heard Diamond's moan from the speakers as he looked at the other cameras, observing Diamond leaning back into Chuck's lap as his hand moved slowly back and forth finger fucking her. Jen's hips swayed in rhythm to Chuck's hand, the music forgotten as she literally rode his hand. After a few moments Chuck moved his hand away, leaving Jen's pussy lips spread open, her crotch wet with desire. "I think you have had your fare share tonight," Chuck said quietly as he turned Jen around by her shoulders, turning her to face him, still crouched down between him. "Now it's somebody else's turn," he said, reaching down and unbuckling and unzipping his pants. Dan was shocked, standing in place knowing what to expect. Having grown up with Chuck, he had seen him naked in the locker room in the past. Even aware of what to expect, Jen-Diamond's obvious gasp caused him to look closer at the screen as Chuck's eleven-inched fat dick popped into view. "Like what you see," Chuck whispered, "well, how about you show your appreciation," he said. As the next song came on, Dan almost wondered if it had been staged as Nickelback's 'Something in Your Mouth' started playing. Chuck must have also thought the same as he laughed, "Why this is the perfect song, too!" he exclaimed. Dan watched in dismay as Chuck grasped Jen's shoulders, pulling her further between his legs to the large member. As the music throbbed Dan stared in amazement as without hesitation or prompting, Diamond engulfed the member with her mouth! Chuck let out a loud groan at the same time a moan escaped Diamond's lips, her head starting to slide up and down between his legs. Dan watched in amazement at the sight on the screen, his fiancée eagerly sucking his nemesis' cock without hesitation. He saw Chuck looked directly at the camera, giving a 'thumbs up' sign over Jen's bobbing head, obviously aware of the cameras as Dan wondered if he also knew who was watching. Diamond—again Dan wondered when he began referring to her stage name instead of her actual one—worked on Chuck's dick like she had been denied a cock for ages. Dan knew she gave good blowjobs; however, he could not believe how enthusiastically she gobbled Chuck's larger-than-life member fully into her throat. "That's it slut, you definitely look cuter with something in your mouth," Chuck laughed as the song repeated his statement. Dan stood entranced as the cock came out of her mouth and she ran her tongue up the base, her hands cupping Chuck's balls. As she reached the tip, she again engulfed the whole thing into her mouth, moaning the whole time as Chuck guided her head up and down. While Jen's head bobbed up and down on Chuck's dick, his hips began to thrust up as it repeatedly slid between her lips into her oral orifice. Chuck moved his hands in front of her, obviously squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples as Diamond moaned around the dick in her mouth, moving faster. After a few moments of the vigorous pace Chuck grabbed her head, pulling out of her mouth as Jen looked up at him. Looking at Diamond's questioning face, Chuck smiled, "Enough foreplay Diamond, it's time you showed your true side," he grinned. Standing up, he pulled Jen to her feet, his cock glistening with Jen's spit and bobbing between them as Dan could only stare in horror. "Wait," Jen said as Dan watched in amazement as Jen reached to a small shelf and handed Chuck a fucking condom! "Please, I need you to wear this," she pleaded. Chuck smiled and nodded, opening the package and rolling the lubricated condom over his huge member. He then guided Jen over to the tall drink table on one the side of the room. The moment was more than surreal as Dan stared, Halestorm's 'I Get Off' starting to play across the speakers. Dan's heart no longer beat as he stared without blinking at the monitor. While the music played Chuck turned Diamond around to face the table. Placing one hand on her stomach, he pushed her forward. Dan watched as Diamond's tits were pressed onto the cold surface of the table as Chuck moved his hips behind her. As if in a dream, Diamond spread her booted legs apart, resting her weight on the table as Chuck slid his hands up her back, his cock pointing straight towards her. In a moment Dan would never forget he watched as Chuck again looked deliberately at the camera and smiled, reaching down and pulled the condom off his dick, throwing it behind him with a laugh! Then in one movement he thrust his hips forward. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 01 Jen let out a loud "Ugh, fuck!" and Dan knew the inevitable had happened; his rival had entered his fiancée's core. He could only stare as Chuck's hands clutched her hips as he began thrusting rhythmically into her, his cock sinking fully into her. Dan's mind raced as he imagined Jen's vaginal cavity stretched apart from the invasion of Chuck's cock as it invaded her. Jen had not been a virgin when her and Dan had gotten back together, but up until now, even as average as he was in terms of size, Dan had been the largest man she had ever had sex with. Now he could only stare hypnotized at the view on the screen, Diamond bent over the table, Chuck pumping into her from behind. Her ass and thighs jiggled with each thrust as her body moved forward and back in rhythm to Chuck's relentless fucking. Her tits slid back and forth across the table, the mounds of flesh bulging out of all sides of her pressed into the table as Diamond could only hold onto the table for support. Dan recognized it for what it was, pure unadulterated fucking as Chuck unceasingly slammed into Diamond. "Oh God, yes," she began moaning as Chuck thrust into her mercilessly. As the song ended, Dan barely registered Nine Inch Nails' 'Closer' playing other than to notice Chuck's thrusts slowing to match the beat of the song. "Fuck Diamond you are tight, I bet your boyfriend doesn't have a cock my size, does he," Chuck asked. In response to Diamond's grunts Chuck continued, "Of course not, and I bet you love this, don't you slut?" he asked. Diamond continued to grunt as Chuck slammed into her continuously, Dan watching the scene entranced, feeling helpless and not knowing what to do. Finally Chuck pulled back, "Turn around bitch, I want to watch your face as I cum," he said. Dan could not believe his eyes as Diamond sat up and turned around, hopping up on the table and spreading her legs! Chuck just smiled as he moved between her legs, easily entering her slicked, already stretched pussy as he pulled her hips towards him. Dan could imagine the head of Chuck's engorged cock spreading his fiancée's labia apart, plunging into her and spreading her wide. Diamond leaned back, her tits thrust to the ceiling as Chuck grabbed her hips, slamming vigorously into her pelvis as the table rocked dangerously back and forth. Diamond's tits swayed with each thrust, her legs wrapped around Chuck's legs, her heeled boots guiding him into her. Time and surroundings lost all meaning as Dan watched Chuck fuck his fiancée. It was a scene he never thought he could even imagine, his body both horrified and fascinated. He could not deny the scene before him was the most erotic thing he ever saw, the thoughts at odd to the reality of the situation. As the music sped up, so did Chuck, the music getting close to the end. As if in queue to the last few bars of the song, Chuck let out a loud grunt, slamming into Jen one last time and Dan knew Chuck DeWight III, his most bitter nemesis and rival, was cumming inside his fiancée's sex. Enthralled Dan watched as Chuck's hips made a few minor thrusts, emptying his sac into Jen's core, his voice drifting through the speakers. "Yeah, that's it bitch, keep milking my cock with your pussy," he said. As Dan felt his world crashing around him, he saw Chuck pull back and in one motion pull up his pants and buckling them. Jen stood up, drops of fluid dripping from her crotch to the floor and Dan could see streams of milky fluid running down the inside of her legs. Still smiling, Chuck reached over to the couch, picking up some papers and placing them on the table before her. "This is your last chance. You either sign these or not come back to work here again," Chuck told her, as Jen looked at him. Without a word she bent over the papers, picking up the pen, and wrote her name on the last page! Dan did not remember how he made it to the car in the parking lot. He was aware of a few of the girls, as well as Brutus and Gregg asking if he was alright, but his mind was in a stupor as he got into the car and sat there. He wasn't sure how long he was in the car, but looked up as the passenger door opened and Jenny got into the passenger seat. Without a word he started the car and they headed home. On the ride home Jen started to cry, trying to apologize several times for what happened but Dan cut her off; so they rode the rest of the way home in silence. The only other words Jen said was telling him repeatedly she loved him and her feelings remained the same. Dan's mind was in chaos; he was not sure if he should be mad, empty, or what; however, there was one thing he could not deny, the entire trip home, as with the time he was in the club watching things transpire, he had a raging hard-on. As they walked into the door of the house, Jen was ahead of him and all he could see in his mind was her bent over the table, Chuck fucking her from behind. Entering the kitchen, Jen again attempted to apologize, but Dan cut her off. "Shut up Diamond. There's only one thing I want from you right now," he said. Jen looked at him questioningly, as Dan never called her by her stage name, her eyes widening at his next request. "Bend over the table," he demanded. She started to say something he again cut her off. "I said bend over the table slut!" She stared in shock at him, as he never used any such language to her before. Without another word Jen bent over the table, her leather-covered ass sticking up as Dan again envisioned her getting pounded from behind. He had never been harder in his life as he walked up to her and reached on both sides of her hips and unzipped her shorts in one motion When they fell to the floor Dan realized she was not wearing her thong, making him even harder to see her glistening sex exposed to him. Without another word he slammed his cock into her, her only reaction being a loud "Umph" as he entered her still wet pussy. Dan fucked her relentlessly, just as Chuck had. In his mind, he could see her in the private room, her body swaying to the thrusts and he started talking to her, "So this is what you want Diamond? You like getting fucked, eh Diamond? You really are a slut, aren't you?" he kept asking. Jen was grunting loudly as Dan slammed into her, until she finally cried out, "Yes! Fuck me, please!" At her words a dam broke and Dan came deep inside her, pumping more than his usual load into her, filling her core. Her tight vaginal muscles, well-developed from all her pole dancing, clenched down, milking him as he came, and he collapsed on her, his cock buried deep inside her. Finally pulling out, Jen turned around at him, looking beautiful in her bustier and high-heeled boots. She started to say something and Dan shook his head, "Tomorrow, right now, let's just go to bed." Jen quietly nodded and they both went upstairs to their bedroom, where he fucked her two more times before they finally fell asleep. Dan's last thoughts were of Jen naked before a group of men, servicing them to the steady beat of music. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 02 Author's Note: It is recommended to read the previous chapters of this story if you have not done so already to better understand the storyline and characters... * Dan woke up the next morning after the worst dream of his life. Stretching next to his fiancée Jenny he turned towards her, surprised she had gone to bed naked instead of wearing her usual pajama attire of camisole and lacey boy shorts or one of her silky nightgowns. The sheet was pulled down to her hips and he admired her naked torso, her firm 36D tits practically defying gravity as they proudly jutted forward as she laid on her side facing towards him. The morning sun glowed on her long brunette hair and he thanked God how such a good looking girl could end up with him. Dan then noticed a couple odd-shaped elongated shadows across one of her breasts; suddenly with appalling dismay he recognized them for what they were—light elongated bruises in the shape of handprints! The previous evening's events came crashing back to him; it had not been a dream, it had been a awful reality as his sleep-clouded mind cleared recalling the previous day: his job in jeopardy; one of his properties on the market being the strip club where his fiancée worked; finding out the company interested in the property belonged to a sleazy adult entertainment organization. Then the ultimate discovery of finding out the company was owned by his childhood rival—Charles DeWight III, known to Dan as Chuck—who had ultimately bought the property and therefore was Jenny's boss. Once Chuck had known Dan was the broker of the two nightclubs he was interested in, he had agreed to the asking price without any haggling. Chuck had always thought of Dan as a friend, so agreed to the price in favor of Dan; however, Chuck was not a true friend, being more the school bully and ultimately Dan's nemesis. Chuck was not purposely mean or intentionally treated Dan bad—he picked on him, but with both their families being friends, it was more of a sibling sort of teasing. The problem was just Chuck always being better at everything they did. He had better grades, he was better at sports, he was even better looking. As such, Dan had always been intimidated by Chuck, so inwardly hated him for the stress he caused. It was not until high school when the DeWight's moved away that Dan realized how humiliating and stressful Chuck's presence had been for him. With Chuck's absence, high school became one of the best times of his life, and it was where he first met Jenny. The next four years were the more memorable ones in Dan's life. Things took a turn for the worse when Dan went to college, randomly meeting Chuck during freshman orientation. Chuck, always believing they were friends, suggested they room together, and due to how Dan had always been intimidated by him, had reluctantly agreed, even eventually joining the same fraternity. The previous past returned, with Dan being in Chuck's shadow as Chuck excelled at everything. They had the same interests in most everything, so had taken the same courses, had the same friends, and went out together. College was depressing enough for him due to Jenny breaking off their relationship. She told him he needed to date other people to be sure they were meant to be together, and that she would accept it if he found somebody else. Dan tried to date a few coeds; however, every girl he had shown an interest in ultimately ended up in Chuck's bed, as they not only had the same interests in school, but the same taste in women. Chuck was only trying to be helpful buying the properties after finding out Dan was the broker, but Dan felt it as a hand-out—regardless of how much it helped him and Jenny financially. Unwillingly he recalled the more intimate happenings of the evening. Chuck was so happy at seeing him after such a long time, he invited Dan to check out the two strip clubs just purchased. Dan, not wanting Chuck to know his fiancée actually worked at one of the clubs, instead found out Chuck would be going to the other club first, so had gone to Jenny's club to pick her up after her shift and avoid seeing Chuck. Unfortunately Chuck had changed his plans, stating his favorite dancers—one whom happened to be Jenny—were working and he did not want to miss them. Finding Dan at the club he had treated him as an honored guest sitting them in one of the best seats in the club. Dan had pretended to not know any of the girls in the club, particularly his own fiancée, even though Jenny had worked there for a couple years and they were all friends. He still did not know why he hid those facts, other than he was trying to protect Jenny. As just a guest at the club things had progressed beyond anything he could imagine. Not aware of any relationship between Jenny and Dan, Chuck as usual wanted to show off to Dan until it came to the point where his nemesis Chuck, Jenny's new boss, had her—or in her stripper persona Diamond—perform the most erotic table dance he had ever seen. As Jenny sat on Chuck's lap sitting right next to Dan—abiding by Dan's indication they did not know each other—Chuck had instructed her to not return from the table dance without an exorbitant tip, suggesting she allow the men to touch her above and beyond the club's 'no hands' rules during lap dances. Jenny had been completely out of character. Although she had been mad at Dan all day and had purposely danced more seductively to customers to make Dan jealous before Chuck had even arrived, in Chuck' presence she was even worse. Ultimately she danced the table nude wearing nothing but a bright red pair of thigh-high leather boots, even allowing one customer to finger her to a climax as she straddled his lap! The evening had only gotten worse as his rival and nemesis escorted his fiancée to a private room and ultimately fucked her. Dan knew this because he had watched the entire scene on the club's security cameras! As the evening again played out in his mind, Dan felt a growing pit of despair fill his stomach, his heart clenching while he wondered what would become of his and Jenny's relationship. Evoking the image and resulting shock and horror of what happened—his fiancée bent over a table while Chuck fucked her from behind—he could not deny having the hardest erection in his life. Even now he was tenting the sheet above him recalling what had happened. Leaving Jenny to sleep in so he could sort out his own feelings, Den went down to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee, his mind in a raging turmoil. He called work and took the day off. At first his boss gave him a hard time about his quota and jeopardizing his position, but Dan quickly explained he had sold both the club properties, informing him Chuck's corporate lawyers would be bringing the signed documents later this week. Once his boss was assured of the sale, he told Dan he had nothing to worry about in terms of a job and to enjoy his day off. Again Dan began thinking about the day before. Instead of emotionally going off the handle, he tried to play Devil's Advocate in his mind and reason the events through. One of the secrets to his and Jenny's relationship was both being able to be very analytical in their thinking, even during times of stress. Instead of getting emotional out of control, they took some time to rationalize and think things through before confronting each other. Even now, having his fiancée cheat right before him with his rival, he forced his emotions back, attempting to not let them control his thoughts. It was a testament to their relationship that this type of reasoning worked, as they rarely fought. Thus far the only argument they never could resolve—his discontent at Jenny stripping at the club—was due to his emotions getting the better of him and refusing to agree to the logical reasons of her being employed there. Every other problem they had ever worked at they typically could resolve. It was obviously difficult to push the image of his fiancée getting fucked by somebody else out of his mind, let alone it being his childhood nemesis, but he eventually was able to think beyond the confusion, betrayal, and anger of the evening. Somehow he was able to force his mind to think through things and plan what to do instead of flying off the handle emotionally. Several things were obvious in his mind, the primary being he was still in love with Jenny and wanted to marry her. Secondly the top action to be resolved was Jenny quitting her job at the club. Now that he had sold the properties, the resulting commissions would be enough for them to get by with their bills for some time without her working, even allowing Jenny to go to school for a better job. As a 'favor' Chuck had not haggled with the asking price of either club, both of which had high asking prices; however, the resulting double commissions meant they could also still plan their wedding. The biggest thing in Dan's mind was getting both of them as far away from Charles DeWight III as possible. Dan was not sure what had caused Jenny to behave the way she did. It was so out of character for her to even dance nude that he could not envisage her doing anything like she had without some external influence. For the few years Jenny had been stripping she had only danced down to panties or a thong. Although nudity was allowed, it was optional for the girls. More to the point, none of the girls went nude in the crowd, not only due to the inability to control stray hands groping them, but to stay within legal limits on what strip clubs could allow. Even with the two large bouncers—Brutus and Gregg—watching everything with an eagle eye, the girls would not have danced nude in a crowd as it would only embolden customers to want to touch them. Some of the girls did nude private dances, as that was a more controlled environment; however, in the public area it was just not done. Jenny going nude—let alone allowing a customer to feel her up, or worse yet allowing her boss to fuck her—was completely abnormal. Chuck always made Dan feel clumsy and awkward, and Dan could never think straight when he was around. He still did not understand why he had not wanted Chuck to know Jenny was his fiancée, and now that things had gone to the point of Chuck having slept with her, he wanted to avoid Chuck finding out more than ever. The die had already been cast so-to-speak; they could only try to clean up the predicament that had been caused. It had always been an odd relationship between the two guys growing up together in childhood. Again Chuck's actions were never done intentionally to undermine Dan, it was just Chuck never saw beyond his own satisfaction first, ignoring anybody else but himself. Chuck was Dan's natural rival and competitor, and after they had graduated college, Dan had moved away at once get Chuck out of his life and settle down with Jenny. The last four years things had been happy, the physical distance putting Chuck out of his mind—only to have him re-enter his life not only as a customer, but again his nemesis. Dan had felt all the old feelings of humility, shame, and intimidation the second he heard Chuck's voice. And as true to the past, Chuck had humbled Dan, proving he was more successful financially and unwittingly proving he could out-trump Dan by fucking his fiancée! Chuck had always bragged in college how he slept with girls before Dan, so Chuck finding out he had fucked Dan's fiancée would be the ultimate humiliation to Dan. Still, Dan could not lay all the blame on Chuck or even Jenny; he was man enough to recognize he had an integral part in what transpired. If he had not indicated to people at the club—and Jen in particular—he did not know them the whole circumstances probably could have been avoided. He knew not even Chuck would have done anything with Jenny if he had known she was Dan's fiancée. For all of Chuck's competitiveness with Dan, some lines were not crossed. Now things had progressed to the point where admitting anything would only cause further embarrassment. Things had gone farther than any of Dan's worst nightmares; if he told the truth now, the ultimate humiliation would be Chuck knowing he had once again fucked a girl Dan had wanted. No, the only way things could possibly work out would be to have Jen quit her job and go to school for a more respectable job. They could then get married and put all this behind them, never having to deal with Charles DeWight III again. The phone ringing in the kitchen broke his circuitous train of thoughts. Looking at the Caller ID he saw it was John, the bartender from the club. Answering the phone, John's voice immediately started talking over the receiver, "Jesus fucking Christ Dan, I am so sorry for last night," he told him. "I had no idea what Mr. DeWight was up to," he said apologetically. Before Dan could get in a word he continued, "Fuck, Mr. DeWight had given us bartenders some vitamin-energy shit to mix with the girls' drinks. He said it was to keep them perky and prevent them from getting drunk and keep them in shape. Fuck, it wasn't until after seeing Jen last night that Mary tried it...and fuck Dan, we think the shit was Ecstasy of some other shit," he said. Dan abruptly remembered Jen telling him John was currently dating Mary—stage-name Kitten—and that Mary had a history of drugs. If anybody could tell what a drug was based upon the effects, it would be her. "Wait, what are you saying?" Dan asked, John's words finally gaining meaning. "Fuck Dan, we were told to put that shit in all the girls' drinks from now on—some sort of 'DSA' bullshit policy. Whatever it was, Mary still hasn't come down on the shit, wanting to cuddle right here on the couch, naked as a jay bird," John said. "We were not to give the girls any watered down drinks any longer as well. Mr. DeWight told us Divine Satin's clubs gave girls full drinks so customers got what they paid for. That vitamin-energy shit was supposed to help keep them sober during their shift," John's voice said over the phone. "What I'm saying is Jen behaving the way she did last night was not her fault, fuck, I'll be surprised if between the drinks and that shit in them she even knew what was going on when she was doing her table dance last night," he said rapidly. "I'm just saying don't blame Jen for behaving the way she did," he said. Again Dan could not get in a word as John continued, "And fuck, what happened in the back?" he asked. "I saw Gregg take a break, so figured you went back to the Security Room, I know it's none of my business," he asked. Jenny had worked at the club for so long, and knowing of Dan's unease at her stripping, she had worked it out so he could sit in the Security Room where all the private rooms were recorded to know nothing happened. Before he could even answer, John continued, "But fuck, Mr. DeWight came back after talking to Jen like a fucking Cheshire Cat saying she had signed on as the club's spokes girl. What the fuck happened, I know Jen had been putting him off all month and was thinking of quitting so you two could settle down, so what happened to change her mind?" he said. Dan opened his mouth to try and give some answer as John continued before Dan could get in a word edgewise, "And DeWight took all the security tapes from the room after you and Jen left. Hell, right now there's a security group in the club replacing cameras and the whole system because Mr. DeWight said the resolution on the tapes was too poor with the previous set up, saying something about wanting to make sure he got his investment's worth," he babbled. John was talking so hurriedly Dan could barely comprehend what he was saying, wondering if John was high as well, but after a few minutes he figured out the gist of things. He knew from both Mary and Jen's reactions to the drinks they got last night they had been not watered down, but now he knew they had also been spiked in some way, possibly explaining why Jen had behaved the way she was. At that moment, Jen walked into the kitchen. She had put on a loose half-top camisole and lacey boy-shorts, barely meeting Dan's stare at her. For all his tumultuous thoughts, one thing was clear—she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and he loved her more than life itself. Although loose, the thin camisole outlined her nipples beautifully, and her flat stomach and long toned legs looked spectacular in the morning light shining through the kitchen. John's voice said something over the phone, repeating it when Dan did not reply, asking if Jen was around. Dan handed her the phone and watched as John apparently told her what had happened, her eyes opening wide at the discovery of being drugged by her boss. Eventually hanging up the phone, she muttered, "That fucking asshole." Looking over at Dan, she lowered her gaze, "Honey, I'm so sorry..." she started, but Dan interrupted her. "Look, it's as just my fault as yours, I would rather we not dwell on it and instead try to get things worked out so we can put this behind us," he told her. Jen was silent for a few moments before nodding. "How the hell do you know him?" she asked finally. Dan got her coffee and they sat down as he explained to her who Chuck was. Although he had mentioned his rival before, Jen had never known the full story. Her sudden realization at him being Dan's childhood rival and her sleeping with him caused her to break down and cry, disgraced at what had happened. "Look, I don't want to dwell on you making love to another man," Dan started to say before Jen cut him off. "Let's get this straight, there is only one man I have ever made love to and he's right here in this room. What happened last night was me not only getting drugged, but fucked plain and simple. Chuck fucking DeWight fucked me after fucking drugging me," she said, her words full of vehemence. "Basically I was raped. You of all people should know I would not have done anything like that," she cried. Dan reached out and held her as she continued to cry, asking him to forgive her while he kept reassuring her after finding out the facts, there being nothing to forgive. After several minutes she finally composed herself and they sat down and talked about everything else besides the end result. Dan explained his surprise at Chuck being the perspective buyer of the clubs and how things had escalated with his stupidity in pretending to not know anybody at the club, particularly Jen. "I should have told you last month Willie told us he was selling the place to a franchise company," Jen told him quietly. Willie Johnson had been just the latest in a stream of owners of the club of the past couple years, but he had made the club successful, hiring only good looking girls and keeping the place clean and upscale. Jen continued, "We met Mr. DeWight a couple weeks ago. I didn't want you to worry about me not working since that's what always happens with a new owner. I particularly didn't think it worth mentioning since Mr. DeWight told us he would not be doing any major renovations to the club and we would all be keeping our jobs," she said. Dan also apologized, admitting he had done the same thing to her—knowing the club had been up for sale and even him brokering it; his reasons were the same as Jen's, the primary intention of not having the other worry about money, paying bills, or the possibility of her being out of work. At that point they agreed to never hide anything from the other again, regardless of the best intentions. For all that had happened, Dan had never felt closer to Jen than this moment. Jen agreed with Dan's thoughts, she needed to quit her job as soon as possible, that with his commissions they could not only plan the wedding but she could look into classes for some sort of other work. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 02 Suddenly her face went pale as her eyes opened, "Fuck, I signed a contract!" she exclaimed. She told Dan how Chuck had taken an immediate interest in her when he had met all the girls last month. Dan was not surprised by this, as Chuck's and Dan's tastes in women were similar. To his own chagrin he recalled how Chuck had always ended up with any girls Dan had been interested in when in college. As with most things Chuck did better than Dan, it was not anything intentional, just something that naturally seemed to happen. And last night, without Chuck even knowing he was doing it yet again, he had fucked Dan's own fiancée as naturally as he had every other girl. Dan pushed down the jealousy he began feeling. Seeing his crestfallen face, Jen asked what he was thinking about and Dan explained. Jen immediately started tearing up again apologizing. "I don't know what happened, one minute I was sitting with you and Mr. DeWight all worried, and then suddenly I felt like I was the happiest person alive. I became electrified, not having a care in the world. I thought it was too many of the strong drinks, but that doesn't explain how nice it felt when Mr. DeWight touched me," she confided. She explained how his feeling her thigh and eventually rubbing her crotch through her pants—right in front of Dan no less—made her want to be even closer to him. "I was incredibly hot too," she explained, "almost like a fever, so when he took off my shorts, it did not even seem strange. In fact, it was why I eventually took my thong off as well. Sitting on the other guys' laps felt so cool, and them touching me made me want to be closer to them. I'm so sorry," she said. "I just wanted them to touch me more, I can't explain it—I knew it was not something I would do, but the feeling was so intense, I just had to let them," she explained. Dan had never done drugs, let alone Ecstasy, but from what little he read it was obvious Jen had felt the effects in some fashion, confirming John's suspicions. "It just seemed so natural to allow them to touch me," she told him reluctantly. "I'm so sorry Honey," she sobbed. Again Dan reassured her he was trying to get over it, finally confessing in some fashion it had been a turn-on watching her. "Yeah, I noticed you were not your usual self last night either," she smiled. "I can honestly say you fucked me good and hard," she grinned with him. "That's the only thing I don't regret," she winked. Jen told him how Chuck had been urging her to sign a long-term contract to be the 'spokesmodel' of the club ever since meeting them, explaining how she would be earning top dollar for her appearances and become well-off as a Divine Silk Attractions representative. He said her face would be on national advertisements and she would get top billing at any club. She had refused him each time, telling him she was only dancing to earn enough to get by, and not interested in anything further. Chuck's persistence grew each visit, telling her of all the money she could make and the fame of being one of the top performers for the company. Chuck had visited the club at least a couple times a week. In fact, it was amazing Dan had not met up with him before now, as they obviously had skirted each other countless numbers of times. Chuck had always left the club before Jen's shift ended, which was the time Dan typically arrived. Dan presumed Chuck had been doing the same thing at the Slithering Lizard, the other club he had purchased. Dan reluctantly told her what his company's investigative report revealed, and Jen almost flew in a rage at the implications of what Chuck had been trying. "That slimy son-of-a-bitch," she muttered. "Fuck, what did I get into signing that last night?" she asked in horror. Dan reasoned since she had signed the contract under the influence it would not hold up in any court, but Jen was still concerned. They agreed she needed to talk to Chuck as soon as possible and give her final notice. Dan offered to go with her, but even Jen admitted it would be better to keep Dan's relationship with her and his familiarity with the club quiet. As with his reasoning, if things worked out, Chuck could just write her off as another one of his dancers he fucked and not his 'friend's' fiancée. Although Jen was not due to dance again until tomorrow, she usually went in every afternoon to help a few of the girls with their routines—afternoons the only time they club was empty for them to practice as the cleaning crews were usually there in the mornings. She planned on talking to Chuck as soon as she went in, since he had been slowly moving into Willie's old office. It was the first thing he had redecorated in the club she told Dan, admitting he had done a good job. For the last two weeks Chuck had been working at the club during the days—again Dan upset Jen had not told him, although she had not known who he was, and it would be a good time to sit down and talk to him. With little for them to do, they made the best of things and enjoyed their morning together. With the potential commissions for the two clubs' purchases coming soon, they worked on their wedding plans, actually getting all the invitations done before Jen had to leave. She was going to drop them off in the mail on the way to the club. They were both excited, they would finally be announcing the date and in two months from that weekend they would become one. Dan was watching television when Jen came down to go to work. Today she was wearing a tight bright pink satin two-pieced set. The top was a vest-like halter consisted of a low plunging neckline showing off Jen's cleavage to its utmost potential. The vest-like top rode high around her shoulders in a faux collar and Dan knew when she turned around, there was a sexy racer back, as he was the one who had picked out the outfit. The top had three silver breakaway snaps up the middle pulling it tight around Jenny's torso. The bottoms were matching hot shorts with similar snaps up the front of each thigh. Completing the outfit were a pair of 6-inched heeled clear platform shoes with a matching pink ribbon wrapping around her legs up to her knees. The girls had learned early in their careers to practice in their 'work clothes' as it often helped to know how the outfits would look and behave when doing their routines. All of them had shared horror stories of wardrobe malfunctions, when you were doing an intricate flip or twirl on the pole the last thing you needed was a stray piece of cloth falling under your heels! Jen looked amazing—which was one of the reasons Dan hated her working at the club. With her long brunet hair and tall 5'10" curvy athletic 36D-24-34 body she was every man's fantasy. Dan recalled somebody telling them she looked like Adrienn Levai, a Hungarian model, and they had looked her up and been amazed how Jen and the model could have been doubles. Since Dan was home for the day Jen would be able to drive to work, so did not have to wear any street clothes to the club. She had her usual tote bag of cosmetics, music CD's, Wet Wipes, and extra thongs in her hand, and giving Dan a quick kiss, said goodbye. Dan wished her luck with Chuck wondering how they guy could possibly turn down the beautiful woman walking out the door. The afternoon was uneventful as Dan watched a few TiVo'd movies he had missed, but then the anal retentiveness of his job caught up with him and he read through his work e-mail. He was surprised to find zipped files of all the proper documentation for both clubs sent by Chuck's company, with promises of the hard copies being FED EX'd at the same time. The speed at which the documents had been provided was unusual, and Dan wondered how long Chuck had been thinking of buying the clubs, as there was no way all these documents could have been done just this morning. He again came across the review by his office's investigative service and read it again. Now that he knew who the head of the company was, things made a little more sense—knowing Chuck the way he had. He woke up to the front door unlocking, realizing he had fallen asleep reading reports and watching a movie. Hearing Jen coming into the room, he got up from the couch and moved to give her a hug. When she entered, Dan just stopped and stared. Normally Jen's days off were spent helping the girls and practicing her own routines in the afternoon. The practice sessions were not very vigorous and typically she was home in a couple hours. Having taken both belly dancing and pole dancing classes after high school for exercise, she was one of the best dancers in the club, so it was not unusual for her to help the other girls out. It was one of the things Jen loved about the club, there were no bad attitudes amongst the girls—they all got alone and helped each other out as much as possible. When she came home from these sessions, she typically looked as good as when she left, as she typically did not need to practice as much. Not because she was so good, but that she had Dan install a pole in their garage for her to practice on during the days. As such, she typically did not do much other than demonstrate a few moves to the girls and critique them. Seeing Jen come into the room, Dan first noticed her hair all messed up, as if she had spent the entire time dancing. It was a look he was familiar with as it was exactly how she came home on work nights. Normally for practice the girls wore their hair in pony tails or such, letting it down once and a while to practice, but keeping it out of the way for the most part. It was unlike working nights when they were spinning around and constantly waving their hair around. The next thing he noticed was her wearing both facial and body make-up, again as if she had worked. The girls never wore make-up during practice sessions—there was no need since they were not performing. Yet Jen was not only wearing her thick mascara and lip gloss, but also her body foundation and perfume. The final thing he noticed was her scant outfit was wrinkled and dirty. Again, since she did not do much during practice days, the outfit would typically look the same as when she left compared to working nights when clothes were thrown on the floor when dancing, sometimes getting stepped on or drinks spilled on before the dancer was done with their set. It was one reason they often had spare outfits at the club for the nights they worked. "What happened?" Dan started to ask when Jen moved to him and took him in her arms, giving him a deep kiss, her tongue ramming into his mouth as kissed her back in surprise. There were many nights when Jen would get horny from dancing. For her it was often a strong turn-on dancing and teasing men, and on good nights where it was a big crowd the 'after-work-sex' Dan called it had been awesome. But Jen had never been this aggressive after work, let alone following a practice session. As Jen's tongue twirled in his mouth, he could taste the faint hint of cigarettes and alcohol. Then he noticed the cigarette smell in her hair as well as a smell of what he though was sawdust as she rubbed her body against him. Although Dan would normally be excited and not turn Jen away with the mood she was obviously in, it was definitely not expected at this time. Breaking her way reluctantly, he looked her over. She looked like a stripper who had been ridden hard and put up wet—a colloquialism he had often joked about on how she looked after a long night of dancing. "What happened?" he repeated again. "Did you talk to Chuck? Why do you smell like you worked all night?" he said. Jen gave him one more kiss and finally catching her breath , rubbed her face, then her ass and back of her thighs like she did after one of her long workouts. Finally she plopped on the couch. "Well," Jen said, after finally composing herself, "first of all no, I did not get to talk to Mr. DeWight," she said. "Apparently he is out of town until tomorrow so I'll hopefully catch him before my shift," she answered. Dan got her a tall glass of ice water which she gratefully accepted. He again could not believe how hot she looked—Dan was not opposed to his fiancée dressing slutty around him, it was dancing in front of other guys that bothered him. Seeing Jen in her current state stirred his blood as he tried to listen to what happened. ******************** When Jen arrived at the club she was surprised at how full the parking lot was. The club was closed during the day, so it was unusual to see more than a couple cars from the girls there for practice or the guys cleaning and restocking the bar. Today there were all sorts of commercial trucks, the decals on the doors ranging from a security company to carpeting to carpentry to plumbing. Parking near the back and entering in the rear door—which most of the girls used to avoid overly attentive customers—Jen was immediately met by a cacophony of construction sounds—hammering, buzz saws, sanders, and drills echoing through the club. Over all of it she heard the speakers playing through one of their dance tracks. "What the hell is going on?" she asked Mary as she entered the dressing room. Oddly Mary was putting on make-up as if it was a work night, but Jen knew Mary did not work for another two days. Most of the girls worked four nights a week; everybody worked either Friday, Saturday, or both, and then two days the rest of the week. The weekends were the club's busiest times, so all the girls could make decent earnings. Mary looked up at Jen and rolled her eyes, "Charles DeWight the Third is what is going on. Apparently his comment about 'not changing the club or doing any renovations' did not cover completely gutting the club and putting in new furniture, carpeting, even a new sound system. There are fucking workers everywhere," she said. Jen could understand some of Mary's indignation. The afternoons were the girls' time. They could relax, practice their routines, and just talk about their days and stuff going on their lives. Any interruption to that flow would cause people to be upset. "What's with the make-up?" she asked as Mary started spraying her hair, again like it was a work night. "So fucking get this," Mary said slamming the bottle of hairspray down on the counter. "Mr. DeWight left a message that with the girls practicing and the workers here, it would be nice for our routines to have come critiques, so we're to fucking dance for them!" she complained. "What?" Jen said in surprise, "You're fucking kidding me. We're not even on the clock, where is that asshole, I've already got a few things to say to him," Jen said, her ire now riled. It was one thing to interrupt their normal routine with renovations, but to demand they actually perform when they were not even scheduled to work was another thing. And then it hit her on who they were expected to perform for. The Satin Kitty was one of the more high-scaled clubs. As such, it attracted a nicer clientele than most strip clubs like the Slithering Lizard, which had a more 'middle-class' clientele. The $30.00 cover alone typically kept out some of the riff-raff, and Brutus enforced the dress code relentlessly at the door. Based on what Mary said, these were nothing but typical construction workers—meaning loud, crude, and generally not the crowd she wanted to dance in front of. "Save your anger for when he's here girl," Mary smiled. "Apparently our illustrious boss had to fly to New York and won't be back until tomorrow. In the meantime, he reminded us of our fucking contracts and that we no longer had 'working hours.'"' Marry said, forming quotes in the air with her fingers. "What the fuck does that mean?" Jen asked. "It means," Denise's voice came from behind her as she came into the door. Jen noticed she was also decked out as if for a work-night. Although Denise did work tonight, she typically would go home after practice before coming back and getting made up before her shift. Jen looked at her as she continued, "It means that we are now salaried employees and not independent contractors," she said with obvious disgust. "According to our illustrious boss, our contracts state we are at his beck and call to perform at his whim," Mary said. "Bullshit," Jen said, "I don't remember anything about that!" she said adamantly. "Well, I don't know about your contract," Denise said, "seeing as you're the new DSA covergirl," she grinned. None of the girls had begrudged Mr. DeWight's plan making Jen the club's spokesperson. In fact, they would have been happy for her if she was planning on being around; however, they knew she would be leaving soon. "And can you tell your supposedly best friend how the hell that came about, what the fuck? I thought you were quitting so you and Dan could settle down to the boring life of an administrative assistant," she said. Denise had always joked to Jen on how she made more money stripping than being some corporate's 'beck and call' girl, although she could understand Jen wanting to settle down with Dan. Mary looked at her knowingly, shaking her head. "It's a long fucking story," Jen said. "Let's just say I did it under duress and I am going to be talking to him about tearing the thing up," she told the girls. "Good luck with that," Denise said, sitting down and starting to fix up her hair. "Anyways, the bottom line is we were given directions that we would be practicing with an audience until they were done with everything. They are replacing the security, sound, carpeting and even the furniture and decorations. There's construction guys everywhere," Denise said. "The bottom line is John and Brutus were told to inform us to do our full routines for them." "Wait," Jen said, "we're supposed to strip for them too? What the fuck?" she said now seeing why the girls were pissed. "Yup, and get this, we're to do it with the fucking houselights on because they're 'working,' can you believe that shit?" Mary said. Now Jen understood why the girls were putting on their make-up, even more than usual. The dark and neon lights when working hid a lot of things. A little bit of cover-up could hide the ugliest scars and make wrinkles and bruises disappear. The dark and shadows also hid a bit of pudginess here and there, or other blemishes that the girls may have had. "Well what if we say no?" Jen asked. "Brutus said Mr. DeWight had an answer to that as well. Since it would be a 'breach of contract' he could fine us all $500 for refusing a 'promotional engagement,'" Mary said with disgust. Jen was as pissed off as the other two girls as Janice and Jemisha came in. "Yo girlfriends, what's up?" Jemisha asked. Gen came into the dressing room right then with the same question, so Mary and Denise explained to them what they just told Jen. "No fucking way am I dancing in daylight to a bunch of blue-fucking-collar assholes," Gen said. The girls told her about the contract and fine that could be imposed. Mr. DeWight had told them of DSA's policy for girls to be employees instead of independent contractors. The benefits, he told them, outweighed the hassle as they would no longer need to pay house fees to dance, have worker's compensation, and even insurance. They would now be labeled as 'professional entertainers' on a salary. In addition they could keep any and all tips they earned, though they were required a certain quota of table dance fees they had to pay to the house. At first the girls had baulked at the changes, but as they looked at things a few nights later, they realized they would actually be earning a steady income instead of having to work their asses off. Even a bad night paid the same, other than the extra income of tips. They lost out on their previous percentage of table fee cuts, but once a weekly paycheck with insurance was factored in, it actually came out ahead for them. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 02 The problem, as they finally discovered, were the various and sundry 'fines' imposed in their contract for not doing their quota of table dance fees, tardiness, and whatnot. The threat of fining them for not dancing was just another issue that made them wonder if they had all done the right thing by agreeing to sign contracts. Jen's contract was slightly different being the spokesmodel; however, she hoped some things such as the fines and such were similar to the girls. Even so, the bottom line was none of them could afford $500 for refusing to dance. In the end they still needed the practice, so resigned themselves to the inevitable as they all began applying make-up. Brutus came in shortly. "Sorry girls, I know this is bullshit springing all this on you," he said with obvious remorse. "Mr. DeWight said he was not planning on being out of town and would have told you things to yourselves so you could vent to him, but..." he trailed off. The girls reassured him they were not angry at him. "Don't shoot the messenger," Mary told him. Brutus reluctantly looked at them, "Well, I have one more bit of bad news," he said. "What, he wants one of us to fuck them?" Jemisha said angrily. Brutus held up his hands, "Girls, what you do in private is your own business, long as you're not caught," he said. Even before Willie had been a manager he had turned a blind eye to a few of the girls performing 'extras' on the side. "No, but Mr. DeWight said he does not want anybody to leave practice until you have all averaged $300 in tips," he said, ducking behind the door. "WHAT!" the girls yelled at once. "Are you fucking kidding us," Gen said, "we have to work the fucking floor too?" she said. "I thought we were only supposed to do our routines," she glared at Brutus. "Don't shoot the messenger!" Brutus held up his hands, repeating Mary's previous response. "Trust me, me and Tim don't like it either," Brutus said, mentioning one of the other bartenders who worked at the club. "In fact, we've already talked it over and are planning to hit the bank in a bit and help you. We're not happy about this any more than you are," he said. Jen could not believe the generosity of the two guys. This was why she loved working at this club—it was more of a family than a working atmosphere, something she would miss when she left. "That's nice guys, but we can't owe you money, you know most of us can't afford that," she told him. "Trust me, it's on the house, no debts, this is family," he said smiling at the girls. All of the guys had been the 'big brothers' of the girls. Not only had the bouncers looked out and protected them from drunken assholes during the nights, but all of them had helped the girls at some time or another—bailing Mary out of jail when she was still into drugs, helping Gen with a down payment on a car, if the girls needed rescuing out of any circumstance, they were there to help. Gen had once tried to pay them back, only to find her checks uncashed or returned until she finally accepted it and stopped trying to reimburse them. "Hell, how do we know these mother fuckers even have $1800 on them," Denise said. How many are out there. Brutus looked a bit ashamed, "Actually it's an even $2000," he said looking over at Jen. "Jen being the spokesgirl of the club is supposed to earn $500," he said, making a move to duck behind the door again. "Fucking asshole!" Jen said, "Meaning Mr. DeWight, not you Brouhaha," she said, using her nickname for the large man. The girls and Brutus talked about what was expected of them, but the bottom line was they had to do it. None of them wanted to owe Brutus or Tim anything, and they had six hours to 'work the floor' and make what they could. "Hopefully we can get them to demand a few table dances and we'll be all set," Jen said after she calmed down, only to see Brutus shaking his head. "What?" she asked. "We were told this had to be tips only, no house charges," he told them, not even bothering to hide at the bad news. Again the girls went in an uproar. It was one thing to demand them to work when they were not scheduled, but then deny one of the things that helped earn enough cash to meet this so-called 'goal' was another. Table dances typically were $30.00, with the girls possibly earning another $20.00 or so in tips if the table was crowded. They may have been initially upset at having to make $300, but that meant only three or four table dances and two sets each to make that much money. To take that away mean they were going to have to work their asses off for tips. "I need a fucking drink," Mary suddenly said, calling on the house phone for Tim to bring her a vodka and tonic—without the tonic. The other girls yelled out their orders too, Jen reluctantly a vodka on the rocks. The girls always drank during practice—nothing watered down either, so this was not unusual. As mad as they were, they all needed to loosen up a bit realizing it was going to be a long afternoon. "And make them doubles," Mary said as she hung up the phone. When Tim came in with everybody's drinks the girls looked at him in surprise. Normally a drink would be in a smaller Old Fashion glass, even a double vodka on the rocks like Jen and Mary drank would have fit in the glasses; however, the tray Tim carried in was full of highball glasses filled to the brim. "Sorry girls, with the bar all in shambles these are the only glasses I could get to—and from the sound of things, you need them," he smiled, setting down the tray and handing out the drinks. Even though twice the size the girls gulped the drinks down quickly, showing how upset they were at the afternoon's surprises. The drink was both cold and warm to Jen's stomach as she downed her drink along with the other girls. Typically she would nurse a drink until the ice was melted; however, as with the other girls, she needed the reinforcement. She would be feeling a buzz fairly soon, particularly once they started dancing and her blood started pumping from exertion. She only hoped she did not do something stupid like fall, as they all got ready to file out to the stage, discussing their routines. The girls brought CD's with them for practice—this was the perfect time to see if a new song worked with a routine or not. Often a song on the radio would sound great to have in a set, only to start dancing to it and realize it was too slow, too fast, or just a difficult beat to get into rhythm. With them actually working the floor, they realized they could not practice, expected to put on a full set. As such they needed to tell Gary, the DJ who manning the booth and getting ready for the evening, which sets they wanted. "Uh, there's one more thing," Brutus said before the girls could leave the room. Immediately the girls glared at him as he held up his hands. "Damnit girls, this is NOT my idea...but I was told it was my job to instruct you all what was expected," he pleaded. "Just fucking get out with it," Mary said, "None of us have the patience any longer," she said to him, the other girls nodding in agreement. "Well, it's just," Brutus faltered, "Damnit, this is not my idea, but I was told to treat this like a private party," he said, "since none of the guys actually paid a cover," he said dejectedly. Jen wondered if the drinks were taking their affect earlier, as the girls just moaned, but after so many demands and shit going down this afternoon, it was just par for the course. What Brutus had just informed them of was he would be treating this as if it was a private party or one of the VIP rooms. Basically he would not be intervening if somebody groped one of the girls 'inadvertently' or even blatantly unless they notified him. Public decency laws did not cover private parties, so he was telling the girls to expect more 'touchy feely' than usual. Jen recalled last night when she had been basically told the same thing by Mr. DeWight—to allow more groping than usual. As a stripper it was a hazard of the job. Jen had done several private bachelor parties where the guys had been all hands, and even the VIP booths were more physical in attention, so it was not something too unusual for her in her line of work. She never told Dan about the intimate groping, as he worried enough about her just dancing. On the nights he visited and she knew he was in the Security Booth she made sure the guys kept their place. No, the problem with her last night—beyond being drugged to dance nude in the first place—was allowing the groping in front of Dan. There were times she enjoyed the added attention, knowing men wanted her was a big turn-on. Even as committed and in love with Dan as much as she was and would never have cheated on him, there was something she loved about the raw lust in a man's eyes as they reached for you after seducing them with your body. It was one of the many personal reasons she enjoyed stripping, although she had never admitted that to Dan. Despite the turn-on of being groped, she would not have gone as far as she had last night, even without Dan. A friendly grope of your ass or 'accidentally' bumping your tit was one thing, but having somebody get you off was entirely out of her normal behavior. It made more sense knowing she had been drugged, allowing a stranger to finger fuck her to orgasm, which made her even more pissed off. Even presenting this as a private party she could at least control things better, particularly by not being nude like last night. Dancing that close to a guy nude only urged them on—even the girls that did go full nude during their sets limited VIP rooms to topless only. In addition, Brutus was not going to ignore helping the girls if the men got out of line, he was still there to keep track of things, it just was with a bit more leniency. Jen finished lacing up her ribbon-strapped sandals—having worn tennis shoes into the club—and stood up, briefly catching her balance. She felt a warm feeling in her lower stomach realizing the drink was hitting her already as the girls made their way to the DJ booth. Not having prepared a set, she told Gary to just 'mix it up' for her and he nodded in understanding. Although the girls gave their lists to Gary and George—the two DJ's who manned the booth—on what they wanted to play, sometimes the songs would change on-the-fly depending on the crowd. For example, last night George had played a slower set for Gen as he knew her bee-bop set would not go over with the guys who were at the club. Sometimes the girls had additional back-up sets for just such occasions, but the guys also had a mix of different songs they would play. It was just part of the job for the girls to be prepared for something unusual during their routines as the DJ's could get a better feel of what the crowd liked. There were even times when requests for a particular song were made for a particular girl. Jen was telling Gary to play from his mix, hoping he did not pick anything too hard to dance, recalling one time when one of the guys had played an opera concerto as a joke for Mary—which she had pulled off perfectly, she smiled. "Gentlemen!" Gary's voice came over the sound system after the girls told him what sets they wanted. "We have a rare opportunity to give you a Satin Kitty exclusive!" he announced. Jen was immediately amazed at the difference in sound coming across the system, realizing Mr. DeWight had been true to his word, replacing the entire sound system. Looking through the curtain by the DJ booth, Jen noted the stage had been completely replaced as well. Two mirrors had been installed on two of the three angled walls replacing the old blackened-grey curtains that had been there even last night. And the back wall was even more surprising, being completely covered by frosted glass tiles with lights shining through them. The glass tiles reminded Jen of the type sometimes in bathrooms. Those were not the only changes, as the stage had been completely redone into a large 'V' with three strip poles—one in center and the other two on the ends. The old stage had been small with only one pole as and Jen realized they would have to think of some three-girl routines to replace the singled and rare double ones they were familiar with. "When the fuck did they do this?" she asked Denise in surprise, who told her the workmen had been there since closing last night to get it completed. Gary's voice came over the sound system again, "While you work hard grinding to give our kittens a nicer lair," he said, a few guys in the crowd laughing at the little joke, "they have agreed to show their appreciation by performing and grinding this afternoon for your entertainment!" Gary's voice finished. Cheers and whistles erupted as Lo Fidelity Allstars' 'Battle Flag' began to play across the speakers, filling up the club with music. Taking their cue, the girls began to file out onto the stage, the club erupting with the familiar shouts and cheers of men. Jen looked around, surprised at how rough-edged the club looked. Carpeting was rolled up all over exposing plywood boards and cement beneath. The bar was empty of bottles and glasses as the sound of electrical sanders came from it, a cloud of dust everywhere. With the lights on, the club looked like some construction zone they had walked into. She could not believe it would be finished by opening that night. The completed changes to the club looked remarkably good, even in their torn up state and in the raw white light. She had to admit Mr. DeWight knew at least how to present a club as she started to move her body to the beat of the song along with the other girls. As the girls filed out onto the stage to the cheers of the guys, Jen looked at the crowd. This was definitely not the typical type of guys they danced for, knowing Gen's comment about blue-collar workers was right on the money. This was the type of crowd seen at the Slithering Lizard—another one of DeWight's clubs he had bought from Dan. Whistles and wolf calls immediately came from all over the club as the girls began to seductively sway to the music on stage. This group of guys was definitely not the quieter crowd they were used to as several crude comments and gestures were shouted out. True to his word, Brutus just stood in the back, not interfering unless things got out-of-hand, just like private parties they had done in the past. Jen strutted out to the new edge of the stage testing its durability as she gyrated and strutted, happy to feel no give in the floor—it was solid without any fear of falling. The other girls followed her lead, spreading out on the stage, all of them undulating to the music. Jen noticed with a small amount of pride her end of the stage was slowly becoming the most crowded as the guys flocked around the stages. Several lewd comments came out around her, not only about how she was wearing too much clothing, but what they wanted to do with her—some of it anatomically impossible, she noted. As a professional girl Jen just smiled, swaying to the music as it played. Typically the first and last songs of the night were performed by all the girls working that evening, so this was normal for them, it was dancing in full light and the crude comments which was different. Whether from the drinks or the raw visceral exposure of no club lighting Jen again felt warmth spread through her body as she did several slow pirouettes around the new pole to the lecherous comments and gazes of the men. She appreciated how well the pole was installed, no longer afraid of putting her full momentum on it as she swayed on stage. The guys around her went crazy as the song came to its ending as Jen finished up with a slow body wave against the pole, her body moving seductively. She noted there were already several dollars thrown on the stage, hoping it would continue. "Gentlemen," Gary's voice came across the fill-in techno music played between songs. "The girls are here to make your workplace more enjoyable," he said to many cheers, "but Mr. DeWight reminds you of your schedule! Also please do not smash a thumb or cut your hand off ogling at the girls dancing for you while you work!" he laughed. Several laughs came from the crowd, while a few began chanting 'show us tits, show us tits' over and over. Gary ignored their comments as he continued his announcing. "I'd like to start you off with our club's own spokesmodel, who will not only amaze you with her beauty, but her body strength on the pole!" he said. Jen realized she was going to be up first and wished she had warmed up a bit more before they came on stage, but slowly walked to the junction of the two stages while the other girls picked up the money off the stage before moving into the crowd. Jen saw another new addition to the stage were steps placed on each side, something the girls had requested years ago. As much as she did not agree with some of Mr. DeWight's policies, she had to admit he knew how to design a club to help the girls out. As Jen was left alone on the stage Gary announced, "The Satin Kitty would like to proudly present the stunning and sparkling Diamond!" Immediately a steady beat of thumping drums and solo guitar started playing as Jen recognized Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's 'Beat the Devil's Tattoo,' silently vowing to cut off Gary's testicles. It was a difficult song to dance for, but Jen realized it at least gave her a chance to warm up. She started doing a few pirouettes around the pole, her steps in time with the beat of the song. Again she admired how well-installed the pole was as she began slowly swaying her hips to the song, grasping the pole above her head and undulating in front of the cheering men. She did a few more body waves against the pole, then a slow fireman's spiral down to the ground where she performed another body wave against the stage, her body making the motions of humping the stage to the yells of the crowd. Jen moved slowly, allowing the guys a good glimpse of her ass pointing in the air as well as her tits hanging below her in her halter top as she undulated her body. She soon recognized another aspect of performing in full light, being able to see everybody's face and gestures. Some guys were licking between their fingers crudely before her while others grabbed their crotches and others just clapped. It was an unusual experience as in the dark the girls may have known they were being ogled, but they could not see due to the lights on stage. It allowed them to distance themselves from the crowd. Now she saw their leers blatantly as she danced before the no longer faceless crowd. The blatant primitiveness of being so exposed made her feel dirty; not that stripping did not do that sometimes, but now, with broad daylight and the crude group of guys, Jen felt sluttier, the behavior of the guys making her wonder how many propositions for 'extras' she was going to get asked before the afternoon was over. Instead of being embarrassed she began to feel the stirrings of her pulse, the exhibitionist side of her gaining momentum. Sliding her hands over her body as she moved, she worked the crowd, feeling their own stirrings in response to hers. The song slowly sped up and she began to do a few other warm-up maneuvers on the pole, undulating and moving her body with the beat of the song. The crowd became even more boisterous as Jen looked out into the crowd, seeing the other girls doing lap dances around the club. She did not see anybody having a hard time other than a few gropes of their asses, affirming the guys were cruder than the usual crowd they danced. Jen felt her blood begin to stir as the beat of the song became more intense, knowing she would soon be out here amongst the crowd as well. She again felt a moment of pride noticing most of the guys in the crowd were more focused on her performing on stage than the girls walking amongst them. With the lights off and just the stage lit, the girls could never anybody, even somebody standing at the stage, the glare obscuring everything but their basic form. Sometimes they had been surprised finding out they had pulled a customer's wife or girlfriend into their cleavage mistaking them for a man—not that it ever caused an issue she smiled. With the lights on she could see everything going on in the club. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 02 Jen did a 360-degree fan around the pole, spreading her legs to the cheering crowd as she flipped over in the air holding herself up by her arms. Keeping her stance and not touching the ground, her arms strained as she pulled her body in, hooking her legs around the pole and ending with a monkey drop, spinning around the pole inverted and dropping down, landing on the stage in a sitting position. Spreading her legs wide in front of the crowd, she smiled as they cheered. Sitting there a few seconds, she then leaned forward, knowing the tight top exaggerated her cleavage as she whipped her head around letting the long tresses of her hair fan around her. Again the full light brought her the opened bluntness of the guys' gazing directly on her body. Jen's feeling of being sultry and desired intensified, the stirrings of lust building slowly within her as she danced. Her nipples were hardening against her top as she let the exhibitionist side of her take over. It was not an unfamiliar feeling as she sometimes would feel this way while working, it was the bared openness of the situation and seeing the deliberate stares of the men causing her to get turned on. Even while Jen's mind roamed, her body kept dancing. Every stripper learned early on to let their body to take control, maintaining a fluid motion even if something else was going on around them or their thoughts were straying. Jen's hips swayed, her body seductively moving in beat to the music. She slowly climbed up the pole, again performing a fan legs maneuver before flipping upside down, her hair cascading to the floor. In this position she knew gravity was displaying her cleavage to full potential as the crowd shouted in response. She lowered herself down, rolling and raising her ass, her hips continuing to sway in beat to the music. Rising up the pole, she did a front hook spin—her back to the pole and ankle wrapped around it for support while her knees were extended—and spun down, again ending up laying on the floor as she performed several body waves. Spreading her legs, Jen did a slow backflip, her tight abdominal muscles raising her ass and legs off the ground by sheer strength. Using the momentum she brought her legs from behind as she ended arched before the crowd with her legs spread. Cheers again erupted as she went to her knees and began humping the stage. Even with her outfit still on money was being thrown across the stage and Jen felt good, less worried about the instructed quota as she let the music flow through her, guiding her routine. She slowly lowered herself until she was completely prone on the stage, rolling onto her stomach and began crawling to the pole, her leg movements exaggerated to show off her ass and covered crotch to the group. The song ended as she came to rest against the pole as the next song, Evanescence's 'Whisper' came on. Jen loved this song. Standing up, she slowly wrapped her body around the pole as the music took over, spinning wildly to the fast introduction of the song. She had done this routine several times, so the fairy jumps, chair spins, and martini spins came naturally as Jen became absorbed into the song. She entered a trance-like state as her body worked the pole, lost in the music. She enjoyed pole exercise and became completely involved with her dancing, no longer even aware of the crowd other than the occasional loud cheers as she performed her maneuvers, her body more an extension of the pole than dancing with it. Jen's body was completely limber now, her routine obviously delighting the crowd. Her body felt more alive, her arousal climbing as she exerted herself, her nipples tightening, thankful she did not planned on stripping down to a thong, having not worn one. The short tight hot pants made one look funny, and she had only been planning on a practice session. She was just glad not to show off her wet crotch. Eventually the song came to its slow end and as it faded away, Jen became aware of her surroundings again, realizing the club was completely silent, not even the sound of construction echoing. Looking up still smiling as the song ended, the room immediately burst into screams as everybody applauded. Several of the girls gave her the 'thumbs up' and Jen realized she must have done one of her better performances, not really remembering exactly what she did, hoping the girls could tell her so she could possible repeat it in the future. She had been completely absorbed with the music. The next song came on—another slow one, so she rose up as Ke$ha's Animal started to play. She felt her arms and legs protest from exertion, knowing she must have done well for them to be like this after one routine as she began to slowly strut up the stage, her hips swaying. It was now time to dance in order to give her arms and legs a rest. She began undulating her body to the slow song, slowly lowering herself into the splits, then fanning them out to the crowd to their resulting roars. Jen felt something hit her crotch and looked down to see one guy crumbling dollars and throwing them directly at her opened legs. Instead of rebuking him, she smiled, slowly moving her right leg up and around until she was bent on her knees her ass and crotch pointing directly towards the guy as she began to shimmy her hips. While she ground her hips she was surprised at feeling a touch on her thigh. Looking beneath her she watched a man's hand slid up her leg. On a normal night, any touching of the girls on stage was taboo; however, with the lessened restrictions for the 'private party' the guys were bolder. Jen continued dancing as the hand slid up—sending a small thrill through Jen's body—then briefly squeezing her covered ass. The guys around them her shouting their approval as she felt the waistband of her shorts pulled slightly and the familiar feel of a dollar being inserted into her shorts as the waistband was let go. Jen immediately rolled to face the crowd, seeing a different guy who had given her the tip. She began dancing towards him, giving her attention to him as all tips deserved. While dancing she looked at her hip seeing he had given her a $10.00 bill. With her previous exertion on the pole, Jen's body was already beginning to perspire, knowing it was causing her skin to get a soft sheen, glowing in the bright white light of the house lights as she lowered to her knees, crawling towards the guy who had tipped her. Reaching the edge of the stage where he was standing Jen rose up to a kneeling position, moving her knees out and in as her torso gyrated with the music. Seeing him smile, she reached behind him, pulling his head into her chest to the loud roars of approval from the guys around him. As expected, immediately more dollars started to get thrown on the stage as Jen began to seriously work the crowd. She continued undulating her body as she moved to the other side of the stage, seductively swaying as she repeated her moves for that side of the stage, only without the big tip as the song ended. Looking around Jen again noticed most of the guys were watching her, even though a few of the girls were topless and dancing for them. It was then Jen realized she was on her fourth song without even taking off her top, having been too absorbed in the music. Looking around she saw quite a few tips on the stage already, but knew what was expected of her as she felt her blood speed up in preparation to flashing herself to the crowd. When the song ended Jen was afraid of another slow song, hoping Gary mixed things up as a siren began to play, recognizing Pussycat Dolls' 'When I Grow Up' remix. Jen quickly stood up, strutting to the middle of the stage as her hips swayed exaggeratedly. She now moved faster, her body rolling as she jerked her head back and forth letting her hair fan around her as her hands slid over her body, squeezing her breasts to the crowd's obvious delight. She bent down, putting her hand over her crotch as she flexed her ass, jutting her crotch up and down before them before standing up and facing them, getting ready for the refrain which started out "When I grow up..." Jen continued to jerk her hips forward, her hands roaming over her body as she danced, sometimes dropping to the floor in splits, sometimes slowly grinding on the stage. As the refrain began Jen prepared herself for the quick phrase of "I want to have boobies" came on, ripping the front of her vest open and flashing her tits to the crowd, quickly pulling it back to cover her as the throng erupted in cheers and groans. Smiling at them she turned around, popping her butt as she moved her shoulders and waist. Again when the refrain came across "I want to have boobies" she spun around, quickly flashing the crowd before pulling the halves of her top closed yet again. This time Jen let go of the top, letting it simply hang across her breasts. As she danced, the movements of her arms and body caused the top to part and periodically flash the crowd. When the solo portion came on, Jen undulated until it ended, working the vest off her shoulders and throwing it to the stage to the crowd's obvious pleasure. She now strutted down the stage, her firm breasts swaying as she danced. Running her hands up her body, she almost gasped when she slid them across her nipples—they were more sensitive than usual—and she again felt her body stirring in arousal from dancing in front of the guys. Jen moved to the other end of the 'V' of the stage, continuing to dance, letting both sides watch her equally—one of the tricks of earning decent tips was never alienate the crowd. Jen's hands were over her body as her hips jerked in seductive motions as the song began to unwind. Jen waited for Gary's voice announcing her name, an indication of the set coming to an end when it blended into another song, The Dream's 'Panties To the Side' starting off with "Let me fuck you baby" blaring through the speakers. Jen was surprised as she had already done four songs for a full set and was topless, but let her body move with the song as she moved to the main pole. Glancing at the DJ booth, Gary waved his finger around his head telling her it was a request as she mentally shrugged, moving to the sensual beat of the crude song. Jen gyrated around the pole, hearing several shouts of 'take it off' indicating they wanted her nude, but Jen did not dance nude—the night before was more than enough for her. Yet as she swayed, her body became even more aroused as the crowd's chants became more persistent. While dancing seductively, Jen observed a man approach the stage, waving towards her. Dropping down, she crawled to her as her tits swayed beneath her. Reaching the guy at the end of the stage and expecting a tip, he instead fanned out a wad of cash, yelling to her over the music. "A hundred for the bottoms," he said, pointing to the cash on the stage. Jen's eyes opened wide, feeling a flush across her body as she rocked her body to the song, seeing and counting ten ten-dollar bills on the stage. She slowly shook her head but the guy remained standing there as she danced. Getting up, Jen noted Mary on the other side holding up a tip—obviously from one of the shyer guys in the crowd. It was not uncommon for somebody to ask another dancer to give a tip—particularly in the hopes of seeing them dance together. As Mary pushed the money—a five dollar bill Jen noted—into Jen's waistband she pulled Jen towards her, pressing their tits together for the crowd's approval. Meanwhile she whispered into Jen's ears, "These are bunch of fucking tight wads, we barely have a hundred bucks between us. Whatever you can do to rile up this crowd, it needs to be done," she said, pulling away from Jen after they exchanged a brief kiss to the roaring applause of the crowd. Jen slowly moved back up to dance in the middle of the stage, her mind in turmoil. The club had well over fifty guys present, and yet after one set they had barely collected $100—when the goal was $2000! Jen felt despondent as she spun around the pole. Coming to a stop facing the crowd, she again saw the guy in the middle, the fan of bills still on the stage as he pointed to it. Jen realized they needed every single tip, coming to the only inevitable conclusion. As the final refrain came on, Jen slowly looked at the guy standing on the stage. Her attention solely focused on the man, the song's refrain came across the speakers as she swayed her hips, meeting his eyes... Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 02 The rude guy from before looked up, glaring at her, "You're here to make the time pass quickly while we finish this job. We have a deadline, so please do your job and we'll do ours," he said. "How about you make things go quicker and show those fabulous tits of yours?" he said. Once again Jen was shocked at his rudeness, slightly miffed at his attitude. As the song came to an end, she told him, "You don't work for free, neither do I," she said getting ready to leave. The guy smiled, "Now that's what I wanted to hear," he said. "Here's twenty bucks, it's yours if by the end of the next song that top is in my lap," he leered. Jen thought about their need to raise more money, so replied, "Make it fifty and you have a deal." The guy laughed, "Greedy bitch, aren't you, I'll make it thirty, otherwise go find somebody else," he said, getting back to working. Jen saw one of the other guys shrug at her apologetically as Britney Spears' 'I'm a Slave 4 U' began playing. Resigning herself to at least making that much, she began dancing to all the guys' smiles. Jen began a body wave as the music played, slowly swaying before the men. A few other workers paused to watch her and she paid more attention to them than the rude guy. As she moved she saw all the guys in her area pause, the rude one catching her attention and waving her over towards him. Reluctantly Jen moved towards him. He was on his hands and knees putting down the carpet, so Jen stood over him, her body swaying seductively. She turned around to face away from him, surprised when she felt a hand on her calf. Looking down, she saw the rude guy grinning lecherously up at her, his hand continuing to slide up her leg. As Jen danced the man slowly rose up, his hands still gliding up her legs until he was standing in front of her, moving his hands thankfully to her hips. Jen continued to dance. Although the man was rude and annoying he was good looking; too bad he had to open his mouth and ruin it she thought. Jen was startled when she was abruptly turned around by the man, facing away from him while he pressed against her ass, swaying with her. His hands moved across her stomach as he ground his pelvis into her ass. Jen saw Brutus looking over and shook her head, still in control of the situation as she pushed her hips into the guy's crotch. "That's it bitch," the guy said as Jen danced with him, his body pressed against her. Although a part of her was turned off at his crude behavior, she could not deny how nice it felt feeling him against her. Her blood began rushing to private places as Jen started to become aroused at the man's closeness. Her body began swaying even more seductively, her mind only focused on the closeness of the man holding her as she danced. Looking up she saw a few more men gathered around them, watching the man holding Jen while she swayed in his arms. Suddenly she felt, more than heard, the first snap of her satin vest come undone, realizing the man had pulled it apart. "That's ten bucks right there, stop me if you don't want the full thirty," he whispered in her hair. In response Jen just ground her hips into him, fully aware of the other men watching her, a few of them holding up money as well. She knew she would get more than $30 out of the dance; it was just the rudeness of the man making her pause. Still, seeing the leers of the other men was turning her on even more. A second snap came undone as the man whispered, "Twenty," in Jen's ear. Jen kept dancing, giving the men what they wanted, knowing it would be a decent tip once things were said and done. Even as she formed the thought she felt the third snap come undone. Right at the end of the song with Britney saying "Like that" Jen tilted her shoulders back, walking forward and leaving the vest in the man's hands. Immediately Nelly Furtado's 'Promiscuous' began playing. As the men around her cheered Jen raised her hands, thrusting her hips and moving her body faster to the beat of the song as her breasts swayed. She again felt a pair of hands on her waist and a body press up behind her as another man started swaying with her. Jen felt his fingers pull the waistband of her outfit out and was about to push him away when she felt the familiar cool paper money slide into her waistband and the man step away. This was repeated a few more times as Jen danced, men moving up behind her, holding her bare waist and pressing against her ass as they slid a tip into her waistband. As the song ended, Gary's voice came across the speakers, "Gentleman, the Satin Kitty's own Kitten," realizing Mary's set was over. A part of her realized Mary had only three songs in her set compared to the five she had danced, slightly resentful. Another part of her if Mary was not doing well; sometimes the DJ would end a set early if the crowd was not responsive enough to a particular dancer. Jen looked around and saw at least a quarter of the club was watching her dance instead of the stage, hoping she was not pulling tips away from the other girls as she swayed. As the interlude music cut in before the next set she thanked the guys, explaining she needed to help others with their 'work' as the rude guy tossed her top to her. Jen stood there a few moments until he grinned, handing the three ten-dollar bills out to her. Jen took them and turned around to the chuckling of several guys behind her as she put her top back on. Gary announced Denise—or Crystal—next as the first song of her set Jason Derulo's 'Ridin' Solo' began to play. Jen caught movement out of the corner of her eye seeing the guys at the bar waving her over. Hoping it was not a group with another asshole like the last, she slowly strutted over to them. "You boys want some company?" she asked in a flirtatious voice. "Hell yeah," one of them told her while the others nodded. "But we mainly wanted to get you away from that asshole Tim," he said nodding towards the carpet guys. "He always gives girls a hard time—I'm surprised he took such a liking to you to actually pay you," they said. Jen smiled, "Then I definitely need to reward my knights in shining armor from saving me from the bad dragon," she laughed as she started swaying to the song. This group of guys was easier to please as Jen danced and talked with them while they worked. It was a weird situation, a stripper dancing for a bunch of construction workers while they worked, but it was what it was as she swayed to the music coming across the new sound system. Jen learned most of the workers there were contracted by DSA, helping to refurbish clubs all over the country. Some local independent contractors were with them, but they told her once Mr. DeWight liked somebody's work he wanted to keep them, so paid for travel and everything when he bought a new club. "This is actually one of the nicer clubs he's purchased," Rob, a small black man told her as he tucked a five into her blouse, his fingers briefly pausing to feel her breast before moving away. Jen simply smiled at the harmless—and not uncommon—gesture as he smiled back, both of them knowing what happened. He told her about some of the clubs previously they had worked on, some almost needing to be torn down and rebuilt and taking months to finish. There were others where the girls were so ugly they were all fired on the spot and girls from other clubs were flown in to stock the club until local dancers could be hired. "I must say the quality of help here is far better than any club we've been to," he said, his eyes roaming up and down Jen's body as her body responded to the seductive leer. "Though I'll be honest none of the girls here hold a candle to you," he complimented her. Jen thanked him for the compliment as the other guys agreed with him. She continued to dance for them. There were some groups where things just 'clicked' and the dancer felt comfortable around, it was how they built up their regulars and this group was perfect for Jen. Another Britney Spears song came on, 'Piece of Me' as Jen began thrusting her body to the beat. The guys were now mostly working behind the bar, so she moved to join them, dropping to her knees in front of them and oscillating her body on the floor. She rose to a crouch, her legs moving back and forth, spreading herself before them as she swayed her hips to the song. One of the guys moved towards her to stuff a tip into her top. Seeing it was a ten dollar bill, Jen decided that big of a tip and their nice manners deserved more as she shook her head. Seeing the confused look at the guy, she smiled, reaching down and slowly unsnapping her top as her body contorted side to side. As the last button came undone she quickly shrugged out of her top, crawling across the floor to the guy. She tuned on her back, the cold uncarpeted cement of the floor shocking against her back as she raised her legs, spreading them wide to the other guys on the other end of the bar to their vocal admiration. She was now looking up at the guy who had been about to give her the tip, her breasts standing up before him as she smiled and cupped them, her hips grinding to the song. "Now you can tip," she told the guy above her, who smiled. He bent over her to pull aside the side of her shorts and stuffed the ten into them. As he backed away over her body Jen grabbed him, pulling his head down between her breasts as she ground his face into her, his chest in her face, his crotch above her. Jen felt a small thrill as the guy licked between her breasts, the wet rasp of his tongue on her skin turning her on as she let him get back to work, slowly standing up and dancing topless to the guys. A few workers on the other side of the bar noticed her rise up behind the bar, coming over to watch. Jen moved her body seductively—she had always been told she was one of the most sensual dancers—it was one of the reasons Mr. DeWight wanted her as a spokesmodel of the club—as Jen got into the song. While the song played and Jen danced seductively a few more guys came over and gave her tips, many of them intentionally brushing her body as they stuffed the bills in her hot pants. Her body was now reacting to the touches and leers of the men, made more obvious by no club lighting as she saw her nipples sticking out proudly. She was now accustomed to the blatant lighting, the crudeness of the men, and everything 'off' for her dancing at the club in the afternoon. Abstractedly she began to enter what her and the girls called 'stripper mode' where she was full seductress, wanting to do nothing but please the customers—in this case the workers—with no shame. Another part of her noticed the club was actually starting to take shape, the carpeting almost done, as was the bar where she was dancing for the guys working on it. Looking back at the bar, she saw the low hanging rack of glasses had been removed, suddenly giving her a naughty idea as the last part of the song played. Suddenly LL Cool J's 'Headstrung' came on and Jen motioned for one of the workers to come to her. She nodded to the bar and he immediately understood, putting his hands on her waist and lifting her up, the cool surface of the bar momentarily shocked her ass cheeks as she wrapped her legs around him, keeping him there as she bounced to the fast song, her tits jumping before him. She ran her hands through his hair, smelling the sawdust and sweat on him causing her to be turned on even more as she reached out to pull his head towards her chest and rub her tits across his face. At the last moment the guy turned his head and Jen gasped in both sudden shock and excitement as he bit her nipple, sucking her tit into his mouth. Jen's body was on fire as her hips continued to grind into the guys chest, her belly dancing lessons coming into play. There were cheers around them, but all Jen could do is instinctively pull the guy's head further into her, her body reacting to the sudden sensual feelings as his tongue flicked back and forth across her nipple. Finally gaining some awareness of her surroundings she released him. As the guy backed away Jen looked down at her breast seeing the guy's saliva shining brightly on the reddened nipple in the white light. Another guy moved between her legs as she was looking down as Jen kept swinging her hips seductively, her crotch rising and falling to the newcomer as she looked up. In shock Jen realized it was the rude carpet guy. Her eyes went wide as he grinned and before she could do or say anything he bent her over the bar, taking her other nipple into his mouth! Again Jen gasped, the moan escaping her uncontrollably as his tongue flicked across her responsive teat. Jen's hips continued to move unconsciously, grinding into the guy as he sucked her tit in front of everybody to their cheers. The sensation and music was getting the best of her aroused state as her hips continued moving to the beat of the song while the guy continued to assault her breast with his mouth. All Jen wanted was the feeling to continue. Suddenly she let out another moan, her head falling back against the bar as his hand cupped her crotch through her pants. Jen's continued the movements of her hip, allowing the guy to feel her up through her pants. All sense of decency left her as her body responded, her hips rising and falling against the guy's hand. Finally her better sense got a hold of her as she pushed him back, his hand still between her legs. Both her breasts were now reddened and wet with two different men's saliva. Tucking up her legs, Jen put them up against the guy's chest and pushed forcefully him away. Unfortunately, his hand was still on her shorts. Right as the song ended Jen felt a sudden give and rapid series of pops, realizing too late her pushing him away had unsnapped both sides of her shorts! Without anything holding them in, most her tips fell on the floor as she sat there in surprise. The guy looked up, obviously pissed off at Jen for pushing him away; however, his eyes went straight to Jen's bared crotch as he smiled. Before Jen could do anything he stepped forward grapping Jen's feet and raising them. In disbelief she felt her shorts pulled out from beneath her, the cool surface of the bar hitting her bare ass as the man set her back down. The next song came on and Jen groaned, recognizing Lord of Acid's 'Rover Take Over' playing, forgetting Denise had added it as her last song in this set. The man held up Jen's satin hot pants and looked at the money on the floor. "I'll double all those tips after you dance right there," he told her. Jen could no longer think straight, her mind cloudy as she focused on the cool surface of the bar, realizing how nice it felt, wondering how it would feel against her whole body. In answer to both her stray thought and the guy's statement Jen swung her feet onto the bar, rolling onto her back as the song started. In beat with the music she began a body wave, the cheers behind her urging her on as she knew they were watching her bare crotch wave in front of them. Jen raised her legs in the air, spreading them and doing a fan spin on the bar before rolling on her stomach, the cool surface of the bar feeling nice against her stomach and tits. She got to her knees, realizing with the glass rack gone she could stand, so she did. Jen began dancing to the beat of the music—not the best dance number, but something that went with Denise's pole routine—while running her hands over herself as the crowd cheered. She noticed some throwing money on the bar, Tim picking it up and putting it into a jar while she danced. For the third time in two days Jen was dancing nude. Although she had gone topless for years, that final step had been taboo to her; now her body was on fire as she moved to the beat of the music, strutting up and down the length of the bar. She dropped down to the splits as the song ended, the cool surface of the bar against her crotch sending a chill through her. A chorus of cheers behind the bar came as she turned and exposed her slit to everybody as Gary's voice came across the speakers thanking Crystal, announcing the next dancer, Fox—aka Janice. Immediately 'Just Dance' by Lady Gaga started playing and Jen's body instinctively began moving to the music. She could no longer help herself as she stood up, dancing and strutting on the bar naked to the beat of the music and approvals of the guys around the bar. Jen turned her ass towards the main group and popped her butt cheeks, slowly bending down at the waist and completely exposing herself. The group behind her screamed in appreciation as she rose back up, strutting to where she started. In surprise she saw her shorts and a stack of money sitting on the bar. She looked for the rude guy, but he was nowhere to be seen as she sat down on the cool bar and grabbed her shorts and money, sliding off the bar. She saw her top lying on the floor and bent down and picked it up as well. She was planning on heading to the dressing room to gather her thoughts and get dressed, needing a break when a large man stepped in front of her. "Ma'am, I was wondering if you could help us out to test the poles in the private rooms," he said. Jen looked up asking what he meant as the man explained Mr. DeWight told them to have one of the girls test out the poles after they installed them in the private rooms to make sure they were done right. He told her they all agreed she was the best one for the job. The second song of Janice's set came on—Rihanna's 'We Found Love." Janice typically picked current hits for her sets and Jen abstractedly noted it did not have a good beat for a dance set, but to each their own she thought. Her mind was suddenly brought back to where she was as she felt the man's arm around her waist. She wondered why her thoughts had strayed, the feeling of his hand across her waist feeling good as she let him guide her towards the private VIP rooms. He steered her into the first room and Jen was amazed at the facelift the room had received. She had been here just last night, yet it was completely renovated, amazed at the speed which the workers had achieved such a feat. Her mind was brought back to the moment as she felt her ass being stroked, almost groaning in pleasure at the sensation as she looked up at the large man. She suddenly realized she was still holding her outfit, naked other than her high-heeled sandals. "I should get dressed," she said, but the man smiled. "Actually, the boys and I will pay you $100 per pole if you do a full song on each as you are. It serves two purposes, it tests the pole's stability, but also lets us look at the hottest girl we've ever seen," he chuckled, looking down at Jen's breasts. As if having a mind of their own, she felt her nipples clench in anticipation of another assault upon them. She should have said no, but seemed to have no more inhibitions as the guy guided her to the small stage set up in the room, a shiny new pole installed in the center. Jen took a step on the one-foot high stage when the voice behind her cut in, "Here, let me help you up." Jen squeaked in surprise as her entire right buttocks was encased by the man's huge hand, lifting her up on the stage. It was not the act of his hand grabbing her ass that had caused her shrill sound though, but the sensation of one of his fingers sliding between her cheeks and inadvertently pressing against her anus. She quickly scooted forward out of his grasp, confused at the excitement it gave her. Jen turned around to see him chuckling as ten other guys filed into the room, sitting down on the sofas. The larger man—who seemed to be in charge of them—reached over and turned on the speakers just as the next song in Janice's set, Lupe Fiasco's 'The Show Goes On' came on. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 03 Author's Note: It is recommended to read the previous chapters of this story if you have not done so already to better understand the storyline and characters... The next morning Jen reluctantly asked Dan to help pick out her outfit for the evening. Mr. DeWight fucking her the night before last was a 'big elephant' in the room between them. She and Dan were trying to act like it was a typical day, doing what they always did, and one of their morning rituals was Dan helping Jen pick out clothes for work. Outwardly she appeared fine, but inwardly her mind was in disarray as her thoughts kept drifting to the other night. Although being drugged without her knowledge defended how things progressed to that point, she could not deny how aroused she had been when it taken place. What bothered her most was not the act itself, as it could be explained by the drug and her lowered inhibitions, it was how her hips had eagerly met Mr. DeWight's thrusts; the incredible sensation of his large cock spreading and filling her so completely; and how she had orgasmed at least three times from his use of her. Jen could not help but feel guilty for cheating on Dan, regardless of how he had told her it was not her fault. She had expressed her concerns to Mary—somebody who had way more experience with drugs than Jen—who explained it was a common effect of Ecstasy to revel in then sensations of others touching you, one of the reasons it was used in raves so often. Mary had confessed allowing complete strangers to feel her up at parties when high on the drug, thinking nothing odd about it at the time. In some cases she said her arousal had been almost uncontrollable. Yet even with that explanation Jen could not help but feel guilty. Dan usually enjoyed the process of picking out Jen's outfits for work. Although he did not like her stripping to begin with, it gave him some meager control on how she presented herself. Instead of her dressing up to seduce other men, he was picking out a sexy outfit to show her off to them. It was a fine line of distinction, but worked for them and was the least Jen could do for Dan to feel more comfortable about her job. Dan had offered to help and was making the attempt; however, she could tell he was reserved for the same reasons she herself was subdued. As Dan went through Jen's outfits the thought of selecting something for her to look sensual in front of Chuck dampened his spirits. His mind flashed back to watching as Chuck manipulated Jenny into dancing nude for a table dance, even suggesting she allow customers to grope her. Then there was the ultimate humiliation of watching Chuck—his childhood rival and nemesis—taking Jenny into one of the VIP rooms 'for a talk,' where he had ended up fucking her. He had been heart-stricken, but could not deny how erotic the sight had been seeing Jen used in such a fashion. When they arrived home that night, in a mixture of anger, sadness, loss, and arousal he had fucked her relentlessly until both had fallen asleep from exhaustion. The next day they both wondered if their relationship was over until receiving a call from John, one of the bartenders at the club. John confided to them how Chuck had instructed him to spike Jen's drinks with a powder he was told contained vitamins and electrolytes to prevent the girls from getting dehydrated; however, he believed it was most likely Ecstasy, making Jen amendable to Chuck's manipulations of her. It took the blame completely off Jen and turned it right back onto Chuck. In Chuck's defense—playing Devil's Advocate in his mind—he did not know Dan and Jen even knew each other, let alone were engaged and soon to be married. Chuck was at fault for drugging one of his workers and sexually assaulting her, but he had not done it to spite Dan. It was Dan's fault for not speaking up and putting a stop to things. He felt he was more to blame than Jen for things getting out of hand, as she had the excuse of being drugged unknowingly. Chuck could legally be accused of date rape; however, Jen refused to even think about it. Dan finally agreed, remembering Jen's moans—definitely not those of somebody being used against her will. It would only be hearsay about her being drugged anyways. No, Dan felt completely responsible. He had never being able to stand up to Chuck; even as Chuck manipulated Jen right in front of him he had been too weak-willed to say anything. Deep in the back of Dan's mind he wondered even if Chuck had known Jen was his fiancée if that would have stopped him, recalling how in college Dan's relationship with girls had not prevented Chuck sleeping with them. He had wondered if Chuck purposely went after girls he was interested in; however, Chuck had always claimed innocence when Dan had accused him of it. He did not voice his concern with Jen, as she had enough to worry about, but it was still something deep in his mind he could not shake. Yet the situation of his fiancée sleeping with his rival was not their biggest concern, which showed the seriousness of their troubles. After using Jen to his depraved satisfaction, Chuck had further manipulated her into signing an employment contract. For most exotic dancers, including Jen and the other girls at the Satin Kitty, they were classified as 'independent contractors,' paying the club a fee to dance, sometimes giving the house an additional percentage of their tips as well, with the rest being their take-home earnings. The problem with this system was it being based entirely on tips—sometimes there were good nights, other times there were bad nights. On a good night with a convention in town, Jen could come home with almost a thousand dollars; however, on a slow night she was lucky to break even after paying the house fee. Chuck's company—Divine Silk Attractions, Inc., or DSA for short—used a different model, actually employing the girls as salaried 'professional entertainers.' As such, the girls were asked to sign legal contracts dictating their work requirements and so forth. They were given the choice of signing and remaining at the club as a DSA employee or packing their things and leaving; however, Chuck purchasing both clubs in the area limited where they could look for jobs elsewhere. For most of the girls the club was their primary income, so they had little choice but to sign. Being contractual employees had some positive benefits, such as the ability to provide the girls with better job security, medical and dental insurance, and other benefits of full-time employment; however, these were overshadowed by the disadvantages. One of the biggest concerns by the girls was as fulltime employees they had to pay taxes; the money they earned was no longer 'under the table' so all of their earnings were now on file to the IRS. Several girls were worried they would actually be earning less. In addition, as independent contractors the girls had the freedom to work or even quit anytime they wanted, as well as set some of their own conditions for working at the club. Jen already had plans of quitting once Dan had earned enough in commissions to pay for their upcoming marriage and her going to school for a better job. Now she was contractually obligated to dance at the club unless she could talk Chuck into letting her go. Being legal contracts of employment, quitting the club was now more involved than just walking into his office and telling him she quit. Although the contract made it difficult for Jen quit, that was not what was causing Dan concerns. As broker for the two clubs Chuck purchased, Dan had been privy to investigative reports performed by his real estate to verify legitimacy of perspective buyers and prevent issues stopping a sale. The reports outlined how Divine Silk Attractions, Inc. was a full adult entertainment business with investments not only in strip clubs, but a full production line of pornographic movies, websites, and magazines. Even worse, included in the investigations were several summaries of police reports alleging the company of illegal activities such as drug trafficking and prostitution. The reports suggested girls may have been forced into more than stripping at clubs; however, since the company had never been taken to court, it was considered hearsay and only mentioned briefly, their mention only in regards to possible financial litigations against the company. With plans for their wedding underway, as well as the bad blood between Dan and Chuck, not to mention Chuck's recent usage of Jen, the hint of further impropriety due to illegal contractual obligations was the final straw. It was imperative for her to quit so they could move forward with their lives away from Charles DeWight III. Jen had tried to talk to Chuck yesterday to get out of the contract; however, when she arrived at the club for practice, she had discovered him out of town for the day, but that was not the worst discovery. Reinforcing the girls' anxiety about the contracts binding them to work, Chuck had left instructions stating any girls on site during the day had to perform for the construction workers renovating the club! Normally afternoons were spent leisurely practicing their routines and getting guidance from Jen, who had taken several pole dancing fitness classes. She was the best dancer at the club and as all the girls got along, they were all thankful of Jen's assistance as was she in giving it. What was originally planned to be a routine day of light practice instead resulted in a full day of performing. It was bad enough for Jen who had the day off and had shown up merely to practice; however, a couple of the girls were scheduled to work that evening so were being required to perform a double shift. Typically in such situations the girls could have refused; however, due to their binding contracts as professional entertainers, refusal would result in heavy fines none of them could afford. Making matters worse, Chuck had left additional instructions requiring each girl to earn $300.00 in tips before they could leave! Customarily the girls' earnings included both tips and a percentage of miscellaneous house amenities—table and lap dances, proceeds from customers buying them overpriced drinks, and so forth. The demand for the girls to make that much in tips alone on an afternoon was more than some girls earned in an evening. After the initial shock of the demands wore off, they decided to pool their tips in the hopes of being able to end the impromptu performance early enough for the girls working that evening to have some time off. The guys working at the club had even offered to pitch in, but the girls took Mr. DeWight's request as a personal challenge, refusing to accept any assistance. Then the final outrageous demand came when Jen was told being the club's "spokesmodel," she had a different set of standards and was required to earn $500.00 in tips. Although the girls were pooling their money, it was still a blatant reminder of how the contract was binding her in ways she had not predicted. It was not until the girls walked onto the stage they realized one complication of their predicament. Earning such an amount requested by Mr. DeWight would not have been an issue on a normal evening, as customers expected to pay money in the first place; however, these were constructions workers on a job, so none of the girls knew if they could even make that amount, even if house fees WERE included in the total amount, as few people carried around so much money without expecting to spend it. Dan was not sure of the particulars other than Jen had said the girls had made the required amount. He knew they must have worked hard, as when Jen had returned home looking like she had worked a full night of dancing. Although tired, she was also incredibly horny, practically ravishing him in the doorway. Dan had not thought anything unusual in this, as Jen sometimes came home turned on from all the attention from guys, although last night she was insatiable. It was an incredible evening of sex, and Dan would have thought nothing else of it if not for one glaring problem. Even now standing in Jen's closet in front of her clothes he could not forget his astonishment, while Jen vigorously rode his cock on the couch, of seeing a fresh bruise in the shape of a handprint over her left breast! Wiping the image yet again from his mind, he focused on more immediate concerns. With Chuck back in town Jen was planning to talk to him about getting out of the contract. Having signed 'under the influence,' both of them agreed she should use that as ammunition if he refused, making it much easier to get out of the contract. Once the contact was nulled, she would give her notice to quit. The commission selling the two strip clubs would provide more than enough for their wedding and allow Jen to go to school, so it was time for her to leave, much to Dan's relief. These thoughts and more flashed through Dan's mind as he looked over Jen's wardrobe—most of the outfits bought for her by him. Almost picking something conservative, he admitted Jen needed to look her best. If she dressed sexy enough, Chuck would probably be more interested in looking at her body than paying attention to their conversation, increasing her chance of getting out of the contract. It shamed him to think of making Jen look sexier for his rival, but in this case, the ends justified the means. Pushing thoughts of Chuck out of his mind, Dan chose one of Jen's simpler but more erotic outfits, a deep violet low-cut halter crop top with matching cheeky cut booty shorts. It was similar to the outfit she wore the previous day, although this one had no collar and the shorts were higher cut—the overall effect exposing more of her body. The top spread wide apart, unabashedly exposing her breasts, while the shorts were cut high up her thighs to display her firm ass. The dark purple color emphasized Jen's tanned skin and Dan knew in the spotlights on the stage she would look awesome. He almost changed his mind noticing the silver triple interlocking round buckles serving as a quick-release on the halter top and shorts. Although most stripper outfits had some type of quick release, they were usually hidden so the dancer could surprise the audience. Dan's concern was less for the top, as Jen performed topless, than the release on the shorts, which was bright silver, drawing one's eyes directly to it. He knew how emboldened some customers were towards the girls moving through the crowd, so such visibility increased the chance of somebody 'accidentally' unlatching them. If it had not been for the other night where he had watched Chuck easily removed Jen's top and shorts, Dan would have thought nothing of the quick releases. They were part of every outfit she owned and he chastised himself for thinking differently due to what had happened when they had agreed to not change the way they acted or thought between each other. Seeing his expression as he held the outfit, Jen asked what was wrong. Voicing his concerns, she smiled and told him she had just the thing, putting on a matching purple thong. He smiled at her acceptance of his worries, lessening his reservations, even though he noticed the thong itself had quick release catches on each side. To complement the outfit Dan chose a pair of purple and black satin Mary-Jane-styled platform shoes with 6" spiked heels. He recalled how the shoes accentuated Jen's ass and thighs when she had modeled them for him, and seeing her smile at his choice he knew he chose well. After putting on the outfit and looking at herself in the mirror, Jen had a last minute inspiration and pulled on one of her purple Full Flex garters over her right leg. The contrast of one leg bare and the other having the ribbon wrapping up to her thigh added to the overall sensuality and Dan had to admit she looked incredible. The shorts were low-cut, the 'V' of her pelvis drawing your eyes directly between her legs, while the top was cut wide, the material spread apart so far it almost revealed her nipples. With the shoes and leg wrapping he knew she would be earning tips long before she took anything off. After packing her bag with an extra thong, Wet Wipes, as well as makeup and other essentials, Jen put on a cropped t-shirt and yoga pants to wear in the cab. They had decided on Dan not driving her to work to prevent Chuck discovering their relationship, forcing her to take a cab to work from now on. It may have cost extra money, but with the commission Dan would earn selling the clubs, they agreed it would be worth it. Dan wished her good luck as he left the house for work while Jen waited for her cab. She wanted to get to the club early in order to get some practice with the girls to make up for their missed practice yesterday, as well as having the opportunity to catch Chuck in his office and get out of her contract. When Dan arrived at his office he found two large Fed Ex packets on his desk containing all the required documents for the purchase of the two clubs by Chuck's company. With the sheer number of signatures required, he again wondered how long Chuck had been planning on buying the clubs, as a day turnaround for the papers was next to impossible without prior effort. He spent the morning authenticating and finalizing the purchase, and once satisfied everything was in order forwarded the packages to the sellers for their perusal and signing. Dan did not foresee any difficulties, as Chuck had agreed upon the asking price. Without having to worry about a counter offer it was only a matter of the sellers signing and returning the documents for the closing of the two clubs. The rest of the morning was a comfortable routine once he sent the packets off to the respective sellers and informed them of the purchases by phone. Having nothing else to do, he again opened up the investigative report on DSA hoping to find something to help Jen get out of her contract. Unfortunately the reports covered more on the financial viability of DSA as a purchasing organization than anything concerning their business practices. After lunch Dan did some busy work filing some old listings when his phone rang, breaking him out of his reverie. Recognizing the number for the club on his Caller ID he picked it up, immediately saying, "So, how did things go?" he asked Jen. His heart stopped as Chuck's voice came across the line, "What do you mean? This is 3D isn't it?" Dan quickly recovered as he answered, "Sorry, I thought the number was from one of our other agents. How are things going Chuck?" The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Charles DeWight III. I was bad enough he would be interacting with him at the final closing of the clubs, and he had a feeling Chuck calling had nothing to do with that, particularly since all the paperwork was now processed. This was probably a 'social call' for Chuck to meet up with Dan. Chuck's voice came across the phone interrupting his thoughts, "Ah, ok. Well, I hope you got the papers and such for the properties?" he asked. At Dan's reassurance he continued, "Good, good. Look, I had such a nice time catching up with you the other night I was hoping you could come down to the Satin Kitty again so we could spend some more time together," he inquired, confirming Dan's earlier thoughts. As usual when dealing with Chuck, Dan immediately agreed, regretting the words even as they left his mouth. He could never think straight around Chuck—the last thing he wanted to do was spend more time with him, particularly at the club and risk somebody saying something about him and Jen. "Good, good," Chuck replied. "I wanted to talk to you about something I mentioned the other night," he said mysteriously. At Dan's persistence he continued, "Well, you know I had to seal the deal with the clubs here myself. That was because the guy who normally handled all our property acquisitions got caught dipping his hand into the barrel," Chuck said with some vehemence. "So we have an opening for a property representative...and I wanted to talk to you about taking it," he explained. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 03 Dan's eyes opened wide in shock. The last thing he wanted was to ever work for Chuck! It did not have anything to do with what happened with Jen, it was the simple fact Dan hated Chuck with every molecule of his being. Still, as usual when talking with him Dan could not say anything in contradiction, so instead of vehemently denying him like he desired, he just said he would see Chuck in the evening sometime after 7:00 pm, the time coming to him as it was the time Jen's shift started, knowing he would have to warn her beforehand. Hanging up the phone he was startled when it immediately rang again. Seeing the same number of the club, Dan answered by asking, "What, you change your mind about seeing me tonight?" hoping it was true. Jen's surprised voice came across the other line as Dan realized she was calling from one of the other club phones. He quickly explained what had just happened, joking about how the last thing he would do was work for Chuck when she herself was quitting when Jen got noticeably quiet on the other end. Asking what was wrong, Jen said when she asked to get out of the contract Chuck had told her it could not be nulled or revoked, explaining the reason he was out of town yesterday was to finalize everything for all the girls. She had been the last one to sign, so once he had gotten her signature he had wanted to make sure everything was processed quickly through their Human Resources department before the property sale finished. Asking her if she told Chuck of her intention to quit, she said, "The bastard actually threatened to sue me for breach of contract, saying he had already invested plans for me. The asshole said the only way I could get out now was to buy it out from the company for over two hundred thousand dollars!" she exclaimed. "Where the fuck would we get that money?" she asked. "And how the hell could he even sue us for that much?" Dan's heart dropped into his stomach as she continued, explaining how Chuck had informed her as a DSA spokesmodel she had more responsibilities and appearances required than a common dancer. He already had arranged several promotional engagements as well as a scheduled for her to go on tour. Dan grimly recalled the comments in the investigative report, hoping it had embellished on the truth in order to make DSA look worse than it may have been. He wondered if her 'engagements' were nothing more than dancing. Then another thought occurred to him as he asked, "How long is the contract for?" If Jen only had to work at the club for another year it would be rough, but they could probably swing it without Chuck finding out Dan and Jen were acquainted. They could probably postpone the wedding, although they would both be upset, but it was at least manageable. Then his heart stopped at Jen's response, "Five fucking years!" she exclaimed. "And supposedly it is a 'fixed term modified open-ended contract' or whatever the fuck he called it, explaining it was immediately renewable after each term. I would have to go out of my way and get a lawyer to get out of the contract before its renewal," she said with exasperation. Dan asked what the contract entailed as Jen told him she did not know a lot of the specifics, a Fed Ex copy would be sent to the house by tomorrow. Since they had the weekend off, they could go over it. Dan knew she had probably been too upset about the length of the time and getting out of the contract to worry about questioning what it actually required, as his mind flashed back to the investigative reports. Jen was obviously upset, as was Dan, but he did not want to increase her anxiety while at work as he replied, "I guess for now we just continue as normal," he reasoned to Jen's frustrated sigh. "We can't really do anything until we get a copy of that contract—but I do think we need to get a lawyer to look it over," he said as she agreed. He mentioned Chuck's invitation for Dan to visit tonight at the club and again Jen got extremely quiet. She finally berated him for accepting, but agreed him avoiding Chuck's presence would seem equally suspicious. Jen knew how much Chuck intimidated Dan and how he could rarely think straight around him, so they agreed to continue pretending not knowing each other. Jen told him she would tell everybody at the club to keep quiet so Chuck would not catch on. Suddenly Jen's loud exclamation came across the phone, "Fuck!" Dan saw several people around the office look towards him, her voice heard even through his headset. Asking what happened, Jen again got quiet for a few minutes as he asked her again what was wrong. "The only one who I won't be able to talk to is Tim," she said hesitantly. It took Dan a few minutes to think of who she was talking about, finally remembering the other bartender the club had hired a few months ago. Tim actually worked a swing shift, so Dan had rarely came into contact with him, barely knowing him. On the evenings Dan came by to pick up Jen, John was the usual person working late. Tim spent more time working days restocking the bar and opening the club, while John came in later when the crowd typically got bigger. Asking why that would be a problem he again waited while Jen paused before continuing, "Well, I found out Tim actually has worked for DSA for some time. He basically was sent here to look over the property and see how things were maintained before Mr. DeWight bought it," she said. "In fact, he is leaving and will be the new manager at the Slithering Lizard—which has been renamed by the way, to the Wet Cherry—not much of an improvement if you ask me. Anyways, I don't know if Tim knows you or not," she said worriedly. Dan reassured her, telling him if he had trouble recalling him, Tim probably would not remember as well. "Hell, he's been around so little he probably doesn't even know you or any of the other girls," Dan said, as Jen became noticeably silent over the phone. Finally at Dan's persistent inquiring she said quietly, "He may have more reason to remember me now," she said quietly. "Tim was in the office when Mr. DeWight told me he was going to be the new club's manager," she said softly. "And...?" Dan asked as his pulse raced in dread wondering what happened. "As congratulations..."she trailed off again. There was such a long pause Dan did not think she would continue as she finally finished, "As congratulations Mr. DeWight told me I had to do a lap dance for Tim," she said quietly. "What the fuck?" Dan said. It was an unspoken rule for the guys working the club to politely ignore the girls so they would not freaked out at their fellow workers ogling them. Having to perform for another employee was just not done. "What happened," he asked, fearing the worst. "Apparently part of the new fucking contract is I have to now dance nude at least one set a night," she said. Dan knew how much Jen had refused to dance nude over the years—the other night was a huge exception due to her being drugged. He could understand how upset Jen was—as he was himself—but his anger was directed towards Chuck, not Jenny. "So what happened?" he asked reluctantly. "He was a fucking octopus," she said angrily, using the term the girls used for guys who kept trying to grope them during a dance, having hands everywhere. Dan told her he understood, blaming Chuck and the damn contract, reassuring her they would work on getting her out of there as soon as possible. He was not worried about Tim who was now working at the new club. Dan was confident the chance of Tim knowing him and Jen were an item, let alone telling Chuck about it, was slim at best. He again soothed her chaotic emotions explaining he did not blame her for doing something like that in her predicament and they could talk more about it if she wanted this weekend. "Maybe you can hire me for a lap dance and keep me occupied the rest of the night," she chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. Laughing at her light-hearted comment Dan hung up the phone thinking about the turn of events. There was no way Jen could work for the club another five years. Even before the club was on the market they had been planning on her leaving after they set the date for their wedding. It had been only a matter of time until enough was saved for her to go back to school and pursue a different career. They needed to find a way for her to get out of that contract before things got worse! ******************** As Jen hung up the phone, she felt terrible. A day after her and Dan swore to never keep things between the two of them and she was going against that promise, lying to him for the second time in two days. As before it was with the best intentions, feeling what Dan did not know would not hurt him, but she still felt terrible as she recalled her day. By the time she had gotten to the club Mr. DeWight had already arrived, but when she tried to meet up with him he told her he had several teleconference calls and would not be able talk to her until after lunchtime. Denise and Mary were already there so she worked with them on their routines. They wanted her to show them some of the newer moves she performed yesterday. At the mention of the day before, Jen's memory flashed to her predicament in the VIP room, the large foreman finger fucking her in front of his men, holding her up solely by her right breast, which was still tender. She recalled how aroused she had been, cumming almost continuously as his hand and fingers worked their magic, her pulse slightly rising as she once again became aware of her surroundings, Denise and Mary looking at her questioningly. Entering the dressing room Jen immediately noticed the newest edition of furniture—a vending machine with 'Divine Silk Attractions, Inc.' scrolled across the top in gold. It was not the addition of the vending machine that was the most surprising, as Jen saw the front of the machine, an almost life-size picture of her hanging off a pole! Looking at Mary and Denise, she asked, "What the fuck?" The girls smiled, shrugging their shoulders. "Guess it's promoting the new DSA spokes-stripper," Mary laughed at her. "This is supposedly the prototype—obviously put here for your benefit," she chuckled, "since you're head isn't big enough already," she laughed. The girls explained the machine contained bottled water and was free for them, so Jen pushed a button, a bottle of cold water falling into the bin. As she pulled the bottle out she saw the label, another picture of her—this one of her spinning perpendicular to the bottle, her form wrapped around it as if the bottle were the pole with the label. Reading the label she said out loud, "Stripper Water?" "Would you prefer 'Jen Juice'?" Denise teased. "Or how about 'Diamond Drinks,'" Mary joined in as they all laughed. Mary explained how they were told the machines were going to be distributed at all the clubs and holdings of DSA, but they got the first one. "As if looking at you in real life wasn't enough," Denise said. "Still, it's free bottled water, so we don't have to bring our own any more or drink that shitty tap water from the bar while practicing," she said, pushing the button several times and grabbing the bottles to take out to the floor with them. Jen smiled she followed the two out to the stage. Mary went to the DJ booth and put their CD tracks in the sound system, bringing back the remote so they could stop and start the songs as needed. Stripping down to their outfits, the girls whistled at Jen, commenting on how hot she looked. Mary told her she wanted to steal Dan for their wardrobe designer as Jen quickly told them to be quiet. She explained what was going on with her trying to get out of the contract, as well as Dan's history with Chuck. She realized she had not told them what was going on yet as she felt some of the weight lifted off of her shoulders confessing to her two friends. She cherished how much she loved the girls as they agreed with her and Dan's plan, agreeing to help out where they could and treating Dan like any other guy. They turned on the music and began warming up around the poles. Since the stage had been redone with three poles, they could now all practice together and were soon absorbed in rehearsing their routines on the three new poles. They went through several moves together when Mary first noticed and mentioned to them about Tim acting strange. It was easy to see the bartender with the house lights on as Jen hung upside down on the pole, her breasts barely contained in her halter top while gravity pulled them out. Instead of being behind the bar and restocking it as usual, Tim was sitting at one of the center tables, a drink in his hand as he blatantly watched the girls—or more to the point, at Jen. Seeing her noticing him, he raised his glass in a toast as he slowly and deliberately stuck out his tongue and ran it across his upper lip, staring at Jen the entire time. Flipping her body seductively around the poll in beat to the Rolling Stones' 'Love is Strong,' Jen slid to a sitting position and asked Mary what the hell was up with him. Mary told her she had no idea, but he had been watching them—or Jen—for a while. Typically the guys working at the club made it a point to not stare at the girls or make them feel uncomfortable, so Tim's behavior was abnormal. Jen recalled the day before remembering when Brutus had entered the dressing room he had tried to make a hasty exit when he saw Jen naked. At the time she told him it was alright, but then she remembered Tim coming in, openly looking at her without any hint of embarrassment or apology. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the same intent look on Tim's face as yesterday, causing her to feel uneasy, as if he were imagining her naked as she practiced. It was unnerving and completely out-of-character for a co-worker. Jen tried to focus on their practice and ignore him; however, in the back of her mind she was very aware of his attention the entire time. Even with Tim watching and making her feel uncomfortable, the girls had a good routine, their bodies glittering with sweat by the time they finished. They had drunk several bottles of 'Stripper Water' to their increasing amusement, actually glad the vending machine had been placed in their room. Looking at the clock Jen noticed it was already 2:00pm, having worked out for almost four hours. It was one of their longest work-outs, but she was feeling invigorated instead of tired. She felt alive, not worried about performing the rest of the night even with the workout they had—instead it was a good warm-up session for the evening. She was feeling slightly light-headed as if she had been hanging upside down a bit too long, so took another long swig of water from her bottle. After such a long workout, she speculated she was probably more dehydrated than she thought. She finished the bottle, several drops of condensation falling off the bottle onto her chest as she raised it to her lips, the cool drops refreshing as they rolled down between her breasts. Mary and Denise had plans to go to the local Fresh Harvest café specializing in salads and organic dishes; however, Jen still wanted to talk to Mr. DeWight so asked them to get her a salad, saying she would catch up with them later. Jen procrastinated in the dressing room, taking time to wipe off the sweat from her practice with the Wet Wipes from her bag. The last time she had been in a room with Mr. DeWight she had been drugged and naked, sucking him and letting him fuck her. And then in the afterglow of rigorous sex, had signed the contract she was now trying to break; so of course she was nervous. She had to get her courage up, deciding she needed a drink. Calling to the bar on the house phone, she asked Tim if he bring her a drink, less concerned with his odd behavior than having to meet with Mr. DeWight. While she waited she undid her top, using the Wet Wipes in her bag to sponge the rest of herself off. Typically the girls did not wear deodorant, as even the clear ones left a residue, and if they put their arms around a customer the last thing they wanted was wiping it on them. As such the girls kept a large supply of various moist towlettes to keep themselves clean. Jen was bent over cleaning the inside of her legs when she became aware of another presence. Turning around she saw Tim standing behind her holding a drink, his eyes focused on her bare breasts. Angered, she told him, "Knocking would have been nice," grabbing the drink out of his hand. She was surprised at his answer as he told her, "And miss out on those Grade A tits of yours? No way. Mind if I have a feel? I'm dying to know if they're real or fake," he told her unashamedly, his eyes never leaving her chest. Jen felt her body flush at his blatant behavior, angered even more. The guys always afforded the girls privacy in the dressing room. Even though the girls may strip down to nothing on the floor in front of them during a shift, they were awarded some privacy and decency in the dressing room. "When hell freezes over," Jen told him. Although unnerved by his stare, Jen had stripped for too long to cover herself. She did not want him to think he bothered her as much as he did, so kept cleaning herself off. He laugh when she told him to fuck off, completely taken aback by his behavior, a flurry of motions overcoming her. On one hand she was pissed off at his comments and treatment of her, and yet she could not help but feel slightly turned on at the openly carnal and lewd way he was looking at her. Jen had many reasons why she stripped, and although the most common was money, it was also to feel desired. At her core she was an exhibitionist—what stripper was not in some way—and the unusual attention Tim was giving her body was not only unnerving, but somewhat arousing. "Well if you insist," he grinned at her lecherously, her body again flushing at his odd behavior. Her emotions at odds, she downed her drink in one gulp, too late realizing it was not only pure vodka on the rocks but at least four shots as her throat and stomach warmed to the raw liquor. Continuing to ignore Tim, she grabbed her halter top and put it back on, stuffing her breasts back into place, keenly aware of him watching her the entire time. While she was adjusting her chest Tim told her, "Don't get dressed on account of me, I'd like to see you in nothing but those hot shoes and leg wrap you're wearing," he told her openly. Pissed off, Jen shoved passed him as she exited the dressing room telling him over her shoulder, "Other than on stage, it will be a cold day in hell you get any closer than now," she told him angrily. "And it's a Flex garter asshole, not a leg wrap," she informed him as she went down the hall towards Mr. DeWight's office, riled up at his rude behavior. As she knocked on the office door, she had one thing to be thankful of for Tim's rude behavior, it had gotten her irritated enough to no longer care about seeing Mr. DeWight, hearing his voice on the other side of the door telling her to come in. Entering the office Jen was immediately taken aback by how the office had changed. When Willie had owned the club the office had been strictly that, a bare office with grey walls, the only furnishings being a steel desk and chairs as well as a single file cabinet. The girls avoided the room as much as possible, the standing joke being about their asses freezing off if they sat in the cold metal chairs. Now the room had transformed into much more, resembling a boudoir, only in a masculine way. The walls had been covered with purple cloth wallpaper with small fleur-de-lis patterns and strips across it. The shade was darker than her outfit she realized abstractedly. One corner of the room contained a small stage with a stripping pole. Although odd for an office, considering the environment, it blended in instead of being out of place. The effect was similar to those in the VIP rooms, she thought. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 03 Closest to the stage along the wall was a cream-colored French chaise lounge sofa, further giving the room a relaxed atmosphere. In addition, she noticed four large plasma screen televisions mounted in each corner of the room, such that there was nowhere you would be in the room without seeing what was on them. Entering the room, Jen was surprised as her feet sank into the plush carpeting covering the entire room except for the stage, which had typical rubberized flooring similar to the main stage in the club and VIP rooms. Turning her attention to Mr. DeWight, she saw him sitting behind a large cherry wood executive desk behind a computer. In front of the desk were two high-backed leathered trim chairs covered with dark velvet. As she entered further into the room he stood up, moving around the desk towards her. "Diamond, it is a pleasure to see you," he said. "I do apologize I could not meet with you earlier," he told her, wrapping his arm around her waist and escorting her to one of the high-backed chairs. Jen was intensely aware of his hand around her bare waist, the heat of his flesh and the firm grip around her momentarily taking her off-guard as she sat down. Once again she noted how he called her by her stage name, even though he knew her real name. It was something he had been doing with all the girls since the first day he introduced himself, explaining he was a firm believer in work staying work, and home-life—including their real names—remaining home. It immediately told her he was going to treat her as Diamond the stripper instead of Jen the person, knowing she had her work cut out if she was going to convince him of releasing her from the contract. Sitting down in the chair next to hers, he smiled warmly, "So what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked charmingly. "You seemed fairly intent on talking with me, and I again apologize for other corporate matters interfering with spending time with my top spokesmodel," he smiled. Jen blushed slightly at the compliment as she gathered her nerve. About to tell him the reason for coming to him, he suddenly stood up surprising her as he told her, "Where are my manners!" he exclaimed as he reached over to the desk and picked up the phone. "Tim, could you please bring some drinks to my office?" he said over the phone. Jen tried to tell him not to bother but he waved his hand dismissively, "Yes, you know what Diamond needs, and I'll take a bourbon," he said over the phone. Looking at Jen, he asked, "Do you need lunch or anything?" Shaking her head no, she explained to him Mary and Denise were bringing her lunch, so he quickly hung up the phone and sat back down next to her, motioning for her to continue as he comfortably leaned back into the chair watching her. As Jen took a breath to begin, she could not help but feel exposed. She may have been dressed, but the way his eyes roamed across her body she knew he did not miss an inch of exposed skin on her body. Oddly instead of feeling ill at ease, she was shocked to realize her body felt flushed at the attention he was giving her, becoming aware of her nipples tightening in arousal. She once again became aware of the last time she had been this close to Mr. DeWight, his cock slamming into her, their pelvic bones meeting together as her hips thrusted forward in response, her high-heeled boots wrapped around him and pulling him further into her. Forgotten until this moment, she suddenly recalled the warm flush inside her when he came, her womb filling with his seed as she had realized he had removed the condom he had put on in front of her, the thought of his seed emptying into her making her legs clench, pulling him further into her. Even now she felt an involuntary spasm in her pussy at the memory. She looked up at Mr. DeWight's smiling face, wondering if he was aware of her thoughts. She became aware of her pulse increased; knowing if she looked down, her nipples would be clearly outlined through her top. Before she could again gather her thoughts and start speaking, she was once again interrupted at the door knocking as Mr. DeWight let Tim in, carrying a tray of drinks. "Ah thank you Tim!" Mr. DeWight told the other man as Jen looked up, seeing Tim again unashamedly looking at her—or more succinctly at her cleavage. He openly smiled and Jen blushed, knowing he had noticed her hardened nipples, the humiliation also turning her on further. Tim asked Mr. DeWight if there was anything else he needed who replied, "Not at this moment, although I may need you later, so please check back." Jen watched Tim leave, Mr. DeWight's ahead of him to open the door with his back to them as Tim looked straight at her, his hands clenching in the air as he mimicked squeezing her tits. Jen felt her skin tingle, not sure what was happening to her. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of a response, Jen turned and took her drink, taking a long pull of the vodka on rocks before hearing the door close. "Now, hopefully we will not have any more interruptions," Mr. DeWight said, taking a sip of his drink as well. "So what can I do for you?" he asked again, sitting next to her. "Well," Jen started reluctantly, pushing the thought of her sexual encounter with her boss from her mind, "it's about this whole spokesmodel thing," she started. Mr. DeWight immediately began speaking, "I know, it's all so fast, and for that reason I wanted to let you know I will be flying you out to the main corporate office Monday, so you can have your spokesmodel orientation. There are actually a couple of other girls I have promoted to the position—although you are definitely my number one girl," he said to her, his eyes again roving over her body as Jen felt her skin heat up again. "Sorry for the late notice, but that was part of today's meetings to make sure everything was in place before I sent all of you to LA," he told her. Jen felt overwhelmed at this latest news as she tried to continue, "Mr. DeWight, I think I made a mistake," she began. Again he immediately began speaking, almost interrupting her. "In what way? You are without a doubt the most beautiful girl I have had the pleasure of meeting," he told her as she smiled at the compliment while he continued. "In addition, I have seen you dance, and you rival other professionals like Jenyne Butterfly, Crystal Lai, or Felix Cane, maybe even better in some regards. Honestly, I have not seen your equal," he told her approvingly. Jen reddened at the praise, again thanking him. "What I mean is I feel like I was taken advantage of...in...well...in signing the contract," she finally admitted. "Wait, are you upset about us making love?" he asked her openly as Jen' felt her face flush even further. "I'm not sure I would call it making love," she began as he again interrupted. "Were you taken by force?" he asked, continuing as Jen shook her head, "Was it not pleasurable?" he said, resuming on as Jen slowly nodded. "Diamond, what took place was something intimate and pleasurable between two consenting adults. I apologize if you have regrets after the fact, but if you had indicated any misgivings I would have stopped," he told her. "In fact, I remember you fully accepting things, but let's take a look," he said, getting up from his chair. Jen wondered what he was talking about as he moved to his desk and began typing on his computer. Out of the corner of her eye Jen noticed the plasma screens turn on as she turned her attention to them, seeing one of the VIP rooms come on the screen before their decoration. Suddenly she realized he had pulled up the security cameras from that night! Jen watched in horror as she saw Mr. DeWight escort her into the room. She was nude except for her high-heeled thigh-high red boots as he sat down on the now-replaced sofa while she stood in front of him. His voice came across the speakers built in the ceiling, asking her if she still thought she could not dance nude, her reply coming clearing through the speakers as she told him she had drank too much. Listening to the tape, Jen realized her excuses sounded lame and weak even to her as Mr. DeWight on the tape explained how much the position would earn her, and how he knew her financial circumstances were severe enough that this would be one of the best things she could do. At her hesitation she heard him tell her he did not want to rush things, asking her if she still wanted to dance. As Jen watched the screen, he reached over, the speakers filling with Marilyn Manson's 'Sweet Dreams,' Even in the office Jen felt her pulse speed up as the rhythmic beat of the song filled the office. Although she knew what happened next, she sat mesmerized, watching herself dance on the screen, Mr. DeWight running his hands up her legs, across her bare ass, pulling her closer between his spread legs on the couch. Jen had never watched herself dance other than in front of a mirror, and was astonished to see how seductively she danced, her body swaying to the song. Jen was amazed at how sensual she looked. As if it was another person—and it was, this was Diamond the stripper—Jen saw herself turn around on the screen, sinking down to her haunches and pulling Mr. DeWight's hands over her breasts. Mesmerized at the scene portrayed on the screen, she watched transfixed as she leaned back into his lap, sliding up and down his crotch while Mr. DeWight's hands roamed over her body. The security tapes were surprisingly clear, she noted abstractedly. Even in black-and-white she could see every fine detail, her hardened nipples, her glossy lips, and her obvious response to Mr. DeWight's handling of her body. Jen's memory on what had occurred that night was foggy. Other than the key points, she had obvious gaps in her memory due to both the alcohol and drugs. She was now amazed at how seductive the sight was, being a provocative revelation. The view changed as Jen realized the view had switched to one of the other cameras in the room—specifically the one low on the floor. In horror she saw it begin to zoom in between her legs. Jen stared in shock as she realized she had been completely soaked, the camera easily displaying her moistened slit. As if in a dream, Jen watched as a hand came into the view—Mr. DeWight's—his finger easily sliding between her moistened folds. Jen's loud moan came across the speakers as she watched in morbid fascination as she was finger fucked on the camera. With alarm, she clearly noted her hips riding up and down in response to his hand moving in and out of her. After a few minutes it moved away, her labia parted from his finger's presence as she heard Mr. DeWight on the screen telling her it was his turn. The camera view switched again as Jen proceeded to watch herself give her boss head, her moans coming loud and clear across the speakers as she eagerly sucked the large cock. Jen was completely absorbed by the scene on the screen, absently sipping her drink. She was not sure how long the scene lasted, but then the camera changed again as she her head was moved away, the view of Mr. DeWight's large cock soaked with her saliva shimmering in the light. The camera panned back as he stood up, raising her with him, his cock sticking straight out. Although she knew what happened, she was still shocked as Diamond on the screen reached over and took out a condom from the club's hidden supply, handing it to Mr. DeWight. He then turned her around, bending her over the table. As she watched, Jen again remembered the cold feeling of the table against her bare breasts as she stared at the screen, spotting Mr. DeWight pull off the condom and slam into her in one motion, her loud shout coming across the speakers clearly, "Ugh, fuck!" Jen was momentarily startled when she felt hands on her shoulders, realizing she had been so engrossed by the scenes on the television she had lost complete awareness of her surroundings. Mr. DeWight had moved behind her and slowly began massaging her bare shoulders while Jen's attention was pulled back to the television. Her loud moans of pleasure and cries of "Oh yes!" echoed not only through the VIP room on the screen but also within the office as Mr. DeWight began pumping into her. Jen continued to watch, her eyes transfixed to the screen as the scene continued. Jen did not enjoy porno movies; however, watching herself on tape stirred a desire she typically did not feel. She was clearly aware of being aroused, the slow and steady massage of Mr. DeWight—forgotten by her mind being so focused on the screen, but not by her body which was unable to ignore the skin-on-skin contact—rubbing gently across her body. Jen viewed the screen as Diamond turned around, eagerly accepting the cock offered to her as Mr. DeWight fucked her face to face, her breasts swaying to each thrust, her legs pulling him deep into her until he finally came inside her. The scene ended with him asking—and her agreeing—to sign the contract, the televisions fading to black as the tape obviously ended. "You see Diamond," Mr. DeWight said quietly from behind her, his hands slowly stroking the skin of her upper arms while he talked, "there was no indication of any reticence on your part. In fact, in most cases I was complying with your demands," he told her quietly. Jen's mind was in turmoil. Although knowing about the rooms having security cameras, and even the knowledge of Dan having watched the same scenes she just had, her awareness of the night was clouded. Mr. DeWight's hands moved over her shoulders and began massaging her neck, the sensation not helping as her mind reeled in shambles. "Although there may be some regret now, you were clearly willing and eager. If this tape ever came to court, I do not think anybody would believe you were coerced," he told her. Jen's mind went into shock at the mention of a court as he continued. "And as I mentioned, it is already too late. The reason I was gone yesterday was to take all of the contracts to the home office so HR could get the benefit packages done, as well as get you all into payroll," he told her quietly, his hands squeezing her shoulders rhythmically. Jen bit her tongue, suppressing a moan at the magnificent feeling of his hands on her shoulders as his voice continued behind her. "At this point everything is legal and set in stone; I am as bound to it as you are. In fact, to break it now would cost well over two-hundred thousand dollars." Jen looked up at him in surprise. "Yes, you are worth that much and more to the company," he smiled down at her, his hands squeezing her upper arms again, sending another wave of pleasure through her body. "In fact, based on the two days of you officially being a part of the company, I would estimate your presence has earned well over twenty-five thousand dollars already," he smiled down at her. "How?" she whispered, aware her body was feeling the effects of her drinks, as well as the mesmerizing motion of Mr. DeWight's hands on her shoulders. "Well, you saw part of the advertising campaign invested in you already with the vending machine. In addition, there have been other, well, more lucrative investments already made in your name that have had an immediate influx of financial benefits. That is why I want to fly you to the corporate offices next week so you can understand some of the responsibilities expected of you. For now, let me go over some of the more pressing points," he told her, his hands continuing their mesmeric squeezing of her body, slowly moving down her arms. "First, you have to realize there are corporate obligations you will be required to fulfill, as DSA girls are not just dancers, but representatives of the entire corporation; however, I understand this is all so sudden so I'll go over some of the immediate issues. As you are aware, all the girls are contracted to earn a specific amount in table dances and other house amenities," he told her as she quietly nodded, a soft sigh escaping her as his hands squeezed the nape of her neck, the sheer pleasure of the sensation overcoming her restraint. "Well, all the girls are required to pull in a nightly average of $200.00—and although I know this may sound low, you have to realize this is averaged over a seven-day work week. Unlike other agreements, the girls are not required to earn that amount each night, but as an average, so some nights they can pull in more to make up for the loss of others. The bottom line is a full week should net around $1400.00. Although I do not plan on changing the hours of operation of the Satin Kitty or ask the girls to dance more, our corporate obligations mean we operate on a full week. As most of you girls work four nights a week, that means an average night should net around $350 per girl," he explained. Jen tried to keep track of the conversation, but her mind was feeling fuzzy, wondering if she had drank too much, her lack of lunch causing the alcohol to affect her more than it should as Mr. DeWight continued. "The girls can work extra nights to make up any difference, so it is not like we are trying to screw them over. In addition, they are getting a regular paycheck, a medical and dental insurance plan, as well as worker's compensation and all the benefits of a real job," he told her, his hands continuing to slide across her skin, his fingers outlining her clavicles. "Of course, you being the corporate spokesmodel have a different earning schedule. I don't want you to be shocked when you see the number, so I will tell you right now your obligation in earning is $1000.00 a night," he said behind her. Jen's mind immediately cleared, "A thousand dollars!" she exclaimed, jerking out of Mr. DeWight's hands on her upper arms. The concept further entered her clouded mind as she realized what he was saying, "Wait a minute," she cried, "that's seven thousand dollars a week!" she said in shock, looking up at him, "That's impossible!" Mr. DeWight was smiling. "If your sole earnings were from dancing, then yes, I agree it would be too much; however, as I mentioned," he told her, turning her forward and continuing his massage, "in the last two days your investments have earned almost $25,000, meaning you don't need to dance for almost a full month before having to make up any difference," he told her. "In addition, I should state another clause in your contract is a bonus for making percentages above your goal," he said to her. "It is still too early to determine your earnings for this month, but I would expect you to get a bonus check at the end of the month for at least $10,000.00," he told her. Jen could not believe what she was hearing. Based on what Mr. DeWight was saying, she could earn almost a hundred grand a year—in bonuses alone! For the last month he had been telling her she could easily have a six figured salary when trying to get her to sign the contract, but she had not believed it. With just the bonus money alone she could pay for her and Dan's wedding as well as pay for school, even if Dan did not work. "Obviously this needs time to sink in a bit," she heard Mr. DeWight say behind her, his hands moving over her body. This time Jen did not hold back her sigh of contentment as his gentle squeezing of her shoulders sent waves of relaxing pleasure through her as he continued. "There are two other major changes having an immediate impact on you working here," he said as she glanced up at him. She made sure to move slowly so his hands would not stop their rhythmic kneading of her flesh as he smiled at her. "The first is we are privatizing the clubs," he told her. "This is something all DSA clubs have done, and it allows us to be able to control the quality and caliber of customers, as we can now screen them before they become members to enter the club. The Satin Kitty has a higher class of clientele I want to maintain, and as awareness of you improves, I do not want it to resort to a simple titty bar," he told her bluntly. "The clubs becoming private allows us to offer more personal contact with customers, as the basic laws of public indecency no longer apply. Being a private club, the patrons will not be as restricted with contact with the dancers and vice versa, something we have been able to exploit in most cities we've established clubs in," he told her. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 03 Jen's mind was too muddled for the full implications to set in as Mr. DeWight continued before she could wrap her thoughts around what he just said. "Finally, as part of your contract, you will be required to dance nude at least one set a night," he said, dropping another bomb on Jen's mind. "I can't..." she began to say as Mr. DeWight interrupted her. "Nonsense," he said, the absence of his hands from her shoulders noticeable as he again moved to his desk, once again typing on his computer. Immediately the plasma screens came alive, depicting a video of Jen dancing nude the other night, Velvet Acid Christ's 'Slut' fading into Puscifer's 'Rev-22-20' playing loudly across the speakers as she watched herself sway seductively before a table of guys in nothing more than her red boots. Interrupting the scene Mr. DeWight continued, "And let's not forget yesterday," he said as the screens changed to an image of Jen on the pole completely naked as Evanescence's 'Imaginary' blared across the speakers. This scene was much brighter as she knew it was from yesterday, dancing before the construction workers. Again Jen was reminded how she had never watched herself dance, particularly on the pole. Although others have always told her she was one of the best they had ever seen, it was not until now she realized how seductive and talented her pole dancing was. She watched herself dance for several minutes before the screens went blank and M. DeWight continued talking, moving back behind her. "As I have mentioned, a spokesmodel of DSA is held to different standards," Mr. DeWight said as he moved behind her once more. Jen was surprised when she heard the speakers beginning to play Cassie's 'Me & U' in the room, almost jerking in surprise as his hands again landed on her shoulders. As he began gently massaging her, she could not help but sigh in contentment as his voice came behind her, "I know you have some misgivings about dancing nude, so I want to help you feel more at ease. Also with the privatization of the club you need to get more used to some of the attention you may get," he told her. Before Jen could even begin to wonder what he was talking about, Mr. DeWight's hands slid down her front, slipping beneath her halter and cupping her breasts! The feeling of his rough hands on her bare skin caused Jen to gasp as she tried to lean forward to move away from him; however, her actions only allowed him to cup her more firmly as his hands slowly began kneading her chest. Unexpectedly her body flushed with desire as Mr. DeWight's voice whispered in her ear, "Relax Diamond, the more comfortable you are to an odd fondle here and there, the less shock it will be," he told her. "And that's what customers are looking for, the shock value. If you freely accept their attention they will quickly grow tired, allowing you to move on to another customer," he told her. "Men are like children, if they cannot get a rise out of somebody, they quickly lose interest." Jen sucked in a gasp as her nipple was pinched, the sudden pressure sending thrills down her body. "Now, I know you are comfortable being topless," he said, "so this won't be a problem," his voice came into her ear. Before she could grasp the situation his hands moved and unbuckled her top, the flaps of the halter spreading apart exposing her breasts as she felt them tighten in response to the cool air. "From now on, just so you are more comfortable, I think you should not be in the office unless at least topless,' he told her as he pulled her halter behind her. In almost a trance Jen leaned forward, pulling her arms back and allowing Mr. DeWight to take the halter off her, seeing him toss it onto the other chair. Immediately his hands moved back around her, continuing his manipulation of her breasts. The seductive beat of the song and the sensation of skin on skin contact filled Jen's consciousness. One of her most sensitive and sexual areas were her breasts. She had once allowed Dan to play with them for hours, the prolonged experience arousing her to a point where she had almost been screaming for him to fuck her afterwards. In the back of her mind she felt something was wrong with her behavior, but the feeling was too good as she sat still, allowing Mr. DeWight free reign as he fondled her, vaguely aware of the song changing to Goldfrapp's 'Beautiful' as he continued alternating kneading her breasts and squeezing her hardened nipples. She did not realize she had leaned back into the chair, much less having closed her eyes, becoming completely unaware of her surroundings until she heard Mr. DeWight's voice break through her trance, "Ah Tim, just in time," as her eyes flew open. Sure enough, standing right in front of her was Tim, smiling lecherously at Jen. There she was topless, her boss massaging her breasts, while he stood right in front of her! Amused at her obvious discomposure, Tim said, "I guess the devil is in for a cold spell, eh?" he said while Jen could only stare at him, unable to do anything but remain seated as Mr. DeWight's hands kneaded her fleshy mounds. "Can you believe these are not fake?" she heard Mr. DeWight say, obviously directed to Tim. Tim shrugged as Mr. DeWight's hands continued rubbing her breasts to her growing dismay, "Here, you have to feel them to believe," he said as Jen's eyes opened wide in surprise. She felt Mr. DeWight's hands slide up to her shoulders as Tim's hands moved forward, his fingers spread and making squeezing motions similar to when he had been in the room earlier. Jen tried to move, but Mr. DeWight's hands held her in the chair as Tim got closer. As a last plea, Jen attempted to beg for them to stop. "Please..." she began, immediately interrupted by Mr. DeWight. "See, she's even asking you politely," Mr. DeWight said as Jen closed her eyes in humiliation as Tim's hands closed over her breasts and squeezed. Having been used to Mr. DeWight's hands on them—the back of her mind at odds with that thought alone—she was immediately aware of the difference in sensation at Tim's hands—colder but softer against her skin. Another difference was him roughly squeezed her tits compared to Mr. DeWight's softer caresses. Jen let out a gasp, the sudden contrast of his cool hands and difference of manipulation of her flesh from Mr. DeWight's surprising her. She wondered how she had gotten into this situation, being held in the chair by her boss as a coworker groped her. Part of her mind was in shock at her allowing this to continue, another part wondering how long it could go on—and yet other darker parts of her mind wanting things she was trying not to admit. Tim's voice again broke through her reverie, "I guess it's going to be a blizzard in Hell," he said. Instantly Jen's voice echoed through the room as she yelled out. "Ahhh,"she moaned loudly in response as Tim's fingers clamped down simultaneously on both nipples, squeezing hard. The mixture of pain and pleasure soared through her body, her mind clouded by concern, lust, worry, and acceptance. As Tim began once again squeezing her breasts, Jen was aware of the song changing, recognizing 'Get Naked' by Brittney Spears. Mr. DeWight's voice came from behind her, "This song reminds me, Diamond needs to become more accustomed to being nude in front of people," he said, as Jen's muddled mind began to absorb the words. "Tim, can you help her on her feet? I think we need to help her overcome her reservations," Mr. DeWight's voice said behind her. Once again she tried to ask them to stop, whispering a soft "Please..." when she was again interrupted, this time by Tim. "If you're going to ask so politely, how can I deny you?" she heard him chuckle. Jen was momentarily glad when she felt Tim's hands leave her breasts as he grasped her wrists, pulling her to her feet; however, her relief was short-lived. As soon as she was standing, his hands moved back to her breasts, becoming braver as he moved them across her stomach, sides, and hips, sliding around her lower back before returning to his obvious fixation on her mammaries. Seeing movement to her side, she saw Mr. DeWight move next to her, his eyes watching as Tim continued groping her chest. Smiling at her, she stared transfixed as he nonchalantly reached down with one of his hands unhooked the latch on her shorts! The material immediately sprang apart, the back portion flipping back and exposing her ass while the middle portion first spread away from her crotch before sliding down her right leg. It briefly hung on her Flex garter before Mr. DeWight reached down and pulled the material down to her ankles. Jen realized she was standing there in nothing but her thong, Full Flex garters, and high heeled platform shoes while two men caressed her body. The blatant exposure sending involuntary thrills through her body. Mr. DeWight caught her attention as he spoke, "Hmm, although your thong has a release, I always find it sexier when a woman removes a thong herself. Tim, if you don't mind, can you step back please," he said. Although obviously reluctant, Tim answered, "Of course Mr. DeWight," stepping back to lean against the desk leaving Jen standing in front of them. The song ended and Jen recognized Pornographick's 'Like a Pornstar' come across the speakers as the men stood back looking at her. As if suddenly remembering something important Mr. DeWight looked at her, "I forgot to mention how unusual this situation is," both men jerking in surprise as Jen snorted in morbid amusement at his words. "I don't normally allow employees such liberties with the girls like Tim has had, particularly a chosen spokesmodel; however, this is a bit of a special occasion. You see, Tim's worked for DSA for years, and I had him take a job here to let me know how the bar worked and to see if it was worth buying. I will be appointing him as the general manager of the Wet Cherry—or what used to be the Slithering Lizard. When I asked what he wanted as a congratulations gift, he mentioned you," he said. Jen's eyes flew wide open wondering what he actually meant as Mr. DeWight continued, "Now, even I have my limits, so I am not going to give a spokesmodel to a mere general manager to fuck," he began as Jen felt an unbelievable relief flood her, "especially somebody as talented as you," he said. "That being said, I do think you can offer a bit more personal congratulations," he told her. "I think first you should start by dancing for him and taking off that thong," he demanded. Jen recognized the difference between Mr. DeWight suggesting something versus him ordering something. She was not being given a chance, realizing with her contract stating she was required to dance nude, he was not expecting her refusal. Slowly Jen began to dance to the music as the two men watched her. Although upset at her circumstances, she quickly became absorbed in the music. Her body was definitely aroused, the manipulation of her breasts and now dancing almost nude before the two men stirring something deep and dark inside her as she moved. Turning around, her back now to both me, she worked her ass, raising her arms above her head to their obvious approval. Continuing to sway her ass as she danced Jen felt her breasts sway in response to her body's movements to the seductive rhythm of the music. Although the circumstances were unusual, dancing before people was not, so her mind easily slipped into her 'stripper mode' persona. The song faded to an end as Jen turned back around, trying to figure out what the next song was, awkwardly dancing until she recognized Porcelain Black's 'I Feel Perfect' as she got into the groove of the music. Once again she raised her hands, her hair flaying around them as she moved, the two men's attention transfixed upon, making her feel more in control. Unlike a few minutes ago, this was familiar territory—dancing before men—as she moved seductively to the music. Slowly turning around, Diamond bent towards the chair, her ass sticking out towards the guys as she reached to her hips, hooking her fingers into the straps of the thong. Swaying her ass to the beat of the music she slowly bent further, peeling the thong away from her ass. She continued pulling it past her thighs as the material stretched, wedged in her slit. As Diamond moved her hips back and forth it finally sprang free with a jerk as she lowered the tiny piece of cloth to her ankles, slowly stepping out of it. Turning back around to face the two men, she swayed with the thong in her hand before tossing it towards Tim who easily caught it. He immediately put the small material to his face, exclaiming, "Damn, you are wet; these things are soaked!" Mr. DeWight laughed, "I told you Diamond was a special girl," he said as he watched her sway to the music, her bare body shining in the office light. Jen was too absorbed in the music, the men's familiarity giving her a false sense of security even under the present situation. She distantly was aware of Mr. DeWight moving behind her, her skin tingling with goose bumps as his hands slid up her back to her shoulders, the gentle caress fueling her desire further. "You are beautiful," he whispered in her ear to her delight. "I think Tim deserves a special oral congratulation for his new position, don't you," he said as he gently applied pressure Diamond's shoulders. Barely fighting him, Jen bent her knees as Mr. DeWight guided her lower. Instead of going to her knees, she squatted; her legs spread apart, her pussy tingling at the cool air against it as she crouched down in front of Tim. The song changed to something livelier, Lil Jon's 'Get Low' thumping through the office as her body immediately responded, swinging faster. Even squatted down, she knew all the moves to be swaying seductively, having practice dancing on the stage for years. As her body moved, she heard Mr. DeWight's voice, "Touch your breasts Diamond, I want to see you dance like a true slut down there," he told her. Again Diamond recognized the difference between a request and demand as she complied, moving her hands across her breasts, a small gasp of air coming out of her mouth at the sensation while her hips oscillated with the song. Closing her eyes, Jen became completely absorbed in the music, gyrating her body while crouched down and squeezing her breasts. Thanks to her previous work-out, her muscles were warmed up enough she could squat there for quite some time as she undulated. She raised her breasts rapidly to the song as the music played, in beat to the song. When the first "skeet skeet, mother fuckers" came across the speakers she bounced her breasts with her hands, alternating them as they jostled in front of her. Diamond continued undulating in a crouch to the song as the two men watched her intently. She began bouncing up and down and mimicking riding cowgirl style as the song blared the next "get low, get low, get low" refrain. Jen was so absorbed in her routine she almost did not hear Mr. DeWight's voice instruct her to touch herself. Not having any doubts to what he wanted, she moved her right hand down, sliding across her stomach moving it between her legs. When the song began with the refrain "back, back, back it up" she moved her fingers across her slit. The sensation was so incredible her head fell back, an involuntary moan coming from her as her finger was immediately drenched in her fluids, aware of how aroused she actually was. As the song blared through the speakers "wiggle with it" she began moving her finger rapidly across her clit in beat to the music while her hips rose up and down in response. Meanwhile her other hand continued to massage her breast. She no longer cared she was blatantly exposing herself before two co-workers, completely lost in her own lust. She continued fingering herself until the music stopped, once more vaguely aware of her surroundings. Crouched down in front of Tim, one hand on her breast and another between her legs, the song changed to Saving Abel's 'Addicted.' Immediately Mr. DeWight's comment came to her as the first lines of the song echoed through her head: I'm so addicted to, all the things you do When you're going down on me... Realizing what she was actually being asked to do, she prepared to tell them this had to end. She had closed her eyes, having been so completely absorbed in the music and dancing, so she opened them as well as her mouth to tell them this had to stop when her eyes widened in shock. Tim was right in front her, his pants off and his hard cock pointing straight towards her! Before she could do anything he moved forward, the head of his cock touching her lower lip as Diamond instinctively opened her mouth... A brief moment of clarity came to Jen as her past rushed into her mind. She had always been a tease in high school. In fact, it was one of the things attracting Dan to her. As they grew older she realized she truly loved him and wanted to spend her life with him. Even so, after losing their virginity to each other, her mind became fixated about what it would be like with another man. When Dan was accepted to college—her family too poor to afford sending her—she decided to put their relationship on hold. She was not as concerned with Dan straying as she was herself, as over the years, thoughts of what being with another man would be like filled her mind to almost an obsession. Dan leaving for college was one of the most heart-wrenching things she had ever had to do and she had become extremely depressed. At first she thought it was just Dan leaving, but one night she began contemplating suicide in order to relieve how bad she felt, when she admitted something was wrong. Seeing a doctor the next day, Jen was referred to a psychoanalyst who diagnosed her with low-grade bi-polar disorder. She was told it was not severe enough to warrant medication, instead instructed to change her surroundings and become more involved with her life. Sitting home alone was doing nothing to improve her moods, so on his recommendation Jen got a job waitressing a local diner. By the first week she was feeling better and even began socializing, agreeing to go out with a few people, including one of the short cooks at the diner. At the end of the night he drove her home. Jen had decided to give him a good night kiss to thank him for the ride, and as her lips met his, he immediately grabbed her breast. Jen knew she should tell him to stop but as his tongue entered her mouth, she felt her body flooded with arousal, instead allowing him to have his way with her. They made out for a while when he suddenly pushed her head into his lap. At first she was confused until she saw he had unzipped his pants, his erection sticking straight up towards her. Again Jen recognized she should say no as he pushed her head down. Instead of saying anything, she took him in her mouth. That was the first time she had sucked anybody—not even doing it with Dan—so she knew she was not good at it, but the guy told her what to do as he moved her head up and down in his lap. After a while the guy told her to get in the back seat where he pulled down her pants and fucked her. The feeling was nice, but he had ended too quickly and after essentially kicking her out of the car, Jen had gone up to her room and finished things herself, remembering the soppy feeling of her cum-drenched pussy while she fingered herself to completion. Her therapist had recommended for her to keep a diary, and although the night was embarrassing, Jen dutifully recorded everything that happened. The following week she again went out with some friends. The cook she had let have his way with her no longer showed any interest in her, having apparently gotten what he wanted, and at the end of the night another male friend took her home. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 03 Once again before she knew it he was groping her without any protest from her, eventually also having sex with her in the back seat. This guy took his time, and Jen was extremely satisfied afterwards. As with before, she recorded the events, her thoughts, and everything diligently in her journal, particularly her inability to tell him to stop, allowing him to do what he wanted to her body. A few weeks went by when the first guy she had been with, the cook, asked her out again. She was going to tell him no when he explained he had been having some family issues and that was why he had not spent any time with her, so she reluctantly agreed. They had gone to dinner and were planning on seeing a move when instead, he had driven her to an old rundown warehouse to make out and smoke a joint he had brought. Having a good buzz, they had kissed when he immediately grabbed Jen's breasts again. In the back of her mind she knew she should say no, but the attention she was getting was a huge turn on as she let him strip off her clothes. There was an old mattress in the room, and although reluctant, Jen knew she would be fucking him soon. He guided her towards the mattress, hands grasping her breasts, when she was immediately blinded by a light shining in her eyes. As her sight adjusted she realized there was another guy there, who apparently knew her date as they greeted each other. Jen had stood completely naked in front of the strange guy as her date still massaged her chest, her inhibitions lowered due to the marijuana. Her date told her the guy was a buddy visiting for the weekend and he had told him how good a fuck she was, asking is she minded him joining them. Once again in Jen's mind she knew she should say no, but as the man moved towards her, giving her a keep kiss, her body was flooded with desire. The rest of the night she had fucked first one guy, then the other, followed by both of them. It was the night of her first anal experience and Jen was insatiable as they used her. Finally they all collapsed in exhaustion on the mattress well into the night. Waking up in the morning, Jen was alone, the two guys gone. Her body was covered with hickies, bruises, and drying sperm as she grasped the seriousness of the situation. She tried to gather her clothes, only finding her jeans and an old t-shirt torn down the sides exposing the sides of her body whenever she moved her arms. Jen was able to sneak back home, avoiding her parents and cleaned up, immediately calling her therapist. After reading her journal and listening to her last sexual encounter, the therapist told her he believed he had an idea what was going on as he called in his nurse. Jen's eyes opened wide as he told her Nurse Johnson was a registered sex surrogate and he wanted to perform a quick test to verify his presumptions. She was further shocked when the doctor asked the nurse to kiss her. Once again Jen was going to say no; however, as soon as the nurse's lips touched her own, her body flooded with arousal as her tongue met the nurse's. She was barely aware of her surroundings as the doctor told her, "Normally I would make a pretense of having to do a physical exam, but the reality is I am going to feel you up Jennifer, alright?" he asked. The oddness of the situation was not lost upon her as she again wanted to say no, even moving her face away from the nurse's to say so; however, the doctor's hands closed upon her breasts and Jen let out a loud moan, the feeling sending shivers of desire through her. Then as if a switch had been turned, the doctor immediately stopped and instructed the nurse to leave the room while Jen tried to gain her composure. The doctor then explained what had happened. "I originally diagnosed you with mild bi-polar disease, which I still believe you have; however, I also think you have a combination of that mixed with severe impulse control illness. Between the two, you exhibit signs of mild depression when alone, as you have a deep desire to be wanted, particularly sexually. This causes you to become hyper-sexual, so when you are in a sexual situation, combined with your loss of impulse control, causes an inability to say no during an intimate situation. "Unfortunately to properly diagnose you would take months of therapy and observation, and I know your insurance will not cover it. Even if it did, I am not sure we would be able to diagnose you any further. Many of the symptoms you exhibit have no treatment, other than to be aware of what is going on and avoid situations where you could be placed at risk," he told her. Jen continued to see him over the next few months, but the bottom line was the multitude of mild combinations of psychological disorders made her damaged goods. When Dan had returned from college she had told him some of the diagnoses—avoiding anything about some the more intimate problems. His love for her had not diminished in college and they had quickly moved in together, re-establishing their relationship until getting engaged a few years later. Jen knew part of the reason she began stripping was due to her desire to be wanted. With no treatment available, it was one small thing she could do to keep herself in line. The rules of the club prevented anything from getting out of control and up until now, she had been able to manage her disorders. All of this flashed through her mind in seconds as Tim's cock slid past her lips, the silken flesh sliding across her tongue as the hard shaft moved further into her mouth. In her mind she knew she should say no, she should leave the room, she should quit; instead, her lips instinctively tightened around the fleshy shaft, her tongue stroking the underside of soft flesh as she created a vacuum in her mouth, sucking on Tim's cock. Although his dick was not wide—being the same size as Dan's she noted—she was surprised at its length. As her hand reached around to squeeze Tim's scrotum, she estimated him to be at least eight inches long, if not longer as she resumed going down on him. As she moved her lips over the shaft, she felt the head of his cock wedging into her throat and adjusted her angle, placing her hands against his hips for balance. Relaxing her throat, Jen continued to take his cock into her mouth, pulling his hips forward until her nose was resting against the soft nest of pubic hair, his scrotum against her chin. She became immediately aroused as she heard Tim say, "Goddamn, her mouth is like a silken furnace, I've never felt anything so good," to her dark pleasure. "And Jesus Christ, she's taken all of me in her mouth," he said in surprise. She heard Mr. DeWight chuckle in response, "I told you she was the best. That mouth is going to make me millions," he said. As the music played, Diamond began moving her head in rhythm to the song, sliding the shaft back and forth from her throat: I'm so addicted to, all the things you do When you're going down on me... Tim's hands had moved to her head, gently guiding her head back and forth as his hips moved in time with her strokes as the song played. The long cock slid deeply in and out of her mouth as she pulled out just enough to catch her breath before allowing him to thrust himself back into her throat. Diamond's mouth watered as the fleshy member moved deep into it, and unable to swallow, she let the pool of saliva come out of her mouth, feeling the warm liquid drool down her chin, and then dripping to her breasts. Jen continued sucking him off, her head guided by Tim's hands as the song ended. For a moment there was nothing but the mild slurping as Diamond sucked on the cock. Tim began thrusting faster into the back of her throat as the sounds of his cock moving in and out of her throat echoed through the office. The loud string of noises such as "Gacht...ichk...snakt..." followed by a long slurp while Jen continued to suck. The next song began to play and Diamond almost laughed recognizing N.W.A.'s 'She Swallowed It" slowing and matching the beat of the song with her head motions. Needing to catch her breath, Diamond moved her head back, the cock sliding past her lips until all but the head was out of her, her lips protruding around the head. She stroked her hand up and down the slimy shaft completely covered with her saliva, shining in the light. Once she finally caught her breath, she moved the cock back into her mouth. As Diamond sucked Tim's dick in time with the song, she listened to the words of the song, comical but appropriate to the situation played through the room. Suddenly her body jerked at the unexpected invasion of her slit, realizing Mr. DeWight was reaching beneath her with his hand. Instinctively Diamond dropped her hips lower, impaling herself on his fingers as he entered her canal, letting out a deep guttural moan around the cock in her mouth. Mr. DeWight finger fucked her vigorously as she rode his hand, the song playing around them as she continued to suck Tim off. She alternated between deep throating him and just sucking him off. As the song ended a techno-type song began, while Diamond began thrusting her hips in rhythm to the steady beat. She eventually recognized 'Put Your Hands Up for Detroit' by Fedde Le Grande. The only reason she knew the song was because Mary was into all the techno/electronic dance music. Jen's desire built as she bounced on Mr. DeWight's hand, continuing to suck Tim's cock. Abruptly Mr. DeWight removed his hand and Diamond almost groaned in dismay, returning her focus to the cock moving back and forth across her lips into her mouth. Jen lost all track of time, her only thoughts on the shaft moving in and out of her mouth. She was so absorbed in what she was doing it was not until Tim turned to the side she heard Mr. DeWight calling her name, "Diamond, Diamond, look over here please, but keep sucking," she heard. Looking over at Mr. DeWight she saw him standing behind is desk near his computer, smiling at her as she stared directly in his eyes, Tim's cock moving in and out of her mouth. She continued this way—sucking Tim while staring at Mr. DeWight when he then gave her another instruction, her mind vaguely wondering why he was whispering. "Now, I want you to pull it out and tell me how much you love sucking cock," he told her. Again in the back of her mind she knew she should say no, the whole situation already way out of hand. Yet as Tim guided her head away from his cock, it sprung out of her mouth, she instead looked at Mr. DeWight and smiled. In a husky voice she said, "I love sucking cock, I love the feel of cock inside me, my mouth, my pussy, everywhere," she said to Mr. DeWight's obvious pleasure while her hand stroked Tim's cock beside her face. She again took Tim's dick in her mouth as the song changed, immediately recognizing Benny Benassi's 'Satisfaction' as her head moved to the steady beat of the song. Tim was a stamina machine, his cock like a piston moving in and out of her throat and mouth. Diamond estimated she had been sucking him for over 15 minutes and he still showed no signs of slowing as he rhythmically guided her head back and forth to the beat of the song. Letting him guide her head, Jen rested her hands on his hips once more for balance. As if knowing she was more stable, Tim began thrusting more vigorously in double-time to the song. The room echoed with the "gachk...gaachk...ackth" repetitive sounds as he literally fucked her mouth. Due to the length of his cock, she had to time taking her breaths, becoming less absorbed in allowing him to have his way with her and instead all her attention focused on breathing. She heard Mr. DeWight's voice urging Tim on, "That's it, fuck her mouth, hold her still and feel the head of your cock down her throat." Taking Mr. DeWight's direction, Tim gave a large thrust forward, his hands pulling Diamond's head into him as her nose slammed into his pelvis, his balls pressed tightly against her chin. Tim held her clutched to his pelvis for a length of time as she began to run out of breath. She attempted to push his hips away, but he held her tightly against him, his cock jammed deep into her mouth. As she almost came to the point of panicking, Tim quickly pulled back as Jen gasped for air, a mouthful of saliva streaming from her mouth and running down her breasts and onto her thighs, long strands of spit connecting her mouth to Tim's cock. Before able to do anything else, Tim immediately shoved his cock back into her mouth, slamming her head forward as she reflexively loosened her throat to accommodate the full length of his cock without chocking as he once again held her still. Again as she felt her need for air almost to the point of panic Tim pulled back. This assault on her throat continued as Diamond realized a different song was playing, 'A History of Bad Men' by the Melvins as Tim's cock slammed down her throat again and again, long pauses between as he held her to him. "This is crazy, I can't hold out for much longer like this," she heard Tim say above her; almost thankful he was ready to cum. Behind her, she heard Mr. DeWight say, "Remember the money shot, have to have that." Before she could consider his words, Tim once again slammed his cock into her mouth and down her throat. This time instead of holding still his hips made jerking motions as she felt the head and first few inches of his cock sliding in and out of the back of her throat. Tim began thrusting so fast Diamond could not catch her breath when he jerked back, yelling "I'm cumming!" As if in slow motion she watched as his cock pulled out of her mouth, thick strands of bubbled saliva connecting it to her lips, the shaft glistening in the light of the office as he pulled further away from her opened oral cavity. Diamond stared transfixed as a white stream of fluid shot from his cock and, barely closing her eyes in time, felt the warm fluid splash across her face, the odor of Clorox and almonds filling her nose. Feeling Tim's cock across her cheek she slowly opened her eyes, watching as Tim pumped his cock with one hand, his cum oozing out the tip as he spread it across her face. Jen could feel the warm fluid dribbling down her face, a few drops dripping to her breasts as he continued to paint her face with his cum-oozing dick. Diamond looked up as Tim smiled at her, telling her, "I think Hell is now under a permafrost." She opened her mouth to give a retort; however, before she could say anything he guided his cock back into her opened mouth, the head sliding past her lips as she automatically closed them around him, taking him back into her mouth. The salty-sour-sweet combination of tastes from his cum in her mouth caused her to groan as Jen automatically began to clean him off, sucking the last few drops from his shaft. As Tim's cock slowly deflated in her mouth, Jen once again became aware of her surroundings. There was no more music playing, instead only the steady slurping sound of her cleaning him off filling the room. After a few more minutes Tim pulled back, his cock leaving her mouth with a loud "smplurch" as he pulled up his pants and thanked Mr. DeWight before leaving the office. Diamond slowly sank to her knees on the floor, absently noting the soft carpet. It came to her she had heard Tim thanking Mr. DeWight, not her, for what was without a doubt the best blowjob he had ever received. She looked over at Mr. DeWight who was smiling as he told her, "Now that's how a DSA spokesmodel behaves and should look," he said. Her mind still in shock Diamond, remained kneeling on the floor as Mr. DeWight moved towards her holding what she grasped was a hand mirror in front of her. She could only stare in shock at her face, covered in what she estimated was close to a half cup of cum on it! Asking for a towel, she was stunned when Mr. DeWight said, "No. I want you to spread it over your body and not wash it off. I want every guy you get near tonight to smell another man on you," he told her. Jen's mind could barely understand what he said as he again instructed her to smear it across her body, to coat her breasts and arms and stomach. "Good girl," Mr. DeWight told her when she finally complied. Jen could not believe she was listening to his direction as she smeared the cooling viscous fluid over her body, scooping it from her face. Her chin, breasts, and thighs were also coated with her saliva which mixed in with Tim's sperm causing her to smear it even further on her body. By the time she had smeared the fluids thin enough to dry, her entire body was coated with a thin layer of the mixture. Mr. DeWight handed her outfit back to her, as she noticed he did not give her the thong. "You don't need this," he said holding the small swatch of material up, "since you will be dancing nude anyways they are more a hindrance," he told her. Pulling her shorts on and finally her top, Jen could not help but notice the odor of cum wafting to her nostrils. Mr. DeWight went to his desk and pulled out some paper and wrote on it, tearing a piece of paper off and handing it to Diamond, "Here, you've earned this today," he told her proudly. She looked down in her hands seeing a check, her eyes opening wide at the amount—ten thousand dollars! Mr. DeWight smiled, "That is a drop in the bucket for what I'll make from your performance today," he told her enigmatically as he guided her out of his office. He told her he would call this weekend with her flight arrangements, but to plan on flying out Monday and coming back Saturday or Sunday from her corporate training. Giving her ass a squeeze, he nudged her out the door as she numbly walked away. Diamond's mind could barely wrap around what had just happened, yet the unmistakable odor of cum drifting from her body, combined with her sore jaw were undeniable evidence she had just sucked not just a man, but one of her own co-workers off in front of her boss. She felt completely degraded, humiliation overcoming her as she peeked into the dressing room, thankfully seeing nobody there as she grabbed her salad from her dresser and went out the door to the back alley to eat it. She did not care she was in her stripping outfit and not wearing street clothes outside, only wanting to get away from everybody before the evening shift started. She had also grabbed the full glass next to the salad and taking a sip, realized it was another tall glass of vodka. At this point it was exactly what she needed as she tried not to think about what had just happened. Finishing her salad and the drink, she went back in the club to call Dan. She had nothing but bad news, contemplating what she was going to tell him as the phone began ringing on the other end... ******************** Around 5:30 pm Dan began to get ready and leave the office when his phone rang, the number once again displaying the number from the club. Remembering the earlier case of mistaken identities and uncertain if it was Chuck or Jen calling, he answered with a generic, "Hello." To his surprise, it was John. "Listen Dan, I haven't had a chance to talk with Jen and I haven't seen her all afternoon, though I know she's here somewhere," he told him, "but I needed to fill you both in on a few things I found out," he told him. Dan asked what was going on as John told him, "Well, for one thing, Tim was a damn DSA employee hired to work here to check us out before Mr. DeWight bought the club," he said angrily. Dan told him Jen had found out as well, thanking him for the news as John replied, "Well, I must be the low man on the totem pole as it seems I'm the last one to know. The other thing I found out was yesterday while the girls were practicing Tim was serving them drinks, and as he was leaving today he was bragging how he had spiked them all day with that damn drug shit Mr. DeWight had brought," he said. "He was bragging about how the girls were acting like sex-starved sluts all day letting the guys grope them, the fucking bastard!" John exclaimed. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 04 Author's Note: It is recommended to read the previous chapters of this story if you have not done so already to better understand the storyline and characters... Jen woke up tightly wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, smiling as the image of Dan tucking her in when he had gotten up this morning came into her mind. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was only a few minutes after 10:00 am, earlier than usual for her to get up on a day off; however, as she debated sleep, the smell of pancakes drifting up from the kitchen made up her mind as her stomach growled in response. Stretching her body, she arched her back, causing her breasts to strain tightly against the stretch-laced camisole top she was wearing. She extended her legs, kicking the double quilts off her body as she slowly got out of bed. Seeing the image of herself in the full length mirror, she paused and admired her reflection. Her athletic body was outlined by the close-fitting lingerie she had put on the night before, showing off all her curves. The see-through laced ensemble accentuated her body more than covered it. Turning to the side and looking at her profile, her large breasts were silhouetted by the clingy top and turning back to face the mirror, saw how her areolae were clearly outlined through the laced material. The top only extended a few inches below her breasts, leaving her stomach bare, her flat well-toned midriff accessorized by her pierced navel. She was wearing a simple bar-bell with a white zirconium stud and as the light caught the gem, it drew attention to her slim waist. Again looking at her profile, she ran her hand down her waist to her bubbled ass, tight from dancing and working the pole. The close-fitting lace boy shorts she had on seemed to grip her ass cheeks like a second skin. Jen smiled at how her slim body almost looked top-heavy with her large breasts, their size and firmness often mistaken for implants. Then her smile turned into a frown remembering Tim's comments and his mauling of her tits, as the previous day's events rushed back into her memory. The recollection was so foul she considered putting on a robe; however, it being both her and Dan's day off, there was no reason to hide her body from her own man. She paraded topless in front of strangers each night, so weekends she was happy to display herself to Dan to make up for it. It was the least she could do for him she thought, as she went to brush her teeth before going downstairs. Entering the bathroom she saw the small pile of clothes from the night before as more memories of the previous day came crashing back to her. This time she could not stop the flood of images flashing into her mind: Tim watching her clean up after practice topless, seeing herself being fucked by Mr. DeWight on his television screens, yielding to Mr. DeWight and sucking Tim off and then ordered to spread his cum all over her body, dancing nude and letting the crowd touch her, and finally topping the evening off by sucking off a cop to avoid going to jail. Incomprehensibly she felt her nipples hardening as she recalled Mr. DeWight and Tim's hands upon her, then the crowd's, along with everything else she had done. Her body relished the physical attention, yet mentally she felt terrible about what had happened. Looking at the pile of clothes, she once again relived the events in her mind, wondering how she could have allowed everything to have happened. Jen had never considered blow jobs actually cheating, her reasoning being them to be only a more advanced form of hand jobs, which were basically masturbation; however, her lewd display in front of Mr. DeWight and Tim, and then the policeman, was not the behavior of an engaged woman. The breach in trust towards Dan weighed heavily upon her as her mind continued to reminisce. Upon arriving home last night she had been thankful Dan had already been asleep, heading straight to the shower to wash off not only the usual sweat covering her body from dancing, but the odor and tight film of cum from two different men. She had stood in the shower long past the point when the water turned tepid before finally getting out of the shower stall. Jen was already feeling bad for lying to Dan about the day practicing at the club, now she had even worse things to confess. And based upon the things Dan hinted at with her contract, who knows what else she would be forced to do. Although she could not come up with a way out of the contract she had been pressed into, the one thing she had decided upon was to tell Dan the truth. Arriving at the thought, she had cried in the bathroom long after her body had air dried from the shower. Moving almost mechanically in her despair, she had put on her sleeping attire and crawled into bed next to Dan. She could not live with herself after all that happened if she kept lying to him, and resigned herself to telling him everything, knowing her marriage and their engagement were doubtlessly over. As Jen stood in the bathroom to brush her teeth this morning she once again became despondent, a wave of self-pity overcoming her as she pondered accepting the twisted life Fate had now dealt her. Once Dan left her she would be alone, but still bound to the contract. With the money Mr. DeWight had hinted she could make, she would not be wanting for anything—other than her own self-respect. Last night she had lain in bed for hours thinking about what her existence would be like with Dan no longer in her life. Just the thought of him gone left such a physical ache in her chest she knew she would not care about anything that happened to her. Maybe her lot in life was to be nothing but a DSA spokesmodel, synonym for a porn star, tramp, slut. She thought of the things Dan had found in his report, about how many of the girls working for DSA ended up doing pornographic movies. Was that her eventual career advancement? Offering her body to whomever she was told to be with? As she considered what she was being maneuvered into, she realized the idea did not bother her as much as she thought it should. It was not what would end up happening to her that truly bothered her she realized—it was the loss of Dan depressing her the most. He had been a solid rock in her life, the calm in the storm where she always felt safe. Once he learned of her behavior, regardless of the circumstances, she was certain he would be through with her. She had been amazed and overjoyed at his acceptance of her infidelity with Mr. DeWight, knowing it had not been her fault; however, once she told him everything else, she knew no man could put up with so much. Jen did not know what would become of her, nor did she care once Dan was out of her life. She had little to no education, barely graduating from high school. All she had was her body and dancing. Stripping came easily to her as she was a born exhibitionist. Maybe falling deeper into the adult entertainment industry was her lot in life, she lamented. The A/C kicked on, bringing the fresh smell of pancakes and coffee to her nose as she forced herself out of her self-pity. If it was over, she decided, then so be it, but she could not lie to Dan any longer. She loved him too much and he deserved the truth, even if she did not deserve him. Her mind made up, even if it meant the end of her happiness, Jen went downstairs. Entering the kitchen Jen's train of thoughts was interrupted as she beheld Dan sitting at the table surrounded by almost three reams of papers. He had his old calculator out as well as his laptop which he was typing vigorously upon as he looked at a pile of papers to his side. Surprised, Jen asked why he was doing taxes so early when he shocked her replying, "No, I was just going over your contract." Jen's mouth fell open in shock as she exclaimed, "But that's not what I signed!" Dan shook his head. "No, you signed this," he said patting a small stack of papers in front of him. "Unfortunately, each page of this refers to the other piles. Essentially you signed an agreement to abide by all the others," he told her, his hand waving over the stacks of other papers. Jen could only stare in dismay as she tried to gather her thoughts. "He can't do that!" she exclaimed, speaking about Mr. DeWight as she wondered what the Hell she had gotten herself into. "Sadly my love, he can and did," Dan told her. Jen could only stand and stare in disbelief as she felt her world getting smaller, boxing her in. She was no longer in charge of her life, all control gone as she pondered how she could have caused such a mess. Dan smiled at her, the love clear upon his face as he told her, "Why don't you get some breakfast, this might be something to go over better on a full stomach." Mechanically Jen moved towards the stack of freshly made pancakes on the counter, her mind completely numb. The familiar Saturday repast he had made her for years felt out-of-place and soiled at the circumstances suddenly surrounding her life while her thoughts swirled in turmoil. She glanced once again at the numerous pages of her 'contract' as she realized her life was in a complete free-fall with no net to catch her. ******************** Dan watched Jen shuffle to the counter and could not believe how such a beautiful girl could have ever ended up with a guy like him. She was perfect, and the love he felt for her swelled his chest. It was because of this love he had such concern for her, trying to figure a way out of the hell before them called a contract. Dan was an early riser, smiling as he recalled tucking Jen in with all the quilts earlier. Yet even as early as he had awoken, when he went to get the morning newspaper the box of documents had already arrived. At first he thought it was something Jen may have ordered, as she was always finding new outfits and such for the club. Picking up the box he was caught off-guard by its weight and opening it and realizing what it was he had been in as much shock as Jen at the sheer number of papers. It had taken him a couple hours to arrange them logically in terms of the duties as a DSA spokesmodel, benefits and medical plans, and so forth. He was just now coming to grips over how indentured she was to DSA and knew it would take at least a few more hours to figure everything out. As dejected as Jen looked now, he knew once she learned of the contract's clauses she would be a wreck. Preparing himself to what would not be a good morning, he silently vowed to do everything in his power to make her happy once again. This was all Chuck's fault. Dan's male instincts took over as he focused upon the one pivotal cause for his woman's unhappiness and strife, all his energy focusing upon how he could get back at his rival. Looking at her again he could not believe how gorgeous she was. The morning sun shone upon her reddish brunette hair making it sparkling and golden, as if her face was surrounded by angelic light. And her body was mind-staggeringly spectacular. He felt his pulse speed up as he looked at Jen's well-muscled legs, the curved calves and toned thighs going on forever even in bare feet before arriving at her perfectly shaped ass. She was wearing her usual bedtime attire of a tank top and underwear, this morning it being a lace camisole and boy short panties. As she stood profiled to him, Dan continued to marvel at her figure, the contour of her large breasts almost defying gravity as they stood out proudly from her small frame. His eyes journeyed down to her smooth flat stomach and the outline of her flawless, bubbled ass. Her panties seemed to accessorize her ass more than cover it, the material exposing half of each cheek and molding against them, flush against her as if the lace were a part of her skin. Jen turned to get the syrup and he smiled, seeing she was wearing his favorite set of boy short panties. These were opened in the back exposing the crack of her ass, a white ribbon laced up to keep them together. He knew from experience untying the bow allowed him to take her from behind without having to worry about wasting time to take them off. Unable to stop himself, he got up and moved behind her. ******************** Jen jumped in surprise as Dan's body met hers, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her against his chest, kissing her hair. She took solace in the comfort of his arms as she reaffirmed her commitment to tell him the truth. She could do no less for the man she loved. Her body held tightly against his, she became aroused. Even as bad as she was feeling, knowing her life with him was soon to be over, she felt her body respond to his. As her breasts tightened involuntarily she wondered if she still had Ecstasy in her body, silently chastising herself—she did not need an excuse to be aroused at her own fiancé, she thought—enjoying the moment while it lasted. Reluctantly she pulled away from Dan's embrace, telling him they needed to talk. Although the mounds of paper kept drawing her attention—her desire to know how indebted she had become to Mr. DeWight another weight upon her mind—she focused her attention on Dan. Her only consolation was she would be honest to him until the end, even if it meant losing him. Trust was a major part of their relationship, and until now, she had always been honest with him. It was the least she could do for him, knowing in a few moments he would be gone from her life. As they sat down at the table, Jen slowly recounted the day before last when she had gone to practice, this time not leaving anything out as she spoke of what had occurred: her lewd behavior at being shamelessly groped by the foreman in front of his men, her resulting nude pole dance, and ending with how she had been so aroused she had rushed home to fuck him. Dan said he understood, saying he knew her drinks had been laced with Ecstasy as she held up her hand to stop his sympathy for her. Knowing her life as she knew it would be ending, she told him of the day before. She was in tears as she spoke about her meeting with Mr. DeWight, his seduction of her, her reluctant blowjob with Tim, and ultimately sucking off the cop. As she finished, she was sobbing uncontrollably, prepared to watch Dan get up and leave her forever... ******************** As Dan listened to Jen, his body was filled with greater and greater anger until he was in a seething rage. Yet his wrath was not focused upon Jen, but instead Chuck, who had manipulated her into doing everything she was ashamedly confessing to him. It did not matter whether or not Chuck knew of Jen's relationship to Dan. That he had manipulated any woman into performing such acts against her will was enough to cause anger to flood his body. Listening to Jen at how smooth and natural Chuck had acted, he wondered how many other women his rival had manipulated, blackmailed, and coerced. He recalled college, where Chuck had ended up sleeping with every girl Dan had been interested in. In retrospect he was glad, as he never would have gotten back with Jen if he had found somebody else. Now he wondered if those women had slept with Chuck willingly. With all he knew of Chuck, his gut was telling him no, they had not. It made more sense that after he had caught Chuck with each of them, they never again returned his calls and avoided him on campus. As Jen spoke, his fury grew and grew until he silently vowed to stop Chuck at whatever cost. Such manipulation of women—and his fiancée in particular—had to be stopped. His hatred of Chuck had reached its peak and he swore he would do anything in his power, even if it meant losing Jen, if he could wreak vengeance upon Charles DeWight III once and for all. Dan had thought he hated Chuck all his life, but now he knew true hatred, the emotion consuming him as he promised to eradicate Chuck and everything he valued. Dan realized Jen had stopped speaking and looked at her, seeing the alarm and grief in her face as she regarded at him. He suddenly realized she could plainly see his anger, mistakenly thinking it was directed at her. "Sweetie, I am NOT mad at you," he told her. He explained how he understood how she had been manipulated, drugged, coerced, and completely beguiled into doing everything that had happened. In the back of his mind he knew of Jen's low self-esteem and inability to say no in stressful situations, not placing any blame upon her for what had occurred. Chuck had orchestrated everything, and although a stronger willed person may have been able to refuse him, he could not fault Jen for her weakness. Seeing her tears, he quickly took her into his arms, consoling her as he repeated his thoughts, explaining he would do anything to stop what Chuck was doing to not only her, but obviously other women. They held each other for what seemed forever as they finally broke their embrace. Trying to lighten the mood, Dan told her they could do nothing if she starved, seeing a brief smile upon her face as he got up and reheated her breakfast. Jen said she was not hungry but Dan knew better as he placed the plate of pancakes and warmed syrup in front of her, smiling as she slowly took a bite. As Jen started forking the stack of pancakes with more gusto he realized how much he loved this woman and wanted to end her problems, once again wanting to drive Chuck into a hole somewhere and forget him forever. Sitting down and watching her eat, he once again admired her athletic body. He recalled how sexy she had looked dancing last night, even with his shock at her lewd behavior and dancing nude he could not deny how aroused he had been watching his fiancée seductively sway her body to the audience. Then he recalled how he had watched Chuck fucking her, feeling aroused as well. It was not the fact his rival was fucking his fiancée, but at another man lusting her so much. He felt an odd sense of pride at her being so voluptuous and coveted by other men, but always coming home to him. ******************** After Jen had finished speaking, she had become more ashamed of herself than ever. Seeing the visible anger on Dan's face she had actually become frightened, making her more ashamed of her actions than ever. Then Dan had told her he was not angry at her. Surprised at first, believing he was lying to her, he explained it was Mr. DeWight he was angry at, not her. As Dan expressed his love, Jen knew she was unworthy of such a man. Eating her pancakes—surprised at how her appetite had returned—Jen felt a change in Dan's attitude. Finishing the last forkful of syrupy goodness she looked at him, surprised to see a look of sheer lust. As if flicking a light switch her body flushed in response, her pulse rising as the cleft between her legs became moist. She was taken aback at the sudden arousal; typically it took her a while to become so stimulated. Again she wondered if there were remnants of whatever her drinks had been laced with, once more chastising herself for trying to find an excuse for her body's response to her own man. After all that happened, Jen was ready to let Dan have his way with her, willing to do anything for him in repentance to the way she had behaved at the club. Dan smiled at her and surprisingly instead of acting out upon the thoughts she was sure were in both their heads, took her in his arms and told her how much he loved her. Jen replied she was unworthy of his love as he moved back and smiled at her, giving her a soft kiss and telling her they would figure out a way to not only get out of this predicament, but get even with Chuck. Jen looked at the pile of papers on the table, her mind immediately on the contract as she asked Dan how bad it was. He told her he had read through most of the contract. "On the surface, it's pretty standard stuff," he said. "You know about the commitment to earn $1000.00 a night," he told her as she nodded. "Well, it isn't all just tips and such," he said, explaining even proceeds for club memberships were split amongst the girls. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 04 "The catch is all your benefits, taxes, and other costs are deducted from that amount before it is tallied," he told her. Seeing the puzzled expression, he explained. "It means the cost of all your benefits and stuff are deducted from your daily amount before factoring in how much you earned; you actually have to earn more to make up the difference," he said. "It's like being double taxed." Seeing her dejected face and the unspoken question in her eyes, he shook he head sadly. "I haven't come up with an exact figure, but it's looking like you need to earn at least $1500.00 a night to make up the difference." Dan knew how she would take the news, and seeing the despair in her eyes he tried to console her. "Remember, it is not just tips, but everything DSA earns because of you. Hell, who knows how much he is making in advertising with that vending machine you told me about. And he did say there were promotional events. All that gets calculated into your earnings," he tried to comfort her. Jen looked at him and saw something in his face as she said quietly, "What aren't you telling me?" she whispered. "The catch is bonuses," he told her. "Apparently accepting a bonus before the year's end resets your earnings," he explained. "So for example, if you earn $20,000 more one month, and accept an early bonus, if you fall short any other month's end you may end up owing twice what you were paid in reimbursement and associated penalties." "Fuck!" Jen exclaimed as she suddenly remembered the check Mr. DeWight had given her. She told Dan about it, reaching for her purse and showing him the check. Dan was overwhelmed at the amount of the check, wondering out loud how she could have made that much money in the one week since the purchase of the club. Pulling out his calculator and typing in the numbers, he estimated Jen would have had to have earned over $50,000 this week alone for Chuck to have given her such a bonus. Hearing the amount Jen's mouth fell open, knowing there was no way she could have earned such an amount in the two nights she had danced—that was almost as much as Dan's salary. "The contract states both tangible and estimated earnings are taken into account," he told her, "so if Chuck projected you earning more than expected for this month, it explains that amount. The problem is there is less than two more weeks to the month and you are going to the corporate offices next week. If you fall short..." his voice trailed off, both of them contemplating owing so much money. They both realized this was how the contract could suck a person into debt until they ended up owing more than paid. It also explained how women were made to do things like adult films—Mr. DeWight probably offered those as other ways they could make money to pay back their debt. Jen was horrified as she looked at the check as Dan reassured her not to worry. "How can I not worry," she cried out to him. "I had thought to use this towards the wedding, if things don't work out, I may end up owing him more!" she exclaimed. "It isn't just dancing, though," he tried to console her. "Don't forget the additional advertising," he explained. "The company is allowed to use your image for any advertisements, so any perceived revenue due to advertising with your picture is counted as earned income," he said, although he wondered how well that was tracked. "Also, remember you mentioned the water machine? Who knows how much profit Chuck is skimming from those in one month," he stated to her. Dan continued to try and comfort Jen's obvious dismay, telling her things would be alright, although inwardly he once again felt his anger soar towards Chuck, wondering how he would get back at his childhood rival once and for all. For the next few hours they studied the contract. Although the legal verbiage would pass on face value as nothing more than a professional binding of a model to her company, reading between the lines gave both Dan and Jen concern. The first section of the contract identified Jen, the company, and her generic role. Divine Silk Attractions, Inc. was stated to be an adult-oriented company specializing in mature entertainment, with multiple subparagraphs defining its holdings within the areas of exotic dancing, acting, and modeling. Another section loosely defined the provision of 'professional services' which gave both Dan and Jen concern; however, on par for the entire contract nothing was specifically identified. Jen was optimistic, stating since she was hired as a dancer the services probably were dancing. Dan—having read his company's allegations in the financial investigation of DSA—could not help but recall the sidebar comments about pornography and prostitution, but he did voice his concerns, not wanting to trouble Jen further. The summary of her job simply stated was Jen would perform the duties of her 'vocation'—defined by her major proficiencies and skillset—at various venues, both public and private in representation of the company. The wording was unusual, and Jen pondered on what her proficiencies were. She knew she was a good dancer, both on the pole and off, so it was likely referring to her exotic dancing. As a dancer she had attended various bachelor parties and such, which were considered private venues, so this clause of the contract did not bother her as much as it did Dan. There was never any overt mention of exactly what she was obligated to do other than 'fulfilling commitments of a DSA spokesmodel.' There were obvious sections covering modeling and dancing commitments, but these were again defined as 'representation of the employee or her image in person or upon media.' The section also stated DSA would serve as Jen's 'exclusive personal manager' functioning as her proxy in terms of agent, commissioner, and contractor. In print it looked innocent enough, but as you read the large heap of papers concerning the company's rights towards Jen's 'intellectual property' and highlighted the salient points of each paragraph, the bottom line was the company could ask her to do anything it—in this case Chuck—wanted. Dan had searched the internet for examples of other modeling contracts, and none of them were so binding. Most stated the manager would 'counsel and advise' the model on job offers, or the model would pay the manager a commission for each perspective engagement—her always having a say on whether she did it or not. Jen's contract had no such stipulations or restrictions on what the company—or Chuck—could ask her to do. In addition DSA received all revenue earned from any appearances—again defined as any representation of Jen in person or other forms of media—not owing her anything until full revenue was earned. Surprisingly there were also business-oriented duties she was responsible for. For example, surprisingly one of her functions was serving as liaison between all female entertainers and the company. She had been told by Mr. DeWight she was in charge of the 'girls,' but she had assumed he meant at the Satin Kitty, not every DSA club! In essence she was the union representative for them and DSA. Several sections described her roles in this position, including handling personal complaints, reviewing work logs, organizing DSA-sponsored events, coverage of duties in major events, and being the general go-between for the girls and corporate management. As with the rest of the contract much of the wording was ambiguous—likely intentional—but Jen understood there was more to her position than entertainer. Yet as much as they abhorred the contract, the alternatives were much worse. An entire pile of papers on the table was devoted to breaches of contract. Breaking it completely, as was explained by DeWight himself, would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars based upon reimbursement of any projected earnings by the company for which she defaulted on for the remainder of her tenure. Chuck's comment about breaking the contract costing over $200,000 was an understatement. Included in the pile was the overview of the payment system. Jen received a standard weekly salary as well as bonuses based upon accelerated revenue. The bonus and penalty section comprised the largest section in the pile, covering everything from late showings and non-attendances to poor performances and a vague statement about 'not adhering to the conducts and propriety expected of a DSA spokesmodel.' As Dan had explained earlier, if she received a bonus for earning more than expected, the rest of the year's expected earnings were reset. In the event she fell short for the remainder of any month after the bonus she would pay the loss in earnings, forfeit the amount of the bonus, and be charged a 25% penalty based upon that month's earnings! The convoluted verbiage left both of their heads spinning as Dan wondered out loud if she would have to accept a bonus merely to pay a previous month's penalty. They both became more and more despondent in their pursuit to get out of the contract. At one point Dan suggested opening up to Chuck, revealing his and Jen's relationship in the hopes his childhood rival would break the contract, but Jen again reminded him it was out of Chuck's personal hands, being a contract between her and the corporation, not Chuck's personal whim. They did not speak of the alternative, of Jen being bound by the contract and doing whatever was asked of her. Dan had briefly visited the DSA website at Gregg's suggestion, finding it to be a high-end porn site with a monthly fee. From the sample pictures Dan saw the content ranged from classy nude glamour photos to straight porn, to bondage and S&M, as well as sections for other fetishes such as bukkake, gangbangs, and CGI-enhanced fantasy porn. The thought of his fiancée being involved in even the mildest areas of the site was abhorrent. He also read how brutal DSA was in terms of sharing the content of its site, finding many reports how various sites had used images o DSA models and been completely wiped out from lawsuits from DSA. In fact, it had become such a common practice he read that many search sites completely excluded DSA in fear of accidentally posting media from the site and impinging upon the company's exclusive rights. If Chuck and his company were so relentless in even accidental breaches, he could only imagine how trying to get out of a contract would result. While the two of them sat and pondered what to do, they were startled by the ringing of the doorbell. As Jen was in nothing but panties and a see-through lace top, Dan got up to answer the door while she remained in the kitchen looking over the various piles of her contract. A moment later Dan returned. "Uh, it's the cop from last night," he told her to her surprise. Asking what he wanted, Dan told her he apparently had more questions to ask her. "Where is he now?" Jen asked. Dan told her he was in the living room and she looked at him in shock. Asking what the problem was Jen glared at him. "Hello? Look at me, I'm in nothing but underwear, do you really want me to go out there practically naked?" she asked him. Dan glared at her as he spat, "It's not like he hasn't see naked you at the club." "Fuck. You." Jen told. Dan immediately apologized. "I'm sorry Sweetie, I'm just pissed about this whole situation," he told her. Jen could understand, as her own reply was also due to their current stress. Their emotions were on a rollercoaster ride this morning, and both of them were frazzled. Jen needed to cover herself up, but the way to the stairs from the kitchen was through the living room. Inwardly she berated Dan, who should have known better and left the cop to wait in the den, which was off to the side from the front door, but having closeable doors to allow her to go upstairs and change. As Jen looked at him irritably she saw he was truly was sorry, apologizing to her again saying he had been too flustered seeing the cop at the door to think straight. They finally gathered their wits and Jen sent Dan to their room to get a robe. She heard Dan speaking to the cop, knowing he was telling him she would be out shortly as she waited for him to bring her something to cover herself with. In a moment Dan returned, handing her a small satin bundle of cloth. Jen raised an eyebrow as she glared at him. "Did you even think?" she said to him in exasperation, holding up the satin garment. The robe he had gotten was one of the shortest she owned, a satin half-kimono which barely went past her hips to her upper thighs. "You always wear that," he told her, his tone apologetic. "Yeah, when you're here," she told him wondering at the stupidity of men sometimes. Taking a deep breath, knowing they were both worked up at the current circumstances, she did not argue. Dan was correct, this was one of her favorite robes and she should be happy he at least noticed what she wore. The soft satiny texture was extremely comfortable, making her feel like she was wearing nothing; however, it was not a robe to wear in mixed company, her fiancé being the exception. Dan asked if he should get something else but Jen just shook her head. He had been right even if she would not admit it, the cop had seen her completely nude. In fact, she had knelt before him naked and sucked him off, swallowing his cum like a common whore, so wearing anything would be an improvement she reasoned. Putting the kimono-like wrap on, she tied the sash tightly around her waist, the thin material immediately molding to her body like a second skin. The robe left her long legs completely exposed, but covered enough to get by. She knew the back had a plunging lace detail extending down to the middle of her ass, but doubted she would be turned away from the cop for him to notice, again silently berating her significant other. It could have been worse, she finally reasoned, Dan could have grabbed one of her see-through robes. Unfortunately because of the satin material the sash had a habit of perpetually loosening, causing the robe to gape open—she would have to pay attention and adjust it often to avoid showing herself off to the policeman. Jen's mind briefly flashed back to the night before as she knelt between the cop's legs naked, her breasts swaying in rhythm to her movements as she swallowed his cock, then tit-fucked him. Her breath caught as she shook the memory out of her mind, retightening the satin robe around her waist and exiting the kitchen. As Jen entered the living room she could not help but notice the cop's appreciative look at her. Her body heated up at his open appraisal when he rose to greet her, again introducing himself. Apologizing for the unexpected visit, he stated he had a few more questions to ask. Dan was standing behind her as the cop asked if there were someplace he could speak to her alone. Looking back at Dan who shrugged, Jen told him to follow her as she led him into the den which had two paneled doors, closing them once they had both entered. "Again I apologize for the unexpected visit," Detective Geiger told her as she turned around to face him after shutting the doors, "but there were a few things I wanted to clarify and discuss outside of the club," he explained. Once more Jen noticed his open appraisal of her body, feeling her pulse speed up in response. Not for the first time she wondered if her body's sensitivity was due to the after effects of being drugged. Refocusing on the officer's presence, she told him it was alright, being her day off and having no plans. "Excellent," the cop told her as he sat down on the loveseat in the middle of the room. Jen sat in the upholstered chair across from him, a small coffee table between them, upon which he placed a small laptop. Jen could feel the satin robe riding up her hips and again mentally cursed Dan for his selection as she crossed her legs, noticing the officer's gaze on her bared flesh. Glancing down she saw the entire side of her upper thigh and hip was exposed, the tanned smooth muscular flesh drawing the officer's gaze as she asked, "So what can I do for you Detective?" Jen wanted to get this over as quickly as possible, being uncomfortable sitting across from the policeman dressed as she was. Although she had been a stripper for years and was comfortable with her body, being exposed in her own home was entirely different. She had a certain mindset when at the club—her stripper persona which did not mind, and in fact enjoyed, strangers leering at her body; however, at home with another man looking at her provocatively made her feel completely vulnerable. She knew it had something to do with the idea that while at the club she knew she would be on display before men, while home was her 'safe zone' away from the sleaze and decadence. As such she was uneasy as she sat across from the officer, her body separated from his by barely a tissue's thickness. Her thoughts again flashed back to the night before as she sucked him off, feeling a hint of embarrassment as her nipples involuntarily harden in response to the erotic thoughts. Knowing how thin the robe was, she leaned forward in an attempt not to flash her headlights at the officer. All too late she realized her new position gave the officer an unobstructed view down her robe, her cleavage more prominent due to the position of her forearms, pressing her breasts together. Once again she silently cursed Dan for his choice in cover-ups. To take the policeman's attention from her body, she asked if he wanted anything to drink. The officer openly smiled and she blushed, recalling drinking from his cock the previous evening. As he told her he was fine, his smile grew and Jen knew his thoughts were on last night's encounter, her body reacting in arousal. As Jen sat wondering at her body's response, the officer opened and booted up the laptop, thankfully breaking some of the sexual tension. "I wanted to confirm some things from last night," he told her, once again asking her vital information—where she was born, her date of birth—pretty much repeating what he asked the night before. His voice was the quintessential cop, having little emotion in his tone while his eyes continued to roam across her figure, as if memorizing every inch of her and the slightest movement. Jen recalled the cop writing all the information in his notepad at the club, so he should have known most of the answers, but she dutifully responded to his inquiries. Watching him type the information into his laptop she wondered if he were merely verifying her answers; then she began to notice a subtle change to the questioning. Unlike the previous night, this morning he also asked questions relating to the club and her job—how long she had worked there, when Mr. DeWight had bought it, when she met first him, and so forth. It soon became obvious the questions centered on Mr. DeWight, not her. As she answered the questions Jen could not help but notice the man's continued gaze upon her; although he never paused in his questioning, his eyes roamed across her body, looking at her not as a person but an object, the same leer she saw each night she worked. The difference was the change in environment. The cop was looking at her as Diamond the stripper, while she was in her 'homemaker' mode as simply Jen Simmons. Regrettably she was too flustered to mentally switch her thought processes, wondering if this were the reason the cop wanted to question her outside of the club—to make her uneasy in the hopes of catching any lies. As his attention briefly returned to his laptop typing her last reply, Jen looked down realizing her robe had inadvertently spread open, the two halves separating to form a large 'V' down to her navel, the parted halves of the satin revealing her lace camisole and exposing most of her upper torso! Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 04 In an effort to cover up, Jen shifted her position, re-crossing her legs and pivoting slightly to the side; however, the movement only caused the robe to open further. If she stood up to adjust it, the robe would be gaped open, not even closed where the sash wrapped around her waist. Aware of the silence within the room, Jen recognized the officer had stopped typing. Looking back at him she saw his stare had predictably moved from her legs to her chest, the half-opened robe drawing his attention. She once again felt her skin redden, only no longer in embarrassment, but excitement. Her breath becoming shallow as she wondered what was wrong with her. She did not want to make a big deal out of being exposed—she was a stripper after all—but she knew if she shifted any more the robe would open completely. Even so, she attempted to discretely reposition the folds and close the front; however, her movements only caused one half of it to slide off her shoulder. At this point she gave up the battle. Short of standing up and blatantly retying the robe, she was going to have to live with knowing half her body was exposed to the officer. She recalled Dan's statement earlier—the cop had seen her in a lot less—so she let the folds go, resigned to her wardrobe malfunction. Her mind pre-occupied with her clothing problem, the cop had to repeat his question, "So what are your personal feelings towards Mr. DeWight?" Jen's attention immediately focused back to the cop, completely forgetting her attire. Looking at the cop, she realized he was no longer distracted by her attire, instead watching her face intently instead of her body. "If you are asking if I am having a relationship with him, the answer is not only no, but hell no," she told the cop adamantly. "I love my fiancé; and before you go into the whole 'showing off my body to strangers' and 'how I can love him,' it is a job, nothing more. We need the money, and this is what I've done for years and the pay is good," she told him. His eyes move down to her scantily clad body once more and she knew he was recalling last night as she continued, "And what happened last night? That was completely extenuating circumstances; I don't normally act that way, nor do I typically dance nude. It's just one more thing that bastard has manipulated me into," she told him in the attempt to explain herself. "So you have no feelings for Charles DeWight?" the officer asked again. Sensing his full attention on the question Jen spoke the truth, having nothing to hide about her feelings of Mr. DeWight. "Of course I have feelings for him," she replied. "I despise him, I loathe him, I detest his existence. He has manipulated and coerced me into signing a contract I did not want to sign, has intimidated and pressured me into doing things I would not do under any normal circumstance, including what occurred between us last night, and the bastard pretty much drugged me and raped me," she told him honestly. "In fact, I wish him the swiftest and most expedient trip to Hell as possible," she said vehemently. The detective was visibly taken aback by her candid reply. "Do you wish to press charges?" he asked. He did not seem surprised when Jen told him no. "It would just be my word against his," she explained, not wanting to go into the details of being filmed and even having seen the tape. She agreed with Mr. DeWight's observation about her appearing willing on the tape, too drugged to offer any resistance to his advances. "Don't get me wrong," she told the officer, seeing his face go back to its stoic demeanor as if he had heard dozens of similar complaints from women too afraid to come forward. "I'm not afraid of the bastard. There just would be no case. Trust me, if there was anything I could do to see that asshole rot in a hole somewhere all his life I would jump at the chance," she told him passionately. Surprisingly the cop smiled, his grin reminiscent of a child finding a prize in a box of cereal after opening hundreds of boxes and finding nothing. "So you would not be upset to learn he is under investigation for various crimes?" the detective asked tentatively. Jen noticed the line of questioning had once again changed. No longer being a rote series of questions about her work at the club, his questioning was more cautious, as if fishing for information. Jen wondered if he still thought she had some hidden relationship with Mr. DeWight as she told him truthfully, "Upset? No officer, I would not be surprised or upset, in fact I hope you find what you're looking for and throw his ass in a cell. I would be celebrating my freedom along with every other girl that bastard has manipulated. What exactly are you getting at?" she finally looked directly at the policeman. ******************** Patrick Geiger stared back at the beautiful, angry woman before him wondering if this was the holy grail of leads or a complete dead end. A DSA spokesmodel not yet under Charles DeWight's rule, who in fact, was pissed off enough at him to not care what she said. Earlier when she came out of the kitchen in her short white satin robe he had literally lost his breath at her beauty. He had known she was good looking from the night before, but was aware of the magic a club—particularly a strip club—could do to a woman. The dim lights and flashing strobes, combined with quarts of make-up and foundation the girls wore hid all blemishes and imperfections, made the ugliest girl look like a wet dream. Most girls at the club could be ranked an 8 or 9 out of 10 on the stage; however, in normal daylight the same girls barely ranked above a 6. Not the woman before him. If anything, she was more beautiful in the light of day, her natural beauty unblemished by make-up or poor lighting. She was stunning, as in supermodel material. She had obviously been lounging in the kitchen on her day off, wearing no make-up or dressed to impress, yet she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen—her face extraordinary, almost angelic with her natural beauty. He estimated her to be around 5'8", maybe 5'10", roughly 110-120 pounds; her measurements in the 35-24-34 range, although her large breasts were definitely D if not double D size. As he looked at her figure, he appreciated her muscular legs and arms, as well as her bubble-shaped ass and prominent full breasts. Admiring her beauty he wondered how he had not noticed it the night before. Then again, he had been focused more on her mouth—or what her mouth was doing to him—to care if she were a beauty queen or not. In truth, for all his training of observation enforcement, what he remembered most about last night was his own surprise as he came inside her mouth. For one thing most working girls did not allow it—and the ones that did quickly spat it out; however, this girl not only swallowed his load, but continued to suck him until he was completely dry. Still, as unusual as that had been, what surprised him most was not her actions but his. In all the years of being on Vice, he had had his share of blowjobs from hookers, strippers, and even a few housewives intent on saving themselves—or surprisingly their abusive husbands—from being taken into custody. In all those years he had never been able to have a girl finish him orally. In the rare times he had cum, he had been the one tugging his flesh to release on her. His mind flashed back to cumming in this woman's mouth, his astonishment as he clutched her head, ramming her face into his pelvis as she deep-throated his cock, milking him dry. He felt his dick stirring in response as he reminisced and looked at the beautiful woman in front of him. Having heard the argument between her and her fiancé in the kitchen, he knew she was not purposely dressed to be seductive; however, she had a body women would die to have, and men would kill for to possess. The short white robe accentuated her body, barely reaching to the top of her thighs and leaving her long muscular legs bare, while the thin material suggestively hid the trim, large-breasted body beneath. His watched her again struggle with the satin robe, his mind back to the present. The allure in the current situation was the knowledge of her not purposely exposing herself to him, contrasted to her at the club where it was her job. As such, every movement led to him wanting to see more and more of her flesh. She could not help but notice the way he was looking and Geiger could see her embarrassment, the reaction turning him on even more. He understood what was happening to her, and one of the reasons he had decided to visit her at home instead of the club. Although her occupation was exposing herself to strange men, being in her own home placed her in a completely different mindset, made worse attired as she was before him. Focusing his attention back to his questioning he almost stopped when he raised his eyes. Her robe was still skewed off one shoulder, but his attention was drawn to the obvious silhouette of her erect nipples against the satin material of the robe, the nubs visibly outlined through the thin fabric. Dreamily he felt the urge to reach out and grab her breasts, to find out if they were fake or man-made as he forced himself to look at her face, asking about her relationship with Charles DeWight. He once again concentrated on the anger building in her eyes—not at him, but each time he mentioned DeWight's name, wondering if he could be honest with her. From what his research and questioning revealed, he was inclined to believe she would agree with his proposal; however, he needed to know if what she had done last night to him was coerced or not, as a willing informant was better than a reluctant one. His section chief would have his ass in a sling if he found out what Geiger was contemplating. ******************** Jen noticed the cop's gaze moving down to her chest; in fact, her body involuntarily reacted to the attention as her nipples hardened and her breasts tightened. Finally, licking his lips like he was trying to gain his composure or taste her, he asked her a question that had she been clairvoyant, would know it would change her life forever. "Would you be willing to help put him behind bars?" he finally asked her. "Or more to the point, as I can clearly see the answer on your face, how far would you be prepared to go to put him in prison for the rest of his life?" he inquired. As the detective looked at her, all stray erotic thoughts fled from Jen's head, her mind becoming focused like a single laser of light. She recalled Dan's hatred of Mr. DeWight, how the man had purposely made Dan's life hell, lowering his self-esteem and using Dan's kindheartedness to his own advantage. How the same man was ruining their current lives, not even aware of what he was doing, as if he performed such acts of cruelty in the regular course of his life. He had purposely drugged and seduced her to sign herself into a long-term contract, forced her into dancing nude and permitting her to be groped by customers, and then manipulating her to have oral sex with not just one, but two men. Dan had said they would find a way for her to break the contract; however, the reality of the situation was she was completely and legally bound to it. She recalled his company's investigative report about the accusations of prostitution and pornography and although they had not voiced it, if Mr. DeWight told her to star in a pornographic movie, she would be legally bound to do it. Morally she could refuse, but the contract was immutable and if she refused, the cost of fines was staggering. Her despair at being bound by the contract returned; however, she realized there may be an available option to get out of it. If Mr. DeWight was imprisoned she would have a case to get out of the contract without any penalties citing his illegal activities! Seeing a light at the end of a tunnel, she asked quietly, "What do I need to do?" "First, I ask that what I'm about to tell you not leave this room, not even to your fiancée," the officer told her as he glanced to the closed doors of the den. "Charles DeWight has been under investigation for several years for various crimes, but each time we think we have enough evidence against him, he figures out what is happening and gets away clean," he told her. "We believe he has a mole in the department or even on our team, so what I am telling you is strictly between you and me," he told her. Jen asked why she could not talk to Dan as the policemen told her, "We know of your fiancé's past with Mr. DeWight, that they were childhood friends and even roomed together in college. We have also noticed him reaffirming that relationship recently," the cop told her. Jen laughed, seeing the officer look at her in surprise. "Officer, I can tell you with complete certainty Dan hates Mr. DeWight even more than myself. In fact, this morning he was so angry I thought he was going to do something violent," she explained to the cop. Seeing the doubt in his eyes she told him, "As much as I despise Mr. DeWight, it is nothing compared to the loathing Dan feels towards him. If you would just talk to him, you'll see," she said. She briefly described how Mr. DeWight and Dan grew up, how Dan had always been bullied; then talked a bit about what happened from what she knew of their college experiences; finally talking about recent events and the complete coincidence of Dan being the realtor for the clubs Mr. DeWight bought. She left out her own events, other than to say her and Dan had thought it best for Mr. DeWight to not know of her and Dan's relationship. "Wait a second, are you telling me DeWight doesn't know you two are engaged?" the officer asked incredulously. Jen laughed. "Hell no, he doesn't even know we've ever even met," she explained. ******************** Patrick Geiger had doubts about the stripper's comments concerning her fiancé's relationship with Charles DeWight. He had done the research on Daniel Jeffries himself. The Jeffries and DeWight families had been close, spending summer vacations together, attending school and recreational functions together; the typical close family friends that were more family than friends. In every picture he could find, both Daniel Jeffries and Charles DeWight III had been together. They had even been roommates in college, and although there was no record of them having contact the last few years, their recent re-acquaintance was highly suspect. The one thing his team had not been able to explain was why DeWight had bought the club his childhood friend's fiancée had worked and made her the DSA spokesmodel. They had attributed it to being a favor to Mr. Jeffries in some sort of sick, twisted voyeur fantasy; however, as he re-sorted the facts, he was amazed at the actual circumstances. He once again expressed his doubts as the exotic dancer leaned forward, imploring him to at least talk to her fiancé. Once again his eyes drifted to the robe, now completely opened, his eyes taking in the fleshy mounds of her breasts bulging from a lace top. The right side of the robe which had fallen off her shoulder had slid to the side past her breast and he held back his surprise and excitement seeing the outline of her areola through the lace top she was wearing beneath the robe. Once again the woman's attractiveness held him captivated as he reluctantly told her he would consider it, but needed to ask her a few more questions. Foremost in his mind was how a man could allow such a beautiful woman to be a stripper. From his investigation he knew Miss Simmons had been a dancer long before DeWight had bought the club. Voicing his query, the woman leaned back, readjusting her robe to his mixed emotions of disappointment and relief. "Dan hates that I dance," she explained, "but he puts up with it because we need the money. My parents could never afford college, so while Dan was away, I tried odd jobs waitressing. At first it was in small diners and I earned shit for wages, but then took a job cocktail waitressing at the club. That was about seven years ago and the club has changed names and owners several times, but I came realized my body earned me higher tips than the other girls. Back then we wore different outfits based on a daily theme—racing girls, bikinis, schoolgirl outfits, that sort of thing—and I learned to show off as much as I could for tips. Then one night a bunch of the dancing girls were out sick with the flu and needing the extra money, I volunteered to fill in," she told him. "The rest, as they say, is history," she laughed. "But again, how does Mr. Jeffries feel about it?" he asked. "As I said, he hates, it, but it puts food on the table. Dan's paycheck is alright, but his commissions are too spotty to plan anything for the future. We've been saving up to get married and for me to go back to school and find a real job—this wasn't my first choice in careers, but as I said, I make good money. Honestly I enjoy the attention I get, and I think Dan secretly likes the idea that although other men get to look, he is the one I come home to each night," she explained. Not for the first time in his career Patrick Geiger wondered at what drove some men. Personally he would never allow a woman of his to work at such a club, although he did feel his pulse race at the admission if he had such a beautiful woman as Miss Simmons he would enjoy showing her off. Still, a trend towards exhibitionism did not explain everything he knew about the woman, so he decided to be blunt. "So why become a DSA spokesmodel?" he asked. "You do realize Divine Silk Attractions is more than just a strip club organization," he told her, "and DSA girls do more than dance." The woman's face became crestfallen as her eyes watered. His cop's intuition kicked in as he realized he had chosen the right tactic. It was evident although she knew exactly what sort of work was done by girls who worked for the company, she was reluctant to acknowledge it. "You have not agreed willingly, have you?" he asked quietly, recalling her comments about being drugged and possibly raped. He handed her the box of Kleenex tissues on the table next to the loveseat, and as the woman took a moment to compose herself, he once again looked her over. If what she said was true and Charles DeWight did not know her relationship with Mr. Jeffries, it made more sense. He and his team had wondered at the acceptance of Mr. Jeffries allowing his fiancée to sign a contract to become not only a porn star, but a highly paid prostitute, assuming it was a fetish thing. Factoring in DeWight not knowing they were a couple, her circumstances adhered more to DeWight's standard MO and she was simply collateral damage, Mr. Jeffries and Charles DeWight's relationship merely circumstantial. In the years they had been investigating Charles DeWight, they found one common drive from the man—he always got what he wanted by any means necessary. In terms of beautiful women, many worked willingly, the man having a cunning and sharp mind combined with a gilded tongue. After dealing with him last night, Geiger knew DeWight could talk his way through anything; however, if words failed him, there were other methods—which had caught the attention of law enforcement. Over the years DeWight had perfected his technique of forcing women to do what he demanded if they refused him. Initially it began with threatening and following through with physical violence. There were records of assault and battery cases all over the country with his name on them; however, none of the woman ever testified, and some actually disappeared. Further investigations led nowhere, but it was enough of a pattern to draw the attention of his team. As DSA became more profitable over the years, DeWight became more devious. Surrounding himself with the best attorneys money could buy, he put the law on his side, binding women with legal contracts, coercing them through blackmail or other means into signing their lives over to him. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 04 There had been several court cases where women had attempted to get out of their contracts, but DeWight had an entire army of lawyers and corrupted politicians at his disposal. In all the cases charges of coercion and blackmail were entirely dismissed due to lack of evidence. His defense cited Divine Silk Attractions, Inc. was an adult entertainment company, and the women had signed the contracts with full disclosure, so there could be no accusations or misunderstanding of their intended roles in the company. Not content with winning the cases and having the law on his side, DeWight counter-sued for their refusal to work as breach of contract, resulting in the women losing and being left destitute. If Charles DeWight could not have something, he crushed it. It was the missing women who were the reason Geiger's task force was assigned to the case. These women never appeared in court and upon follow-up, had completely disappeared. There was never any indication of foul play and in fact a couple women were found months to years later pulling tricks and starring in hardcore pornography—exactly what they had refused to do and had gone to court to prevent. Whenever questioned they would instantly clam up when DeWight's name was mentioned, saying they were fine and the previous accusations were a misunderstanding. Geiger's team had tried to pursue the legality of the contracts in the hopes of slapping human trafficking charges, but it had been impossible to obtain any copies of the full contract. All had been sealed by the courts and prevented from becoming public record, "to protect both parties' propriety." In the four years they have been investigating him and his company, every woman they had to deal with was after-the-fact and DeWight had cleaned his tracks. Now here was a woman right before him in the early process of falling into DeWight's devices. He needed to know how she had gotten to where she was before soliciting her aide. "In order for us to do anything, I need to know exactly what happened, how you were manipulated into signing your contract," he told her. Reluctantly the stripper described of her first meeting with DeWight, how he had charmed all the girls at the club. Introduced as an investment partner, he had evidently smooth-talked the previous owner—Willie Franklin—into selling the club when the girls did not even know it was for sale. Geiger had a suspicion Mr. Franklin was as seduced as the girls by DeWight's silver tongue. In fact, knowing DeWight paid the asking price of the club without any haggling he speculated the price had been set by DeWight himself beforehand. Then the woman talked about more recent events. She described being drugged and seduced into having sex with DeWight, and in the aftermath, signing the contract; how the girls had been told to earn extra money on their day off, again being drugged and acting completely different than normal; and finally finishing with what happened the night before and performing oral sex with him. "I do want to apologize for that," Geiger told her. "I know the club is wired and DeWight expected it to happen, probably looking for a sleazy Vice officer he could become buddies with. Now that I know the full story, I think he was playing with both of us, the man is a sadistic and clever bastard," he uttered to himself. "No need to apologize," she told him. "I could have said no, I could have walked away, I chose what I did," she told him, then looked up at his face and said, "And on some level, enjoyed it." Blood rushed to Geiger's crotch as he looked at her, seeing the truth in her eyes. Moving his gaze lower he saw the robe—bless it's heart, he thought—had opened up again, uncovering her amazing cleavage, the tops of her firm breasts lifted by the tight lace camisole top. Unwillingly his thoughts went back to the night before as his cock slid up and down between those very same breasts, his hands clenching at his desire to again know if they were real or not. With effort he focused back on his questioning. "Unfortunately, you are correct about pressing charges," he told her grudgingly, "there is little to prove you were coerced into signing the contract, especially if what you say is true and DeWight has the encounter filmed. Too much time has elapsed for a valid drug test, so that is a dead end," he told her sadly. "But there is at least one avenue to pursue," he told her. "We have never been able to get our hands on any of DSA's contracts, so if you are willing to lend yours, I can have some of our legal experts review it for possible loopholes," he said. Seeing her look of hope, he quickly added, "Mind you I doubt they will find anything substantial. Those contracts have gone before court several times and the cases dismissed," he explained. "I understand," she told him unhappily. "We'll do our best," he told her, wanting to give her some hope. "You said there was a way to put Mr. DeWight in jail?" she asked. He immediately followed her line of reasoning. If DeWight was imprisoned, there was a possibility of the contract becoming nulled in retribution of illegal activity. Putting on his interrogator persona once again, he looked at the woman. "You've explained your fiancé's reluctance to you dancing, what about your other performances?" he asked her. "If you mean what happened between you and me, I confessed to Dan. He knows this was all due to Mr. DeWight and forgives me, although I have yet to forgive myself, no offense," she told him. "None taken," he told her. "No, what I mean is about the videos you've recently starred in as a DSA spokesmodel?" he asked her. ******************** Jen looked at the officer in bewilderment, not understanding what he was asking. She saw him look at her questioningly, and then began typing on his laptop, turning it around to face her. At first Jen did not understand what he was doing, until she realized a video was playing on the laptop, music playing in the background. She immediately recognized Gary's voice over the cheap laptop speakers announcing, "I again introduce, Diamond!" Hearing her name, Jen focused upon the screen realizing it was a video of the club. She finally recognized the song as Madonna's 'Justify My Love' when a bunch of cheers came across the speakers and she watched in horror as, on screen, she got on the stage completely naked, slowly strutting around the pole. The cop's voice startled her and she looked up at him. "I take it you did not know about this?" he asked. Jen shook her head, immediately drawn back to the video playing as she watched herself finish a spin around the pole on her knees, crawling across the stage naked, her breasts swaying with each movement, to a group of workers holding up cash. Jen realized her performance on her day off in front of the workers had been filmed. "How did you get this?" she asked as she watched herself mimicking fucking the stage. Her image on the screen tilted back, her breasts tight against her chest as she planted her feet firmly on the stage and lifted her hips, exposing her crotch to everybody. In horror Jen watched as the camera zoomed in on her slit, her labia puffed and glistening from her use by the foreman earlier as the crowd screamed over the cheap laptop speakers. The cop's voice broke her reverie on the screen. "They are posted on the DSA website. With the investigation going on we have a subscription to monitor all sites owned by the company. This was posted Thursday evening," he told her. Jen realized it was posted the same night it had occurred, when something else the officer said came to her. "You said," she said, licking her lips from a mouth that had gone dry, "you said there were more?" she asked, looking up at the officer. He nodded and turned the laptop around. She heard the video stop as the beginning of Evanescence's 'Imaginary' began playing. A part of Jen wanted to watch the video, as the girls had told her it was the best performance she had ever done on the pole; however, she was too shocked at the discovery of being filmed as the laptop back around. "This one is a bit more graphic," he told her with some reluctance as Jen looked at the screen. Knowing Mr. DeWight had taped her practice performance, she reasoned this was the other stage routine he had shown her in his office. Initially the screen was black, but slowly faded into view as Jen looked in surprise at herself sitting down. She was wearing her purple halter, which made her realize this was a tape from within Mr. DeWight's office yesterday! At first there was no sound, watching in morbid fascination as Mr. DeWight's hands moved to her shoulders. The video was angled to only showing herself, so all you could see were a man's hands massaging her as she watched the hands moved down her arms. Her image on the screen close her eyes, overcome by the sensation of the man's hands—Mr. DeWight's—as they rubbed her neck and arms, her mind recalling the situation vividly. Unable to pull her eyes away from the screen, she watched as the hands slid down the front of her top, squeezing her breasts. To Jen's horror she saw the image of herself on the screen lean into the blatant groping. Although she knew her movement was to get away, on the video it looked like she was purposely leaning into his grasp. Jen's mouth became dry, her heart beating rapidly as she watched her top removed, exposing her breasts to the screen as Mr. DeWight's hands began to knead them, the fatty flesh bulging obscenely between his fingers as he squeezed. Jen could only stare as he conspicuously pinched her nipples, hearing the first sound over the speakers—her gasp and moan of pleasure! "Why don't I hear him?" she asked to nobody in particular, her mind too focused on what was before her, "he was talking the whole time," she said. The cop answered, his voice coming to her vaguely, "He obviously dubbed the recording, there is no talking beyond...uhm," he paused as Jen looked up at him and he finished, "beyond a few moans," he said. In horror, Jen wondered was else was on the video as she reached for his mobile mouse. "May I?" she asked absently. Before the cop could say 'Yes' she advanced the video. Not unexpectedly, but a shock still the same, the scene showed her on her haunches, sucking Tim's cock. She could only stare as she watched herself deep-throat him, the sounds of her moans easily coming over the music—Fredde Le Grande's 'Put Your Hands Up For Detroit'—playing on the speakers. Jen watched transfixed as her head turned towards the camera—obviously somewhere on Mr. DeWight's desk—the cock pulling out of her mouth. With her hand stroking it to the side the camera focused on her face as her voice came across the speakers loudly, "I love sucking cock, I love the feel of cock inside me, my mouth, my pussy, everywhere." "Turn it off!" Jen cried, pushing the laptop away from her and sinking back into the chair. She sat there in shock, no longer aware of her surroundings as her mind tried to process what she had just learned. As with the video of her and Mr. DeWight, although she knew in reality she had been opposed to the situation, Jen could not deny on the screen she looked to be fully enjoying the experience. And what Mr. DeWight had made her say! She had been too absorbed in what was happening to think straight, merely repeating what he told her to say, but now she felt hopelessness return to her as she sat in the chair, wondering what had become of her life. ******************** Patrick Geiger realized for the second time today their investigation had followed a wrong tangent. After seeing the videos posted to the DSA website, they had assumed the woman had willingly taken the role as spokesmodel. They had known the stage routines were taken during the club's normal hours, which could have been done without her knowledge; however, the tape she had just seen was of high quality, and they had thought it was a staged scene. He now realized even this filming was done without her knowledge, DeWight recording what he had forced her do. He felt sorry for her; however, a case was a case and he wanted Charles DeWight behind bars. Not for just what he had done to this woman, but his own personal reasons. As the woman cried out "Turn it off!" and sank back into the chair, he saw she was in shock by what she had seen, having no previous knowledge of the videos existence. Although he felt remorse for her situation, as a man he could not help but stare at the barely clad woman before him. Her robe had completely pulled apart, uncovering her half-top lace camisole and matching boy short panties. His eyes were once again drawn to the outline of her areolae through the lace, then moved down to her bare stomach, ending focused on the crotch of her panties where he saw the outline of the thin landing strip of pubic hair. He had seen her naked, but covered with only half-glimpses of her body now stirred him more than seeing her at the strip club. He recalled the image of her being fucked in the other video he had not shown her, now realizing it had been with DeWight. When his team had first watched it her reactions were of enjoyment, not reluctance as he thought of her breasts bouncing with each thrust. In some sick way he wanted to see that again, only in person as he stared at her in the chair. Finally his cop intuition kicked in, pushing his illicit thoughts from his mind. This woman could be used to further the investigation, so he told her quietly, "This is what Charles DeWight has done to you without you even being aware. It will only get worse. The contract you signed gives him rights to everything about you. I have seen it before, although you may be reluctant, eventually you will give in. Whether it is due to being drugged, blackmailed, or physically abused, DeWight will not stop until he has his way," he told her. The woman stared at him. He had seen the look on her face a thousand times, one of shock, incoherency, and bewilderment after a major accident. Yet he knew his words were getting through to her as he continued speaking. "It is inevitable what is going to happen," he repeated regretfully. "Help us. You are on the inside, you are a DSA spokesmodel so have access to parts of the company we don't even know about," he told her. "We have tried countless times to plant somebody into the company, but they have all been fired for various contrived reasons," he explained. "Obviously their covers had been blown, be we don't know how. You are an outsider. If you can get us any evidence, we may have a way to put this bastard away once and for all!" he told her. He stared at the woman as she sat in her chair looking at him. Once again he felt his pulse quicken at her sensual attire, his mind again going down a dark path until she said something, breaking his reverie. "Excuse me?" he asked her. "This explains the check," she said again. Asking what she meant, she told him about her bonus check, surprised at the amount. Looking at the Diamond website and the number of hits her videos had received, he nodded. "Actually, that makes sense," he explained. "These videos have over 10,000 followers after only a few days. If any accounts are new, the revenue can be attributed to you. We know the contracts have a generous bonus system, but they can suck you in until you end up owing the company more than you were paid, but this website does gain a lot of subscribers," he told her. "We need to tell Dan," she blurted out. Patrick shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to expose their investigation, as well as his cover. He had taken a great risk to involve the girl, if she was wrong and her fiancé was involved with DeWight, years of investigation work would be blown, and the loss of his partner would go unavenged. "Please," she begged seeing his reluctance. "At least hear him out. I guarantee he hates Mr. DeWight even more than I do, and..."she paused, resigning herself, "and once he sees these videos, although he may hate me, he'll hate Mr. DeWight even more," she told him. "Ma'am, I am taking a great risk even talking to you. If you are wrong, there are lives at risk in this situation; your own may be forfeit," he told her gravely. "I have seen what Charles DeWight can do, and you cannot begin to imagine what he is capable of," he told her. "I'm sure," she whispered. Patrick Geiger felt his resolve dwindle. He would have liked to have said it was his intuition, but there was something about a half-naked woman who had sucked you off the night before pleading with you to break your steadfastness. He knew this woman was on the edge, and reluctantly realized even if he told her no, she would tell her fiancé everything. With great resignation, he nodded. As the stripper stood up—absently readjusting her robe—and went to the doors to call in her fiancé, Patrick Geiger mentally kicked himself in the ass several times for not only telling the woman about his investigation, but now involving a POI—person of interest. Yet as he mentally chastised himself, he could not help but watch the stripper's long legs walking away. He thought it was a shame she was bare-footed, as some white pumps would have complimented her outfit and been incredible. He noticed her robe was laced in the back, dipping low enough to see her lacey short panties before she stepped out of the room, re-entering a few moments later with her fiancé, Mr. Daniel Jeffries. As the couple sat across from him in the two upholstered lounge chairs, Geiger noted the woman was more at ease around her fiancé, sitting on the chair with her feet tucked underneath her. His stare followed the tanned lines of her folded long legs to her shapely feet resting against the smooth flesh of her ass cheek, exposed due to her current position raising the hem of her robe almost to her hips. He adjusted his scrutiny from the woman to the man, seeing an average looking guy with a slight balding spot on his crown which would lead to baldness by the time he was in his forties. Absent-mindedly Geiger wondered if the man would end up shaving his head or doing the 'flip over' and growing one side of his hair to comb over the spot. Then again, maybe some Rogaine action would fix it. Taking a deep breath to sort out the thoughts in his head, he once again went into interrogator mode. He began planning several questions in advance, some seemingly random, in order to not divulge exactly what he was asking; however, looking at the man's nervous face, he decided upon a different tactic, not speaking at all and letting the suspect talk, as such nervousness did not hide lying. Leaning comfortably back into the loveseat he said to the man, "So tell me about your relationship with Charles DeWight III." A half-hour later Patrick Geiger admitted silently he had made yet another mistake. He did not admit to making any mistakes very often, let alone so many in a single day. He was characteristically diligent in his research of suspects; often causing others on his team to audibly groan each time he came to a team meeting and said he was still researching a perp. Yet as he listened to Mr. Jeffries talk about his past experiences with Charles DeWight, the law enforcement officer was surprised he had not already arrested the man before him for murder of DeWight. Geiger had been on this case for a few years now, so he was familiar with DeWight's cruelty; however, even he could not believe the amount of mental torture and debasement Mr. Jeffries had endured for so long. And he knew DeWight thought nothing wrong in the way he treated Mr. Jeffries. At first he thought Jeffries to be the typical wimp, but immediately changed his mind. Although not muscular, the man was not thin or appeared to be weak in either mind or body. He could have used a few hours a week in the gym, but he was not out of shape, having the typical body of a late-20's man. He also had a sharp wit and intelligence. So it was a mystery why the man had allowed such abuse to continue; however, as Mr. Jeffries talked about his earlier childhood, it made more sense. If DeWight had been controlling and abusive from the very start, even during childhood, it was so ingrained into Mr. Jeffries' consciousness to always allow him his way, it came naturally. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 04 And talk about goddamn coincidences. What were the odds of DeWight buying the club his buddy's fiancée danced at and he himself had brokered! It made the miracle of finding out DeWight was unaware of Jeffries and the stripper's relationship even more useful. Now that he thought about it, Geiger understood Mr. Jeffries' detachment last night. When sitting and having his verbal repartee with DeWight, Geiger had been surprised when the stripper—Jeffries' fiancée—had come over and sat in DeWight's lap, who had openly fondled her ass like his own property. The evening now made more sense if the couple was hiding their relationship, and he was amazed at Jeffries' self-control. Through the whole account given by Jeffries he only asked a few questions, verifying dates, asking full names of people mentioned, and so forth. Reaffirming his assessment he discovered the man had an impeccable memory, able to answer most of his questions regardless of the time frame; then again, the man must have dwelled on how his life had been brutalized by DeWight continuously. Mr. Jeffries paused after recounting meeting up with DeWight and selling the clubs, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to say next. Geiger looked at the man in question, marveling at the man's equanimity. Not only had he put up with DeWight's mental abuse for years, but he maintained his peace in light of his fiancée's profession, which he obviously did not approve of. The officer knew many men who had ended relationships with exotic dancers due to the jealousy that developed. When Jeffries began speaking again, Geiger's eyes widened in disbelief, almost falling out of his seat finding out not only had the man known of DeWight seducing Diamond, but had watched the whole thing! He again marveled at Jeffries' fortitude seeing his fiancée fucked by DeWight and not holding any blame against her. Geiger had watched the video posted on the site, recognizing it immediately as security footage, and there was no doubt—drugged or not—the woman had enjoyed the encounter. He did not know if Jeffries was the biggest pussy he had ever met, or the most patient and forgiving man deserving sainthood—until he looked at the man, seeing the anger within his eyes. After years enforcement, Geiger knew that gaze; it was the look of somebody who had reached their limit. If you saw that look from an armed suspect you took them down without a moment's hesitation. It was the look of somebody who no longer cared about collateral damage, focusing only on his objective; in this case, he guessed it was Charles DeWight's downfall. As Geiger mentally filed all that happened to Jeffries and the stripper, a plan began to develop in his mind. He realized he should call her by her name, Jennifer Simmons; however, with his current train of thought it was best to keep her as distant as possible. She was a tool to be used to further his investigation, and he could not concern himself about how she went about it. That did not mean he wanted to see her come to any harm, but there were different degrees of harm, and he needed to worry more about life and death scenarios than morals. "I would like to once again apologize for last night," he told them both sincerely. "I knew what DeWight wanted to happen, and I assumed the room was under surveillance?" he asked the stripper who nodded. "I did not want DeWight to think there was anything going on but a vice cop letting a stripper off for a freebie," he told them. "I was angling for the 'crooked cop' routine, hoping DeWight would buy it and not see me as a threat, maybe even somebody he could use," he explained. Diamond nodded her head in understanding, but he was focused on Jeffries' reaction. The man's composure never wavered, even in light of openly discussing his fiancée sucking Geiger off the night before. Once again the beginnings of a plan returned, specifically using Jeffries' animosity towards DeWight to use as impetus to further his main purpose in coming here today. What he was thinking was as manipulative as DeWight, but with the prospect of the task force being disbanded and kicked off the case due to its lack of progress over the last couple years, the ends justified the means. "So what is he wanted for?" Jeffries asked suddenly, as Geiger realized it was his turn to 'lay the cards on the table. He was now completely convinced of both Mr. Jeffries and Miss Simmons' innocence and naiveté in the situation, but they were the only breaks in the case he had since his partner went missing. Realizing at this point he had to trust in his cause, he answered. "I ask that what I am about to tell you stay strictly between us; if Charles DeWight or anybody associated with him learns the specifics of this investigation, years of work and the lives of several people—my own partner's included—will have been in vain," he told them seriously. "Charles DeWight—along with several of his associates—is under investigation for numerous transgressions including organized crime, fraud, tax evasion, drug trafficking, human trafficking, sexual assault, rape, extortion, racketeering—the list is pretty extensive," he told them, "including suspected murder." Geiger saw Diamond's eyes grow wide as he listed the crimes DeWight was currently under investigation for, once again looking at the beautiful woman's figure. While they had been talking her robe had once again fallen open, again appreciating the swell of her breasts covered by the lace camisole top. He continued speaking, trying to take his mind off the sexual fantasies in his mind as he beheld the woman. "As you understand, these charges are not something a local vice cop would be involved in. Although my real name is Patrick Geiger, my title is actually Special Agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation," he told them, pulling out his real badge and showing it to them. "Obviously that information is classified, as my cover as a vice cop needs to hold. It was a last ditch effort to try and find some lead before my superiors closed the case," he said dejectedly. Seeing both of their questioning faces, he continued. "This case has been open for over four years, and although the accusations keep piling up, the evidence has gotten us nowhere. As I mentioned to Di—uh, Miss Simmons," he quickly corrected himself, "every time we get close enough to stick some charge on DeWight, he slithers away like a greased pig. "After years of man hours, covert surveillance, money, and unfortunately lives lost, my superiors are being pressured to categorize this as a cold case, ending current investigations and only reopening it if something relevant comes to light," he told them. "I suspect DeWight has his fingers even in the Bureau," he confided. "Which is why the investigation became classified after my partner's disappearance," he explained. "Other than those of my team and high level directors, nobody in the Bureau is aware of what it going on." Seeing the inquiry in their faces he said, "Charles DeWight is not a man to be taken lightly. My partner went undercover as a dancer at another one of his clubs," he told them, looking directly at Miss Simmons. "Although she could not get corporate access, our interest focused on that particular club, rumored to be involved in DeWight's Ecstasy trafficking. All we can fathom is her cover was somehow blown and she was removed from the equation," he said tightly, trying to keep his emotions in check as he thought of Rachel, the pain in his chest still too recent. "She went missing a year ago and has not been heard from since. She is considered 'missing in action' and presumed dead, although her case, combined with this investigation, will remain open," he told them, "the task force will no longer be actively pursuing it." "You think DeWight murdered her," the woman said quietly, her eyes wide. Geiger nodded, "If not him, somebody in his employ, but not without his knowledge," he told them. "Never underestimate the man; there is not one thing that goes on in any club or concerns anything about DSA that DeWight is not aware of, which is why we have not been able to get another person into a position to work the case," he said, looking at the woman before him, "until now." "Wait, what does Jen have to do with this?" Dan asked. "You can't just have her waltz up to Chuck and get whatever evidence you need," he said exasperated. "You yourself said it's dangerous, and you haven't been able to find anything in years, so why bother?" he asked. Knowing there was only one way to get through to the man, he played his one and only trump card, looking sternly at Mr. Jeffries. "Let me tell you the reality of the situation," Special Agent Geiger said, the frustration of several years of dead ends building upon his conscious. "Your woman right there is going to become a porn actress. You want to know who is responsible for that?" he said, his voice getting louder, "Charles DeWight. She will be made to fuck and suck any swinging dick he picks for the sole purpose of making money. He will sell her body to the top dollar, and he will keep doing it until she either is worn out, gets diseased, or he grows tired of her," he told the man sitting across from him. "He has done it to every girl he has ever had a fancy towards, and he will do it long after she is used up," he said adamantly. As Jeffries opened his mouth to say something Agent Geiger held up his hand, interrupting him, "No, let me finish. You think you had it hard watching her strip in front of a group of strangers? Imagine her being forced to fuck them. Charles DeWight does not care about her, about you, nor has any morality you and I hold. He will do it to her, he will do it to other women, and he will keep doing it," he told the man forcibly. "There is nothing, and I repeat NOTHING that we can do about that, whether you agree to help or not. What you can do is help put DeWight away in a cage somewhere for the rest of his life, allowing her to be free of her contract and free of the bleak future ahead of her," he said. "We can find a way out of the contract," Jeffries replied as Geiger shook his head. "Trust me, many have tried, and they have ended up worse than when they started; destitute, some missing, others forced to make money doing worse things than they had been made to do to begin with," he told him. "Charles DeWight does not merely win against opposition, he crushes it," he said. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself a bit before continuing. "I have promised to have our legal department look over the contract, but do not hold your breath," he told him, offering some hope to the bleakness he described. "In the meanwhile, if nothing is done DeWight will win. It may take threats, it may take blackmail, or he may end up drugging your woman enough times it won't matter, but your fiancée is a DSA spokesmodel, which in Charles DeWight's world means his own personal slut to do as he pleases," he told him emphatically. "Is what I'm asking it dangerous?" he said to both of them. "Hell yes, but regardless of any danger, the outcome and what will come to pass for her because of DeWight will be the same. I am offering the only possible way out," he told the man. Geiger felt awful seeing the faces of the couple before him. He had completely crushed any hope they had held, but he had only stated the truth which they had already considered. It was why he needed to distance himself and not think of the woman as anything else but an informant. There was nothing he could do to help her beyond shortening her suffering. The inevitability was truth; bad things happened to good people, and as long as he had been in the Bureau—and before that on the police force—you could not make it go away. In the end, you considered your job successful if you could merely ease or shorten the torment of others. "What makes you think I will be of any use?" the woman asked, drawing Geiger and Jeffries' attention. "What can I do that your partner, a trained FBI agent, could not do?" she asked. "For one thing, you'll have access to DSA corporate buildings. What we learned while Rachel was undercover was DSA spokesmodels have carte blanche to most buildings and areas across the country. Every DSA employee is given a key card which grants them access to buildings and rooms pertinent for their job. Apparently DSA spokesgirls are given access to every facility in the case of any spur-of-the-moment engagements," he told them, not going into any detail on what those engagements entailed. "You may find something we never could in a single club," he told her. "I am not asking you do to anything to jeopardize your welfare, just asking you to keep an eye out for something, anything," he pleaded to her, "and let us know about it." "What about Dan?" she asked. "The fact DeWight doesn't know you two are a couple is a bonus in light of the animosity between him and DeWight, as he cannot use it against you. We can relocate Mr. Jeffries to a safe house until we can find a way to help you out of the contract," he told them. He did not tell them if there was no eventual progress they would both be left at DeWight's mercy. "No," the woman asked leaning forward, drawing his attention back to her revealing attire, "I mean Dan can help," she said. Her fiancé looked at her in surprise, "Tell me you're not going to suggest what I think you are?" he asked. The stripper shrugged, causing her breasts to quiver up and down pulling the agent's attention to her chest. "Mr. DeWight offered you a job, what if you take it?" she asked. Immediately Geiger's attention was drawn away from the succulent flesh as he looked at her in surprise. "He did what?" he asked, completely taken off guard. "Dan was offered a job by Mr. DeWight. At the time we both laughed it off—like Dan would ever do anything for him, but now..." her voice trailed off, looking at her fiancé. "What kind of job?" the agent asked, clearly intrigued. "Chuck asked me to be the DSA broker-slash-realtor," he told him. "Apparently his old one was caught stealing from the company or something and was fired," he said. "Oh, I'm sure he was fired," the agent replied, "the question is by what caliber." "You don't mean he was killed!" the woman exclaimed as he nodded. "We have been wondering for several months what had become of Emery Phelps, the previous broker. We figured he had been removed from his position, just not the circumstances around his disappearance. It figures the greedy slime-ball was skimming from DSA and got caught, guess the branch chief wins that bet," he told them abstractedly. "What exactly did DeWight tell you," the agent asked, his mind working overtime at all the sudden information falling into his lap at this visit. Jeffries thought a moment before answering. "Well, he said he needed somebody to help buy properties, and he respected my judgment based on how I handled brokering the two clubs. The bastard said he could trust me, having known me for years," he laughed in sarcasm. "The arrogant ass actually thought I would agree," he said. Diamond reached out and held her fiancé's hand and looked at the agent. "What if Dan accepted. He would also have access to records and such, right?" she queried. Geiger slowly nodded, absently stroking his two-day-old beard. "Yes. Actually Emery Phelps shadowed DeWight most of the time when at corporate headquarters. It was only when he was traveling to scout out possible new clubs they were separated. In fact, if Mr. Jeffries were willing, we would be able to infiltrate any new clubs before they were even bought!" he exclaimed, the prospect obviously exciting him as he explained to the two civilians. "In the past we have never been able to place taps in the clubs," he told them. "DeWight is very careful, only hiring his own contractors for repairs and renovations whom he has used for years. One of the first things done when he buys a new property is removes any previous wiring or surveillance and installing his own. If we knew of purchases beforehand..." his voice trailed off as he thought of the possibilities. "If we were to agree," the woman asked, "would the investigation still be closed?" The agent shook his head. "Not closed, categorized as a cold case. But to answer you, no, a case is labeled cold only if there are no new leads or an ongoing operation, and then only after a long period of time. The last lead we had was over a year ago when Rachel—my partner—disappeared. We could not follow up on it as it would jeopardize our investigation getting involved. We had to let the local police handle it. As expected, the investigation went nowhere," he said dejectedly. "Nobody spends much time on a missing stripper with a past history of substance abuse—even if that history was only a cover, we could not let them know our interest," he told them. "Since then every lead has been a dead end," he continued. "If we had two people involved with the company working with us, that would buy us some time," he told them, becoming excited at the possibility. Finally as if reaching a decision, he asked them, "So I asked you this once before, but now I repeat it to both of you, how far are you willing to go to put Charles DeWight behind bars for the rest of his life?" The couple looked at each other for a moment before Mr. Jeffries asked, "Do you mind if we have a moment?" The FBI agent nodded his head. "This is not a decision to be taken lightly," Geiger told them, "so take your time. I need to check in anyways," he told them, waving to his laptop. "You can stay here," the dancer told him, "we'll be in the living room," she said as they exited. Before the doors to the study closed, he heard Mr. Jeffries' voice as it faded away, "Are you out of your fucking mind?" ******************** Jen did not reply to Dan's outburst until the study doors were closed and they had entered the living room. For once she was the composed one, Dan the one frazzled. Just like this morning when she had woken up, she was resigned to her fate, a calm detachment overcoming her. The cop—or agent she corrected herself—was right, there was little chance of finding an out from the contract. She had little hope of the FBI's legal department finding any loophole to her advantage, not after hearing of all the other court cases where women had tried to get out of theirs. And he only confirmed what she already suspected, somehow, someway, Mr. DeWight would crush her resistance, force her to comply with her contract and give her body to anybody he wanted. He had already proven it was possible, seducing and fucking her the first night he owned the club. As if hammering his will into her she had again complied with his demands, ending up dancing and being felt up by his contractors on her day off practicing. She had again followed his command sucking off Tim, and on the same day did the same to the man in the other room. It was only a matter of time, and if the videos were any evidence, maybe she had already succumbed. She would still fight it, but in the end, she was resigned Mr. DeWight would overcome her rejection and coerce her into doing exactly what the agent had said, be a DSA slut for hire. Jen had been thinking about it all day, and the agent only verified her assumptions. Her only way out was helping find something to put him away, thereby making her contract null and void. Silencing any further comment from Dan, she calmly explained her reasoning. Whether she helped the agent with his investigation or not, what would happen to her remained the same; as much as they wished to deny it, she had signed a contract firmly entrenching herself into the adult entertainment industry. Resigned to the outcome, she realized she was also resigned to something she had convinced herself was inevitable as well. Although she had a brief moment of happiness this morning, the truth was she was losing Dan. No man could put up with what she was now sullenly accepting. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05 Author's Note: It is recommended to read the previous chapters of this story if you have not done so already to better understand the storyline and characters... This chapter sort of got 'out of hand' in that I never intended it to be so long; however, I did not want to break it up as it fits my own personal timeline/agenda to have the entire week be one chapter. For those not liking the length, I have separated each day with ***** so you can stop and come back at your own reading leisure * The alarm blaring next to the bed—a loud 'beep-buzzing' which filled the room—woke Jen up with a start. She pulled her pillow over her head, mentally berating Dan for having set it so loud. He usually set the volume much quieter so as not to wake her, the mere clicking of the alarm before going off enough to wake him. Even when she had not worked the night before he let her sleep in, so her body was used to late mornings. Then her new reality crashed down upon her consciousness as she realized Dan was not here—she was alone, and the alarm volume was set by her last night when she went to bed. She looked at the time as she turned off the annoying beep-buzzing, the green lettering reading 7:16 A.M. Her mind rebelled against getting up so early, but she knew she had to get some breakfast and coffee into her before her limo came to take her to the airport. Her mind still foggy from sleep, the thought suddenly brought her more awake—her limo. She was a Divine Silk Attractions Spokesmodel; in other words, a stripper and a porn actress for hire. The first thought did not bother her, as she had been stripping for years and she honestly enjoyed it; it was the second part of her new role she was being forced into which cleared the sleep from her body. Although she grudgingly accepted the fact she had not willingly made any porn movies, Mr. DeWight—her boss and her fiancé's childhood rival—had secretly recorded her dancing naked, being felt up by construction workers, and even her sucking off one of her co-workers—which he had also manipulated her into doing. The recordings were proof enough of her new reality, the evidence posted on the DSA website for all who paid to see. It did not matter if she had been aware of being recorded or not, the availability of the videos and her reactions within them was proof enough of her new world—that of an up-and-coming porn star. Her slippery decent had begun when she had been drugged, seduced, conned, and ultimately coerced into signing a contract with Divine Silk Attractions—the company which had bought the club she danced in. It was a legal document, ultimately giving Mr. DeWight and the company he owned full rights to her body and how it would be used and marketed. Then the happenings of the past weekend rushed into her memory. It was like a dream, a slideshow of events, as she recalled being visited by a cop she found out to be an FBI Agent, Patrick Geiger. He had convinced both her and Dan to become informants, infiltrating DSA and reporting to the FBI on anything they could find on Mr. DeWight. Being civilians and having no FBI training, it had been questionable if she could 'act' the part of a newly-discovered porn actress; however, Jen really had no choice—it would happen whether she helped the FBI or not per her contract. As her and Dan had learned, it was not unusual for Mr. DeWight to bribe or even force women into performing sexual acts, so Jen's future was inevitable. Even so, Agent Geiger's superiors had questioned Jen's acceptance into the role and her ability to 'blend in' and work for the FBI without being compromised. Jen knew the contract she had signed was legally binding, and the threat of repercussions for breaking the contract would cost more than ten years' of salary between her and Dan. Knowing what they did of Mr. DeWight, he could bankrupt them forever if she broke from the contract. Her stupidity in allowing herself to sign the contract had shattered all her resolve, placing her in a severely depressed state where she decided to allow whatever happened to her to happen, giving in to her fate as a porn star. The offer by the FBI seemed to be the only way out—a light at the end of the tunnel if the FBI could put Mr. DeWight away forever in prison. It was pure irony the one thing she was being forced to do would end up being the only way she could get out of it. As such, committed to her Fate, she had agreed to have sex with Agent Geiger in front of Dan, her beloved fiancé, proving she would accept her role and not betray the confidence instilled upon her. If she 'blended in' as an agreeable porn actress, it gave her the freedom to spy out DSA and possibly find incriminating evidence against her boss and the company. The biggest snag to the plan was Mr. DeWight knowing Dan. They had grown up together, their families even going on vacations together. But even though their families may have been close, the two boys had never gotten along from Dan's perspective. Mr. DeWight had made Dan's life miserable. After Dan had graduated from college and moved away, thinking he was truly free of Mr. DeWight's torment, it was a sick twist of fate to once again be faced with his childhood rival once—as his fiancée's boss! Mr. DeWight had been thrilled at meeting up with Dan again—even offering him a job. He did not know Jen and Dan knew each other, let alone the fact they were engaged, and they decided to keep it from him in the hopes Mr. DeWight would not use her to get at Dan. If both of them were to pull this off, Dan had to act completely complacent if confronted with Jen acting out her role as a porn actress and possibly having sex in front of him. The FBI knew this, and they knew of Dan's past relationship with Mr. DeWight, so they were skeptical of them being viable informants. As such, being fucked by Agent Geiger in front of Dan had been as much a test of his resolve as hers. Jen was mortified to discover her body had enjoyed its use. The only way to mentally cope with what had happened was for her to accept she enjoyed sex, but was in love with Dan. With him she made love, while her role as a porn actress would be nothing but fucking, a physical act. It was nothing as beautiful and caring as what occurred between her and Dan. Finally awake, she got out of bed, although her mind continued to flash back to the day before where she and Dan had visited an abandoned warehouse the FBI set up as their temporary headquarters in the city, used towards putting Mr. DeWight in prison once and for all. The city and site had been chosen because DeWight had recently purchased two clubs in town—the first clubs he had bought in years—so they expected him to be around town more in order to get the clubs in order. As her mind wandered, Jen sat down at her vanity and brushed her hair, mentally listing all the things Mr. DeWight was wanted for by the FBI—racketeering, embezzlement, organized crime, tax evasion, rape, sexual and physical abuse, slavery, and even murder. They had visited the FBI safe house for her and Dan to meet the rest of the team assigned to the case, as well as brief them on the types of evidence the FBI was looking for. They also were provided with surveillance gear to facilitate acquiring any evidence of Mr. DeWight's crimes. Jen's equipment had been disguised as jewelry, containing highly technical recording and camera equipment. To Jen, it all seemed very 'James Bondish.' Brushing her hair, she mentally shook her head in disbelief recalling how she had agreed to have a space-aged tattoo placed on her which could vibrate under her skin like a cell phone. It could be used to warn her of danger or provide a silent means of communication between her and the FBI agents without anybody knowing. Jen had always wanted a tattoo, but spending money on one was frivolous when her and Dan were trying to save up for their wedding and her schooling, so when one of the FBI agents—Nick—had asked what design she wanted, she had already known. Thinking of the tattoo she lifted her arm, twisting her torso in front of her mirror to see the black Chinese lettering down the back of her ribs spelling her stripper name, 'Diamond.' There was only slight reddening around the letters, and she tenderly touched it, surprised it was not painful. It had been serendipity to be asked to get the tattoo, although she had never dreamed technology could cause one to vibrate from a remote trigger. Then her mind flashed back to what else happened at the FBI safe house. It was as if her mind was purposely keeping events in her subconscious, slowly easing her into what had happened. "Oh God," she whispered, recalling the young FBI agent who had given her the tattoo, and how he had fondled her on the table, ultimately getting bold enough to fingered her, bringing her to orgasm in the room while Dan had stood right beside her completely unaware! The flood of images continued as she recalled the events afterwards, of her sensual stripping routine in front of the agents and then letting the branch chief of the team fuck her. Dancing for the agents had been her idea, and it seemed logical at the time. Nick—the computer geek and agent who had given her the tattoo and fingered her to orgasm—needed to test and calibrate the surveillance equipment jewelry she was wearing in a mock strip club environment. As she would be moving all over the stage and pole, it made sense the sound and video needed to be adjusted not only from her movements, but also the surrounding noise of a club. As the slideshow of events filled her head, it was not the stripping—which she had done for years—bothering her. No, what her memory had released in a sudden flash of images was what had happened afterwards—of her sucking off the branch chief of the group, Agent Vogel, and then allowing him to fuck her in his office. What the hell had she done? She was engaged for Christ's sake, and had acted like a slut letting a stranger fuck her. At the time she had been thinking of being forced into her current porn actress role, so had let things happen in order to prove to the chief she would not betray her 'cover' and accept her new role. She knew she needed to accept her Fate, so conceding to being fucked by the FBI agent was more like a controlled situation—one where she knew she was physically safe—in order to prepare her for what may eventually happen as Mr. DeWight ordered her around. Add to those reasons was the circumstances of her body already primed by the finger fucking she had received getting the tattoo, so having sex in a strange twisted cause of events had not been an issue. But that was last night and she now was having day-after remorse. What had she been thinking, she once again thought, letting the fat, overweight man have his way with her? She was not shocked because a law enforcement officer had taken advantage of her—again, she had been stripping for years and knew what kind of pigs men were, whether they were normal customers or wore a badge. No, what frightened her was not somebody in as elevated a position as an FBI agent would be depraved enough to fuck an informant, but at her own body's response. As with her sex with Agent Geiger the prior evening, Jen gruesomely admitted she had enjoyed Vogel's use of her body. She had actually orgasmed repeatedly as he fucked her, her own body betraying her while the obese, sweaty man used her. What the Hell had she been thinking? And what would Dan say? Thinking of her fiancé, Jen looked around the room, taking note of the blatant absence of Dan and his things. The agents had removed everything of his out of the house in case Mr. DeWight came over, to hide her and Dan's relationship. As her address was known to everybody at the strip club and DSA, it was Dan who had to be relocated, remembering Agent Geiger telling her last night they had set up a place for him to live, with records proving he had stayed there for years—all in case Mr. DeWight investigated his background. In the back of her mind she wondered if this separation would end up being permanent, Dan leaving her due to her predicament and not wanting anything to do with a woman who had signed a contract to fuck strangers for money. He was sympathetic now, but how could any man faced with the fact of his woman fucking other people for money want to be with her? A loud buzzing caught her attention and she dug into the bundle of clothes she had worn last night and thrown in the corner, finding the strange cell phone Agent Geiger and Nick had given to her. Answering, she almost burst into tears hearing Dan's voice. "Heya Baby, I wanted to call and make sure you were up, and to tell you I love you. I'll bet anything you are sitting there thinking all sorts of morbid thoughts about what you're getting yourself into and me leaving you, so quit that shit right now," his voice said over the phone. Jen burst into tears as she laughed at the same time, telling him that was exactly what she had been thinking. She stared at her naked self in the mirror, her mind in turmoil at how her life had reached rock bottom, but Dan's voice was reassuring, a lifeline pulling her out of a depression she had been falling hopelessly into. "See, this is what it means to be a couple, to be supportive, even at the worst of times. I know you may have to do some things that would cause most relationships to crumble, but I love you, and nothing will change that. If we can put that asshole away once and for all, we can put this behind us and get on with our lives. Just keep your mind on that, and know I will always love you," his voice said to her, easing her heart and dark thoughts. They talked a bit more, mostly Dan reassuring her, until they reluctantly hung up. Dan had to go to work—a job he would be quitting to infiltrate Mr. DeWight's organization—and Jen needed to get ready for her trip. As she set the phone down, the morning sun shining through the bedroom window caught her belly piercing, the bright sparkle drawing her attention to her flat stomach. She looked at her naked body in the mirror, her 36D breasts jutting from her chest as if floating in space. Their firmness caused many to think she had implants, being perky even without wearing a bra; however, she was proud to correct them and let them know they were 100% natural. She attributed their resilience and toning of her body to dancing, which she did even on nights off, her own daily work-out keeping her entire body firm. Her eyes moved down her slim waist, admiring her smooth skin, her gaze drawn down the slanted lines of her hips to her smooth crotch, having shaved last night in the shower. Suddenly her eyes were drawn back to the navel ring, remembering what it really was—a high tech camera. Her heart skipped a beat realizing Nick or who knew what other agent, was seeing exactly what she was seeing in the mirror—her naked body, her hands moving over her ribs! Although being a stripper had conditioned her to men seeing her naked, she was in her own home, having her own private thoughts, so the sudden awareness of being viewed felt like an invasion to her privacy. Turning around, she quickly went and put on a robe—the same one she had worn in front of Agent Geiger she realized—the material covering her 'belly cam' as it had been nicknamed. Jen knew it was probably a disappointment for whoever was watching, but... Suddenly she jerked, the sensation of three sharp vibrations coming from her tattoo like a weak electrical current. Laughing at some agents' frustration, she spoke to the empty room, "Live with it boys," knowing they could hear. She knew they could still see everything, having placed hidden cameras and recording bugs throughout the house, but it was a small victory for her to at least cover herself up from their prying eyes. Again, it was all in case Mr. DeWight or somebody visited, in the hopes of them saying or doing something incriminating. Shuddering again at the thought of some of the heinous acts her boss was wanted for, she tied the sash more tightly over her waist. Looking back in the mirror, Jen once again admired her body, outlined by the short white robe. The silken material barely extended past her ass and crotch, the thin cloth wrapped tightly across her erect nipples, hard and rigid from the morning air, as she looked at her smooth toned and tanned legs. Seeing the time, she turned and grabbed her overnight bag before remembering the voicemail message Mr. DeWight had made last night going over her flight arrangements, as well as telling her the driver would be bringing her something to wear for the trip. As such, she did not need to pack. Mr. DeWight had told her anything and everything she would need would be provided on her trip. That being said, she was a woman and still needed make-up and such, so quickly put together a small carry-on bag containing her toothbrush and other essentials, as well as the additional surveillance equipment given to her last night. Once finished, she went downstairs to make coffee and get something to eat. Jen did not know what type of outfit Mr. DeWight would be sending, so she did not put on any underwear, instead waiting to see what the clothes would be before choosing what she would wear under it. Besides, after stripping for so many years, she was comfortable being naked—especially around the house. All she knew for certain was whatever Mr. DeWight sent would undoubtedly be revealing—her boss would not shy away from flaunting her body in public as some sort of sick advertisement, as well as his passive aggressiveness to prove his dominance over her. Although comfortable with her body and not too worried about her wardrobe being pre-ordained, even if it were by some pervert, she would still be in public, not in the setting of the club. As such, she had some reservation on what to expect, but reasoned whatever Mr. DeWight sent still had to be legal for her to walk around in public at the airports. Another part of felt a thrill to show off her body, as she enjoyed the attention. It was one of the reasons she stripped, so the fact she would be having to dress sexy was no different than if she were out working. Sipping her coffee, her mind once again filled with thoughts of the past week, pouring through everything that happened, particularly the contract. Going over everything she had read in her mind, she once again came to the conclusion complying with the contract and working with the FBI would be the best way to get out of it. Her mind lost in thought, she still noticed the quiet of the house, once again missing Dan even though he had only been gone for a day. Although he was an early bird riser, he often worked from home until she woke up so they could spend the morning in each other's company before leaving for work together, so being alone in the house was rare. In fact, she had not been this alone since Dan had gone to college. Thinking back to that time in her life, she placed much of the blame on everything happening to her now and her own issues when she had been alone. It h ad been a bad time for her mentally, testing out drugs, depressed, having severe mood swings, even sleeping around on one night stands. As usual when she thought about that time, she thought about the time she had gone out with one of the short order cooks she worked with—Todd—who had set her up for a threesome with one of his friends without her knowledge. Everything had spiraled out of control after that, until she had finally sought counseling and discovered from her therapist how most of her control issues—including her hyper-sexuality—were related to border-line bipolar disorder. She had taken medication to stabilize herself, but eventually had been weaned off them, ever since getting back with Dan. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05 Her becoming a cocktail waitress at the strip club and then finally an exotic dancer were somewhat related to her mental state; it had been a way of allowing her inner exhibitionist some freedom without spiraling out of control. Once Dan had returned back into her life she had been completely stable. Now, as if things were once again progressing in an uncontrollable direction, she wondered if she were backsliding, her depression at signing the contract to become a porn actress triggering her mental decline. Lost in her thoughts, Jen was startled when the doorbell rang, breaking her morose thoughts. Looking at the clock she saw it was 7:45 A.M., the driver apparently arriving early. It was just as well, she thought, as she needed to get ready before being taken to the airport. Jen felt odd knowing she was going to be driven around in a limousine, not having ridden in one since her and Dan had gone to prom in high school. Getting up from the table, she readjusted her robe and went to answer the door. Opening the door, the first thing Jen noticed was the large white stretch limousine sitting in her driveway. Then she turned her head to the person on the porch, her eyes opening wide in surprise. "What the fuck are you doing here," she spat. Standing to the side of the door holding a garment bag was none other than Tim Baker, previously one of the bartenders at the Satin Kitty, and now manager at the Wet Cherry. The club had formerly been known as the Slithering Lizard and was the other strip club Mr. DeWight had purchased. In Jen's mind the latter name summed up her feelings for Tim, as he was the co-worker Mr. DeWight had forced her to have oral sex with. "Why Diamond, is that any way to treat a co-worker and supporter of your talents," the man laughed as he walked past her into her house. Jen stood in the doorway staring at the man in surprise. Her mind flashed back to the last time she had been near him, crouched down before him, naked and sucking him off at Mr. DeWight's direction. Unwanted, the recollection of his long cock sliding into the back of her throat came to her mind and she inadvertently glanced down to his crotch, the prominent bulge in his pants causing her to wonder if it was curled up in his pants like a snake ready to strike. To her shame, she felt her mouth watering, remembering the depraved way she had sucked him, her pulse speeding up. Attempting to hide her thoughts, she once again asked, "What are you doing here?" She was suddenly startled when a car drove by and beeped its horn, the driver obviously appreciating her figure in the short satin robe outlined in the doorway, reminding her to close the door. "Well, Mr. DeWight asked me to go to L.A. for a managers summit, and being the tight-assed person he is decided it would be easier to kill two birds with one stone and not have to pay for a driver for you, since I had to go to the airport as well. Hell, I'm surprised he splurged for the limo honestly," the man said as he looked at Jen intently. She could not help but feel violated as Tim's eyes moved over her figure, his gaze first focusing on her breasts and nipples—outlined through the thin silk fabric—before moving lower. She reddened as he smiled at her attire, the material barely covering her hips and crotch and leaving no doubt she was naked beneath. Jen's disgust at his open leer was at odds with the unexpected feeling of arousal as her pulse quickened and her breasts tightened. She hated this man! He had done nothing but degrade her, conspiring with Mr. DeWight and forcing her to suck him off—and her body was heating up? What the hell was wrong with her, she once again thought as she purposely walked past the egotistical man, muttering "Goddamnit!" under her breath. Tim chuckled behind her as she went to get her coffee in the kitchen, the sound of his footsteps behind her. "Coffee smells good, mind if I have a cup?" the man asked behind her. Shrugging, Jen went to get a cup out of the cupboard. As she reached for one of their all-purpose cups she felt Tim's presence behind her like an oppressive cloud of smog as she attempted to ignore the man's presence. Her problem with Tim was his smugness and egotistical attitude, thinking he was God's gift to women, whom he treated like dirt. Her mind flashed back to him blatantly ogling at her when practicing at the club—unusual as the male workers purposely ignored the girls so they would feel more comfortable. She also recalled him barging into the dressing room when all the other men knocked. She was not the only one, as his presence made all the girls uncomfortable, his blatantly looks at them making them feel like he was deciding what to eat at a buffet. Trying to ignore him she grabbed a cup, almost startled when his voice came from behind her, "Do you mind if I used one of those 'To Go' cups on top? We're leaving soon, so it would fit in the cup holders," he said. Jen put the cup back and reached up to the top shelf to get one of the steel-lined cups in question when she heard Tim move behind her. "Mmm, you have the most perfect ass," the man said as his cold hands grasped her ass cheeks. Jen jerked away in surprise, realizing her reaching up to the cups had caused her robe to ride up and reveal her bare ass cheeks in front of him! Even though the man had seen her naked at the club hundreds of times, here in her own home, in her own kitchen, it felt like an invasion of privacy. The fact Tim seemed to be enjoying her uneasiness made her even more uncomfortable, practically throwing the steel cup she had grabbed at the man and telling him, "Pour it yourself," pointing to the coffee pot. Tim laughed, filling the cup as he turned around. "Can I have some of your cream?" he asked with a big smile, his eyes glued to her chest. Jen became pissed. Not only was she pissed at Tim and his blatant teasing of her, but also pissed at her body as her nipples uncontrollably hardened in response to the man's attention to her. She could not believe how much the brief touch of his hands on her bare ass sped up her pulse. Why the fuck was she getting turned on by this pervert's attention, she wondered, crossing her arms to Tim's exaggerated disappointment. She watched as he got the milk out of the fridge, pouring a liberal amount into the cup before putting it back and taking a sip of his coffee. Turning her attention to the garment bag he had draped over a chair she pointed to it, "I assume that is the outfit Mr. DeWight wants me to wear?" she said obviously as Tim nodded. Ignoring her obvious attempt at changing the subject, he replied, "Yup, he told me you are to wear only what is in the bag—it has shoes and everything. Any clothes for the week will be provided to you by DSA. Hell, they are probably already in your hotel suite. So you can pack light, only needing your toothbrush and other shit," he told her, his eyes still roving across her body. "Seems excessive, don't you think?" she asked, trying to force herself to be comfortable in the man's presence. "I mean buying a complete wardrobe for me?" She found it next to impossible to act nonchalant around a man she had ultimately degraded herself in front of, actually taking his cock into her mouth and sucking him off while their boss watched and cheered them on. "Not really," Tim replied as his gaze once again glued to her breasts. "It's good business. For the clothing companies its cheap advertising—having a DSA Spokesmodel seen wearing their fashions, so they donate the clothes for free" he explained to her. "And it's not only clothing advertisement, but advertisement of you," he grinned. "You will get a completely new wardrobe to wear wherever you go, at no cost to DSA," he said to her matter-of-factly. "Mr. DeWight knows how to manipulate the system to his advantage," he said with pride. Jen realized it made sense as she unzipped the garment bag to see what was inside. At first she could not figure out what the small bundle of white cloth was or how the outfit would even look. To her it was amorphous white swatches; however, as she laid it out on the table she realized it was a small skirt with an attached loose bodice. The top consisted of an inverted triangular piece of cloth tied around the neck and back, the front having a cowl neckline and extending down to the waistline where a small rhinestone studded circle attached to the skirt. The top would cover her front, although the deep cowl of the neckline would show off considerably cleavage, but the rest of the outfit was backless. The bottom of the dress was comprised of a small stretch mini-skirt, and Jen wondered how much of her ass would be exposed until she thankfully noted the sides had ties to raise and lower the hemline. Although it could only be loosened slightly, every inch counted she thought, not wanting to keep worrying about adjusting the skirt to stop her ass from hanging out. Also within the garment bag was a pair of high-heeled sandals, which she grudgingly admired. The shoes were white leather—matching the dress—with a caged sandal front, held to the sides by silver studs. The heel was a thin 5-and-a-half-inched spike, which would be risky if she were dancing, but for walking would be fine. She read the 'JustFabulous' brand on the sole and nodded her approval at the shoes. They would accentuate her legs and lift her ass wonderfully, she thought. Grabbing the shoes and outfit—those being the only things in the garment bag—she told Tim she would change and to make himself comfortable. Going upstairs, Jen put the dress on the bed with the shoes and sat down at her vanity. Now that she knew what color outfit she would be wearing, she could finish her make-up. Being on a plane and it too late to do her hair, she decided to pull it back into a tight ponytail high on her head, her long auburn hair falling behind her. Then she shrugged off her robe, not wanting to get any make-up on it. Being at the club for so long she was used to getting ready in the nude, brushing a light foundation on her cheeks, followed by a light blush. Next she put on a dark long-lasting mascara, giving her eyes almost an Asian appearance as she etched dark highlights at an angle to the sides of her eyes, following it with some light turquoise eyeliner for her lids. She was brushing the eyeliner on her closed lids when Tim's voice came from behind her, startling her. "I always find it amazing how a beautiful woman can make herself almost exotic with merely a small amount of make-up," he said. Her eyes opened in surprise as she spun around, seeing the man standing nonchalantly in the doorway of her bedroom with his cup of coffee. "What the fuck?" she exclaimed, "Get the hell out of here, I'm dressing," she yelled at the man. Tim merely smiled. "I've watched you get dressed before," he reminded her. "Or did you forget me already?" he asked with a grin. Before she could continue he said, "Granted I've been at the Wet Cherry for a few days, but I would have thought you'd have remembered me," he said snidely. "Or have you sucked so many cocks mine lodging into your throat was just something you do too often to be memorable?" he chuckled. Jen felt her face turn red, from both anger and embarrassment as she once again told him, "Get the hell out of here," although less loudly than before. Tim merely shook his head. "Although I would stand here normally on my own, I've had strict orders from Mr. DeWight to keep an eye on you and make sure you put on exactly what he sent you," Tim said, his eyes looking at her naked reflection in the mirror. Jen's gaze followed his in the mirror, seeing her breasts almost proudly displayed before him with their hardened nipples, her robe bunched around her waist. She was about to stand up and put the robe back on when she realized it would only prove to Tim he was making her nervous, so decided instead to ignore him. "Whatever," she retorted. "You want to learn some tricks on putting on your make-up, fine with me," she said, brushing off the excess eye liner from her eyes. Picking up a tube of lipstick—M.A.C. Viva Glam Nicki—she smeared the thick, bright pink cream over her lips, trying to ignore Tim the entire time. Unfortunately Tim cared less about what she wanted, moving into the bedroom like he owned the place and sitting down on the bed as he made snide comments. "Oh yeah, I love the way your mouth opens like that, brings back fond memories of the other day," he told her. "And I love the tat," he said as she realized nobody had seen it yet. "Damn, good thing you didn't have that the other day or I wouldn't have been able to last as long as I had—it adds a degree of sluttiness to you I wouldn't have thought possible," he chuckled. Jen continued her attempts to ignore the man as she got up, absently letting the robe fall to the ground. Hearing Tim's chuckle when she realized she was now naked in front of him reaffirmed her suspicion he not only enjoyed the view, but seemed to thrive on making her nervous. She again concluded to simply ignore him like she had in the dressing room at work as she went to her dresser, not responding to his crude comments. Looking back at the dress she decided on wearing a plain white thong with it, grabbing it out of the drawer. Immediately Tim's voice brought her eyes to him, "Sorry, you can't wear that," he told her grinning evilly, "Mr. DeWight explicitly stated you were to wear only what he sent," he told her. "He meant outfit," she replied back angrily, "not underwear," she stated, the thin triangle of material hanging from her fingers. Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "We can call him if you wish to pursue the matter," he told her. Jen gave up at that point. Even if Mr. DeWight had not meant for her to go without underwear, the minute the idea was brought up over the phone she knew what his answer would be. This was one of those times you had to pick your battles, inwardly hoping the material was not too sheer. "Fine," she said to him, throwing the thong back into the dresser as Tim chuckled over his victory. Grabbing the dress, trying unsuccessfully to ignore Tim who was making small noises on the bed—his comments of "Mmm, yeah," and "Fuck you are stacked!" coming to her ears—she looked at the dress to figure out how to put it on. Movement caught her eye and without thinking Jen turned, seeing Tim blatantly rubbing his crotch as she stepped into the skirt. For some morbid reason she could not take her eyes off him as she bent down, pulling the soft stretchy material up her legs, continuing to stare at his hand slowly sliding over his crotch. His voice brought her back to her surroundings as she heard him say, "You can stay bent over like that some more, you have fantastic tits," he said derogatorily. "Oh, and the view of your ass and snatch from the mirror is worth it too," he said. Jen immediately turned her head and stood up, realizing she had been bent over by the mirror, giving Tim an unobstructed view from behind as she bent over. Her body blushing in shame, she quickly pulled the skirt the rest of the way up, quickly grabbing the top portion as she attempted to tie it around her neck to cover herself. Although she was able to tie the neck strap around her, the middle portion going around her back was impossible. At any other time, Jen would have simply taken off the dress, tied the back, and slithered into it, but with Tim in the room, she was not going to give him any more views of her body she could help. Finally mustering up enough courage, she turned her back to him, asking if he could tie her up. Tim grin, saying, "I'll tie you up any time you want," as he stepped up behind her. Jen was acutely aware of his presence behind her, stifling in a gasp as his hands slid up her bare hip and waist before taking the two strands of cloth and tying them tightly around her. Jen turned to the mirror, distracted by actually being impressed with the dress—until she noted it should have come with a liner in the front as the outlines of her aureoles were visible if you looked closely, which she ashamedly realized would happen from any guy looking at her. Adding to the view she realized Tim had tied the back snuggly around her, pulling the material tightly across her breasts, the silhouettes of her nipples plainly visible. She knew they would draw anybody's eyes to focus on her breasts. Seeing Tim's appreciative stare at her reflection in the mirror as he stood behind her, she knew it would be pointless to ask him to loosen the straps, hoping as she moved it would eventually loosen up on its own and not hug her breasts as tightly as it did right now. The skirt was also problematic, as although it had adjustable sides to provide some length, it still had to be pulled low past her hips to cover her front and ass completely. As such, the dress rode lower than she would have liked—an ultra-low-rise style she realized—leaving her hips bare and showing off the natural 'V' shape of the angle of her pelvis towards her crotch. In addition, with the skirt pulled so low, it stretched the bodice even tighter across her chest, the two being attached in the front by the rhinestone circlet. "Admirable," Tim said behind her, still looking at her reflection in the mirror. "I must say white is definitely your color," he grinned as his eyes focused on her breasts once again. Jen knew there was little she could do about her attire. The dress was actually comfortable, and even something she may have considered wearing out with Dan; although she would have worn a shawl over her shoulders to cover her breasts, or even Band-Aids or pasties. She knew asking to wear something like a shawl over her shoulders would be denied; Tim and probably Mr. DeWight wanting her breasts visible to everybody as advertisement, she thought dryly. Sitting down and putting on the shoes, she stood back up and looked at herself in the mirror. As expected the tall heels caused her calves and thighs to tighten, her ass lifted by the angle of her feet. Surprisingly the shoes were comfortable, even being new, and she walked around to get used to the feel of them, liking the height they gave her as well as their feel. Grabbing her night bag, Tim stopped her, telling her she was supposed to only wear what Mr. DeWight sent her. "I am not going to let somebody else pick my deodorant, toothpaste, or tell me what tampon to use," she said, opening the small carry-on in front of him and showing the contents and her toiletries. Tim shrugged, slightly embarrassed she noted, and waved for her to leave the room first as he followed behind her, knowing he was undoubtedly enjoying the view of her bare back and legs, as well as her ass within the tight skirt. ******************** The trip to the airport was uneventful other than Jen complaining about how cold the limo was. At first she believed Tim's explanations on how he was unfamiliar with the climate controls in the limousine, and trying to fix the temperature, until she caught him staring at her through the rearview mirror. Looking down, she saw the cold had caused her nipples to become rock hard, the tight top making them blatantly visible through the thin material, realizing Tim was purposely turning down the temperature. Fed up with him and his childish games, she closed the partition behind the driver's seat, thankful for the peace and quiet once he stopped bitching over the intercom about not being able to enjoy the scenery. After that small altercation the ride was uneventful, and Jen enjoyed the time to herself; at least until her thoughts returned to the past week and her humiliating plunge into depravity. She had no misgivings what she may have to do this week, the ride and trip making her feel like an animal being led to the slaughterhouse. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05 Jen had been true to Dan for almost six years since they had gotten back together after he graduated from college, yet in the last week she had let three different men fuck her, given oral sex to three, had at least four men finger her to orgasm, and stripped completely nude in front of who knew how many men. After all that happened, the last seemed pale in comparison, although at the time she had thought it the worst thing she could have done. Much of her flustered thoughts were due to the dichotomy caused by her mind being repulsed at what she had done and may end up doing, and her body's response. She would never have thought she would have sex with anybody except Dan, her being faithful something she wholeheartedly believed in with both mind and body all these years. Yet the circumstances of her contract and Mr. DeWight's involvement, along with everything transpiring the past week, was a complete betrayal to her and Dan. At the time, her reasoning had accepted having sex with Agent Geiger, and even Agent Vogel. Her mind had been resigned to allowing it to happen due to her circumstances, but now, after the fact, she was remorseful. The physical act she could have convinced herself to be excusable—what woman had not faked an orgasm sometime in her life? Unfortunately it was not the case here—what bothered her was how her body had responded, enjoying the sex, the feel of a strange man taking her overcoming her inhibitions, her body eagerly accepting, and in fact craving for more. It was the response from her body she feared the most. She could reconcile WHY she had sex with these other men, or even WHY she would probably have sex with others due to her contract and being 'undercover' for the FBI. These circumstances were uncontrollable, forced into the situations by her contract. It was upsetting to be forced to do something against her will and have it be legal, but not as upsetting as how she had given into the sensations, responding eagerly. She had told the FBI agents their concerns about her shirking her duty was not an issue, and had had given them proof by fucking two of them—there would be no problem convincing anybody else she was accepting her role as a porn actress, but it was not acting, as her own body would betray her! The repetitive stopping and starting of the limo let her know they had reached the airport, also breaking her reverie as she looked out from the heavily tinted windows. Tim's voice came over an intercom telling her he was dropping her off at the Departures entrance as he had to park the car, and Jen was again reminded he would also be flying to Los Angeles with her. She hoped he would not be sitting near her, but the way her luck was running she was not going to hold her breath, especially if the tickets had been purchased at the same time. Jen was startled when the limo door suddenly opened as the limo stopped yet again, a nice elderly black man in uniform helping her out of the car. She could not help but notice his wide eyes as he got a look at her, understanding she was dressed more for a night out at a club than a plane trip. She was also pretty certain he got a good view of her hard nipples sticking out through the fabric from the chilled car. Looking around, she noticed several other people also looking at her. For a moment she thought it was simply natural curiosity to see who may be getting out of a limo at the airport, and that may have been the case at first; however, she noticed most of the women turn away after a brief glance while the men blatantly looked at her. Their attention made her uneasy, knowing her outfit revealed half her body to the world. Once again Jen's body betrayed her, a thrill running through her at the attention she was receiving, her breasts tightening and a warm pleasant feeling deep within her stomach. Glancing at the time she saw it was 8:45 A.M.—there being plenty of time to go through Security and get to the gate as she entered the airport. Jen was a little apprehensive, not having flown for quite some time, and long before 9/11. In fact she had only been a little girl, but Tim had instructed her to follow the signs before driving off in the limo, so she was soon standing in line for the security check. Once again she became conscious of the stares from other men—some hesitant, others flagrant. She tried to occupy her mind by reading the fine print on her ticket, but instead noted how her nipples were conspicuously protruding through the material of her outfit, feeling a heated blush rush across her skin. Obviously she was embarrassed dressed so scantily in public and outside of the environment of the club; however, there was another feeling causing her skin to heat up, as she felt the betraying thrill of excitement in response to being dressed so scantily in public. It was the same sensation she felt when dancing at the club. In fact, it was one of the reasons Jen became a stripper, as a part of her was an admitted exhibitionist. As the line slowly moved forward she noticed an older teen openly looking at her. The line zigzagged back and forth and Jen kept passing him, feeling nervous at his intense gaze. The third time he came along side of her he had apparently gathered enough nerve to talk to her, asking if she were a model or actress. Flattered, Jen smiled telling him no, she was probably nobody he had seen before. "I swear I've seen your face before," he told her as she smiled and shook her head at his error. The line took them apart again as the teen began typing on his phone. As they were coming around for a fourth time she saw the teen raising his phone towards her, obviously taking a picture of her. Flattered, Jen smiled at him, actually complimented at him wanting a picture to show off to his friends. She could imagine the caption, 'hot babe I saw at the airport' as they got closer. Standing side-by-side once again, she heard a beep off of the teen's phone, his head bowed as he read his text message. Suddenly his eyes opened wide and his face turned red as he stared at her. Once again Jen felt flattered, the boy probably catching sight of her prominent nipples in his picture as they continuously attempted to poke out of her dress. Then her mind went into shock as he said, "You're Diamond, the new DSA girl!" Immediately Jen's face went from red in embarrassment to white in shock as she looked around, seeing several men turn towards her, now with even more interest and scrutiny. At first she tried to deny it telling him, "I'm sure you're mistaking me for somebody else," she said, but the boy continued. "No, it's definitely you, look!" he said, holding up his phone. Jen felt as if she were two inches tall as she saw a close-up of her face looking out from the screen, her mouth around what she knew to be Tim's cock. Jen saw the man behind the teen also looking at the camera, then at her, his mouth breaking into a big smile as he too realized who she was. Her embarrassment and weak denial was interrupted as the teen said, "Can I have your autograph, or better yet, can I get a picture with you?" he asked. Jen was still in shock, not knowing what to do as she numbly nodded, watching as the boy ducked under the rope in line, handing his phone to the guy behind him as his arm went around her bare waist. "Wait until the guys see this!" he said as the sound of the phone camera clicked. "Take a couple more," he told the guy as he leaned into her, his head against her breasts. Jen could only stand there in shock at the teen recognizing her. She saw several more guys taking pictures of her with their phones while the teen moved back into his place in line. Jen was dumfounded when the line moved steadily forward and she was handed several pieces of paper, even other plane tickets, as people asked her to autograph them. The first one she got she almost signed 'Jennifer Simmons' until she caught herself, at the last minute changing the 'J' to a large 'D' and signing 'Diamond.' Her embarrassment at being recognized for being in a porn video soon faded as she became amazed at the compliments she received—even by women—telling her how beautiful she was and how much they loved her acting. 'Acting,' she thought to herself, as if sucking another man's cock or dancing in a club was acting. And yet people asked for her autograph, others asking to take pictures with her. Jen could not believe how many people knew of her, several undoubtedly having seen her videos on the DSA website based on their comments. Others, recognizing what being a DSA Spokesmodel meant and regardless of their stand on pornography, nonetheless wanted pictures or autographs with a 'celebrity.' Jen's emotions switched from embarrassment to flattery, her 'stripper persona' coming out as she began flirting with some of the men, as well as a few women. It was an altogether new experience for her to be popular outside the club as she wondered if this would be an isolated incident. Soon she reached the x-ray system, putting her carry-on bag on the conveyer belt. When she bent down to take off her heels she heard several whistles from behind her and grinned, actually enjoying the attention. With a slight blush, she entered the scanner. Immediately the buzzing of the scanner went off and Jen looked at the man in the blue shirt with a badge in front of her as he told her to back up and enter again. Once again the buzzer went off, Jen noticing a red light flashing over the machine as the male TSA agent motioned her over to him by the conveyor belt where her carry-on baggage sat. "Are you holding any guns, knives, phones, or other metal objects?" he asked her. Jen looked down and raised her hands slightly, sticking her breasts out in frustration, "Do I LOOK like I can hide anything on me?" she asked, to the snickers of a few people behind her. She heard somebody in line behind her call out, "Maybe she's smuggling a vibrator on board," followed by several laughs as she blushed. The TSA agent looked at her up and down before motioning her to move towards the end of the conveyor belt. Gathering her carry-on and shoes he told her, "Please follow me ma'am." Barefooted, Jen followed the man to and area off to the side of the security checking area where she was guided into a small drape-enclosed cube. "A female agent will be with you shortly," the TSA agent told her. "Have I done something wrong?" she asked. The man looked back at her, his roving eyes causing Jen's body to flush in response as he replied, "No ma'am, standard procedure for a pat-down when the alarm goes off," he told her. "A female agent will be with you shortly," he told her once again, leaving her alone in the small cloth-enclosed area. Jen stood in the small area feeling silly. There were no chairs or tables, simply four 'walls' composed of drapes, the sounds of the airport coming easily to her ears. She assumed there were other draped rooms around her, as she could discern faint shadows of others next to her. She pulled out her phone, seeing it was 9:25 A.M. as she began to get anxious. Her flight left at ten o'clock, and boarding began in five minutes. In her nervousness she began to pace, worried about missing the flight. As the minutes ticked by she became more and more concerned. Finally after ten minutes had passed she pulled apart the draped door, motioning to the same male TSA agent who had escorted her here. "Excuse me," she said, getting his attention. "Did somebody forget about me? I need to catch my flight," she told him. The man apologized, stating they were shorthanded and a female agent would be coming by soon. Pulling out his radio, he made a call and she heard a deep voice reply loudly over the speaker, "Roger two-five-one, ETA female agent fifteen minutes." "Fifteen minutes!" Jen exclaimed, "My flight leaves at ten, can't you do this?" she asked impatiently. The male agent's eyes dropped down to her body as he answered, "I'm sorry ma'am," he told her. "Policy dictates a female agent is required to pat down female passengers," he told her. "Unless of course you wish to fill out a waiver," he added seeing Jen's frustration. Jen said she would sign anything if it would get her through security, so the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a printed index card and a pen. In her rush, she did not even bother reading the paper—a brief flashback of déjà vu hitting her signing her contract the week before, and what it had cost her—but she was in a hurry and quickly signed it, handing the card back to the agent. Expecting the agent to immediately follow her into the room, she walked back towards it; however, the agent still stood outside. Seeing him pause, she asked if something was wrong. "No ma'am, I still cannot enter the room alone with a woman without another agent present," he told her smiling as he now openly looked at her body. Jen sighed in exasperation, about to tell him he had entered earlier with her when she saw a tall muscular black man also in a TSA uniform coming towards them. As the man got closer Jen stared up in awe, as he kept getting larger and larger—he must have been close to 7 feet tall she realized, as he greeted the other TSA agent. "This is Marcus, my supervisor," the first agent told her. "He will be witnessing the pat down, assisting if necessary," he told her, holding open the drape for her to step back into the enclosed area. Jen wondered what type of 'assistance' was needed to check for explosives and guns when she heard the black man ask, "You have the waiver?" in a deep baritone voice, recognizing the voice from the radio earlier. She glanced back and saw the smaller white man hand the index card to him. The large black man stepped in front of her and smiled, causing her heart to flutter. He physically overwhelmed her, being well-built, tall and muscular, towering over her and making Jen feel like a child standing in front of him. Not only did his size intimidate her, but also the way he looked at her, causing her to catch her breath; the man regarded her like as if he was looking at a good steak dinner rather than another human being. Jen felt her body flush as he smiled down at her, the bright whiteness of his teeth in sharp contrast to his dark skin. "First, Mike here is going to check your hair for any dangerous objects," he told her as the small white man moved behind her. She felt her hair being patted as the smaller white man moved to her pony tail, then his grip wrapped around her skull as he felt her entire head. He paused briefly at her hairclip and Jen wondered if it was the reason the x-ray machine went off as he stepped aside. Immediately the black man moved behind her, his presence towering over Jen as he said to her in his deep baritone, "I need to check as well, as Mike is still in training. If he misses something that ends up causing an incident, it's both our careers," the large man explained behind her. Once again Jen felt hands going through her hair. The large man's touch was gentler than the other agent, his hands almost caressing her hair and head as he completed his search and moved back in front of her. Noticing the time on the large man's watch as he moved away, Jen saw it was now nine-forty as she became even more anxious. "Can we please hurry up, my plane leaves at ten!" she said impatiently. "Of course ma'am," the large black man smiled down at her. "We need a couple minutes to search your person for weapons and other illegal items, Mike?" he said to the small white man, who stepped up to Jen. "Ma'am, please put your hands behind your head like this," he told her, demonstrating to her the position he wanted. "Good," he told her when she complied. "Now, please spread your legs slightly," he instructed her as he crouched down in front of her, asking her to spread her feet a bit wider as she complied. Jen became worried the man would see she was not wearing any underwear, then gasped as she felt his cool hands wrap around her right ankle, his hand sliding up her calf to her knee, then reaching around and palming the back of her knee. "Do you really need to feel anything than through my clothes?" she asked, trying to push away the sensual feelings of the stranger's hands on her skin, practically feeling her up. It was the large dark man who replied. "Ma'am, you would be surprised how some people have hidden things beneath their skin, or even in their body. Drugs, explosives—we once had somebody slide a knife under the skin of their arm. People are perverted these days, and terrorists have given us plenty of reason to be thorough," he explained. At this point Jen only wanted to get to her plane as she muttered an exasperated, "Fine," as the man continued his 'pat-down,' his hands moving up her lower thigh. As Jen stood there with her fingers clasped behind her head, the smaller agent running his hands across her skin, she turned her focus in front of her, noticing the black man holding up a phone! "Are you recording this?" she asked in surprise as he smiled back at her. "Standard procedure ma'am," he told her. "It avoids a civil lawsuit if you claim we were overly aggressive with our search," he said. "The waiver only covers so much liability," he said in way of explanation. The man kneeling before her then slid both his hands around the back of her thigh, his touch almost sensual as he wrapped them around her leg, slowly moving higher. Reaching the hem of her skirt, the man's hands kept rising, his palms sliding against her skin as his fingers wrapped around her, disappearing beneath her skirt! Jen closed her eyes in embarrassment as the man's left hand moved up her hip beneath her skirt, the bare flesh of his hand was warm against her, his touch almost caressing her skin instead of clinically trying to feel any foreign objects beneath her skin. She knew immediately he would perceive her not wearing any panties when her eyes suddenly flew open in shock as his hand moved up her inner thigh, his thumb or finger briefly brushing against her bare, shaved crotch before quickly moving away and grasping her other leg, his hands now around her ankle. Jen stared down at the man who did not even look up at her as he felt up her other leg. She wondered if his touch had been accidental, as it had happened so fast. And the man had not responded, so it must have been a mistake she thought, as the agent's hands moved up her tanned leg. She took a shuddered inhale as the agent's soft touch once again slid past her knee, moving up her thigh and sliding beneath her skirt. This time there was no doubt in Jen's mind his touch not an accident, as his finger slid across her bare slit. She sucked in another breath and almost said something, but then her attention was focused on the other agent, who was staring at her intently with the phone camera held in front of him. His intense gaze upon her made her once again feel like she was a buffet and he was deciding which piece of her to eat as her mind went blank. She ignored the other agent, who had already stood up. It had been such a fleeting touch she realized, so decided to simply get through with the pat down and get on her plane, not wanting to delay any longer with a complaint. Let him have his cheap thrill at her expense, the worry of missing her plane making her more anxious. That was before the smaller white man stepped back and the larger black agent handed him his phone. Jen realized she had to stand through the ordeal yet again, the supervisor needing to make sure nothing was hidden between her legs! Jen's heart was racing, a combination of panic from being late to the plane as well as arousal at being alone with two men feeling her up. The thought of missing her plane again came to her mind as she resigned herself to not creating a fuss. Her primary goal was to her gate as quick as possible. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05 As such, Jen continued to stand with her hands behind her, her legs spread, as the muscular black man knelt in front of her, his hands gently moving up her leg. Once again his touch was more sensual than the white man's. The way his fingers caressed her skin made it obvious he was not looking for anything but a quick feel. "Dangerous items my ass," she thought, as his hands moved up her legs lecherously. Jen's body, traitor it was, was responding to the men's touches, a warm sensation building within her stomach, moving to the cleft between her legs. The eroticism was not lost on her, in a room with two men feeling her up, dressed in a sexy outfit, and a recognized porn star. Her mind began to wander to more lascivious thoughts as the sexual tension built up in the room. Soon the large black agent's hands were also beneath her skirt. Jen was amazed at how large his hands were, one hand moving up and wrapping around not only her hip, but also palming her ass cheek! Looking down, her heart skipped seeing unlike the other man, the black man was looking up at her with a smile as he held her hip and ass, looking down at him stupidly. She sucked in a breath when his other hand moved up the inside of her thigh and deliberately brushed against her slit. Unlike the other man Jen knew this was no accident, his gaze purposely locking on to hers as his finger slowly moved up and down her bare slit. Jen's mind went blank. She could only stare straight ahead, not even looking at the agent holding the camera as her body responded to being felt up by the agent. To be felt up at the club by a stranger was one thing, but the large, clearly dominant black man was something altogether different. For one thing he was a government agent, responsible for the safety of thousands. In addition, Jen had not had much exposure to black men other than those who came to the club, and the seductive rawness of the dark agent's hands upon her lent an aura of illicitness her body could not deny, her breath catching as her pulse increased. Then the man moved to her other leg, repeating the entire caressing fondling of her leg, ass, and ultimately her crotch. Jen's sex was now heated, only able to stare as the black man stroked her slit--now wet—his gliding across her silky labia, spreading her desire across her skin. Jen was breathless, actually disappointed as he stood up and backed away, taking the phone from the white agent. "So far so good," he smiled as she felt her body flush hotly, taking the camera from the smaller white agent. The Caucasian agent walked behind her and Jen jerked in surprise as he gripped her ass cheeks with both hands. She felt like her hands were actually bound behind her head as she numbly stared forward, directly into the dark man's eyes as he filmed her 'pat down,' nobody saying a word while the other agent massaged her ass. This time the agent was blatant in his groping, not hiding his touch as any semblance of a professional body search, and Jen knew he had been emboldened by the black man's touch of her crotch and her lack of objection. Giving her ass cheeks a final squeeze, his hands slid around her hips to her stomach. Moving higher, Jen sucked in another gasp as his hands slid beneath her breasts, cupping and lifting them before moving to her arms, his hands sliding up to her wrists before he eventually stepped away, once again changing places with the black man. As the large man moved behind her, Jen was not surprised his hands rested upon her ass. Once again the different between the two men entered her mind as instead of roughly groping like the other guy, the taller agent's hands were again gentle, slowly moving across her firm ass. Jen felt her body heat up further as she felt a finger moved up and down the crack of her ass, gently tickling her. He then repeated the other agent's path, sliding his hands around her waist and feeing first her pelvis, then her stomach, and finally moving beneath her breasts. Once more Jen was amazed at how large the man's hands were—matching his large physique towering over her—as he cupped her breasts. She felt him pause and Jen stood there, her arms raised behind her head, as a black man held up her breasts, her cleavage bulging out from the cowl neckline. His voice startled her from behind, "Now Mike, one thing I noticed is you missed a very important part of the pat down," he said to the other man from over her shoulder, his hands not leaving her chest. She felt ridiculous standing there with a large black man's arms around her, his hands holding her breasts, while another guy filmed the entire scene as she listened to the man speaking. Suddenly Jen let out an involuntary moan as the man's hands literally engulfed her tits, encasing them in his dark palms as he began to massage them roughly. She was barely aware of him continuing to talk as he said, "You see, a lot of woman try to hide things in their bra or down their cleavage," Marcus explained to the other agent. Jen could only stand still, her mind in shock while her body became completely aroused at the man feeling her up. "In fact," he said over her shoulder, "there was this one case down in Dallas where a woman actually had breast implants filled with coke," he said. Jen let out another moan as the man's fingers abruptly clamped down on her nipples as her body once again betrayed her, her physical response fueled by the fondling of the most sensitive spot of her body. In her now heightened sexual state, she depravedly wondered if they planned on giving her a cavity search. She actually felt a mournful yearning when the man let go of her, leaving her gasping as he stepped in front of her. Jen was barely aware of her surroundings as the man smiled and said, "It's nine-fifty-five ma'am, you are free to go," he told her he and the smaller white man exited the curtained room. In a panic, with only five minutes until her flight, Jen immediately banished the carnal thoughts surging through her and grabbing her shoes and bag, ran barefooted out of the draped cube getting her bearings to head in the direction of her plane's departure gate. As she exited, she saw about a dozen female TSA agents standing around. She also saw several people being patted down—not in the enclosed areas where she had been, but in the open! She also noted how all the agents were wearing gloves, and as she looked back at the two men, saw them laughing as they waved back at her. A flush of embarrassment came over Jen as she realized she was a victim of their perversions, but knowing her plane left in a few minutes, ran as fast as she could to her gate. While she ran, she suspected the 'waiver' she had signed had been fake, the men detaining her to the point where she had let them do what they want in order to get to her plane. Running down the terminal, Jen's breasts bounced and flopped all over due to her not wearing a bra beneath the tight dress; however, she did not care due to the time. As she came to her departing gate she finally slowed down, out of breath. She saw a large group of business men watching her appreciatively, but ignored them, instead looking at the sign behind the gate agent. She suddenly felt relieved and embarrassed when she saw the sign behind the counter: 'Los Angeles Flight 7718 Delayed -- 30 minutes.' Her flight was delayed. As she mentally thanked God for small miracles, she wondered if the TSA agents had known the plane's new departure time. They had looked at her ticket and known her flight information, was it possible they knew she would not be late, keeping her secluded to increase her anxiety and thereby letting them touch her? She mentally chastised herself for getting into such a predicament, being so gullible, as she looked around for a place to sit. Jen saw Tim sitting near the gate podium and deciding she did not need his company in her current state, took a seat as far from him as possible. Out of the corner of her eye she saw several people looking at her, some of the men not so subtly taking pictures with their cell phones, realizing they probably recognized her, possibly some of them having been in line with her at the security gate. Although still flattered at her slight fame—even if it was from her being in a pornographic video—Jen wanted to be left alone. Her body was still stimulated from being physically abused by the TSA agents, and at this point all she wanted was to simply get on the plane, get to Los Angeles, and get through the day as quickly as possible. Pulling out her iPod and putting in her ear buds, Jen opened up one of the magazines she had brought. While listening to the music and reading she kept one eye on the display board, attempting to ignore everybody around her intending let her body cool down. A few minutes later Jen was startled as her phone began vibrating within her bag. Pulling it out, she saw she had received a text from an unknown caller. Immediately thinking of Dan, who was the only one besides the FBI who had this phone's number, she pulled up the message, seeing it was a picture attachment. It took her a moment for her mind to process what her eyes saw, when she suddenly became mortified, realizing it was a picture of her chest in her white dress with two large black hands squeezing her breasts through her top! Jen realized in horror the TSA agents must have gotten her phone number when they had gone through her things while her attention had been diverted from their perverted pat down. She sighed in anguish, vowing to never fly again if she could help it as she tried to settle her mind. Her body was still aroused from the men's attention, and the text did nothing to alleviate the yearning she was feeling. Also not helping her cool down was observing several men out of the corner of her eye still watching at her, several more taking pictures with their cell phones while waiting for the plane. Being on display was enticing to her exhibitionist side, and added to her previous arousal, it was all she could do to remain outwardly calm, while inwardly her body was a raging hormonal factory. Thankfully several minutes later an attendant announced the plane would be boarding soon, the maintenance delaying the plane completed early. Jen was further relieved when they announced the flight would still land on time—meaning it would be a short flight. As the announcement for First Class boarding to begin came over the speakers, Jen realized she had not looked at her ticket to know what seat she was in. Pulling it out to check, she stared in surprise at the large letters across the top—'First Class'—her seat assigned as C1. Getting up, surprised she had been given a first class ticket, Jen once again noticed the reaction her body and suggestive attire caused around her. Wanting nothing more to do with anybody's attention, she quickly got in line to board the plane; however, there were still several people who came up to her asking for an autograph or a picture as word of who she was spread around the gate. Ashamedly she again felt a buzz through her body responding to the attention, grateful when she eventually entered the gate ramp to board the plane. Entering the plane Jen was greeted by both a female and male flight attendant. Contrary to the stereotype of male flight attendants sexual tendencies, the man's eyes immediately focused on her breasts. Ignoring him and the involuntary warmth spreading between her legs, Jen smiled at the female attendant, startled to notice the woman was also staring at her breasts! Jen's face flushed as the female attendant then looked at her directly in the eyes, smiling broadly as she welcomed Jen aboard even more enthusiastically than the first time. Turning towards the rows of seats, Jen observed seat A1 was a window seat, deducing her seat was two rows further back. She was annoyed but not surprised to see Tim sitting in the seat next to hers. She had presumed their seats would be together, but she had kept a small hope Tim might have been sitting in the coach class. Thankfully it was only a two-hour flight and she planned on sleeping most of the time, so could put up with his shit for a bit longer. Tim smiled up at her when she got to their row, his eyes widening when she leaned up to put her carry-on in the overhead bin, knowing he was getting a good view of her breasts through the white material. Suddenly she gasped, looking down in surprise as his hand wrapped around the back of her thigh, his cool palm resting against the bottom of her bare ass beneath her skirt! "Do you mind?" she said snottily. Tim smiled, "Not at all," he said as he gave her ass cheek a firm squeeze. Jen noticed a couple of the passengers watching them, Tim's hand easily outlined beneath the tight skirt as she quickly scooted into the seat, Tim's hand 'guiding' her as she moved over him. "I supposed it was too much for you to move?" she asked angrily as she sank into her seat, his hand moving away as he merely smiled. "What kept you so long getting to the gate?" he asked, "Stop for a quickie?" he asked her with amusement. Jen looked out the window, purposely ignoring him as her mind flashed back to her groping session with the two TSA agents. She continued ignoring him as the plane boarded, only turning when the female flight attendant asked if they wanted anything to drink. Jen's nerves were on end, both from her slight fear of flying after so long, as well as the TSA agents' exploitation of her body, as well as all the attention her 'fans' had given her—not to mention Tim sitting right next to her for two hours—so she knew she needed a drink. Asking if First Class still offered free drinks, she ignored Tim's scoff as she asked for a mimosa. "That sounds great," Tim said to the flight attendant, "make that two Vodka Mimosas," he told her giving her a big smile. Jen did not know what a Vodka Mimosa was, but being as vodka was her drink of choice—something Tim knew from bartending the Satin Kitty—she did not object, once again turning to look out the window and ignore the man next to her. The interior of the plane was cold, the vents above her blowing directly upon her so Jen reached up to turn off the blower above her seat, suddenly realizing the breeze was coming from Tim's side, the vents being wide open. "Mind if I turn off the air," she asked, not surprised when Tim told her he wanted the air on, giving her some excuse about him getting air sick if he did not have continuous air flow. Not caring if he was telling the truth or merely wanted her to be uncomfortable—recalling the temperature he kept the limo at in order to see her nipples react—she began to get goose bumps on her arms and legs from the chill air. Looking down she was also embarrassed seeing her nipples looking like they would burrow out of the dress at any moment, so when the flight attendant returned with their drinks, she asked for not one, but two blankets, ignoring Tim's scoff at her thin blood. Sipping her drink she was surprised, the drink had more of a kick than she expected due to the vodka, so it was similar to a screwdriver, but the fizzy kick and sweetness of the champagne gave it a nice flavor. She quickly finished it, the alcohol calming her nerves as well as giving her a warm feeling in her stomach, welcomed in the cold plane. Seeing her empty champagne glass, the attendant quickly brought her a second. Jen almost refused, but knowing there was a company car waiting for her at the LAX airport and she did not have to drive, instead told the attendant to keep them coming, finishing her second by the time the attendant brought a third drink. "I don't suppose I'm lucky enough to not have you as a driver when we get to L.A.?" she asked Tim sarcastically as she sipped her drink, the warm numbing sensation calming her nerves. Tim smiled as he answered, "Unfortunately my meeting is not near corporate headquarters, so you'll have to do without my graceful company the rest of the week," he smiled at her. "I'm sure Mr. DeWight has made arrangements for a driver," he told her. "No matter what people may think of what you do or what type of person he is, nobody disagrees on how well Mr. DeWight treats the company's spokesmodels. They are pretty much considered royalty," he told her, "so you should expect to be pampered at the corporate office." Jen wondered if his comment were really true, knowing some of the awful crimes Mr. DeWight was wanted for by the FBI, but kept her mouth shut. She was inwardly thankful Tim was not driving her and would actually be parting company with her after the plane landed. Thanking God for small miracles, the captain's voice came over the speakers, reviewing the safety procedures, time of the flight, and other stuff she was certain nobody except a first-time flyer like herself listened to. Jen was feeling the effects of her drinks when she noticed a fourth round had appeared on the armrest, the flight attendant following her directions and keeping her filled. Although she did not need another drink at this point, she drank down this glass as well, finishing as the gate moved back and the plane began backing up from the gate. The flight attendant came by to get their empty glasses, saying they could not have any while the plane was taking off, so Jen tucked herself beneath her two blankets, making herself comfortable as the speakers again went over the procedures in case of a crash. She was feeling a warm numbness from the drinks, giving her a cozy feeling. Pulling out her iPod and cranking it up, she closed her eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep. ******************** Jen was in bed, cocooned beneath the quilts as she felt Dan stir beside her. She smiled sleepily as his hand moved across her thigh, sliding up her smooth flesh and caressing her hip, then the back of her leg, finally resting on her ass. His hand moved again, crossing her waist and up her side, sliding beneath the chemise she always wore to bed. She sighed as his warm hand slid across her heated flesh and gently squeezed her breast, his fingers tweaking her nipple and causing her to groan in content. As Dan's hand moved across her breast she felt his other hand slide once again along her thigh, the skin-on-skin contact awakening her desire as she moaned in response, turning slightly to give her lover more access to her body, her legs parting slightly. Dan took her offering, massaging both her breast and inner thigh, gently stroking her flesh as her body warmed in desire. When Dan's hand moved away from her breast she moaned pitifully, wanting more, her plaintive whimper becoming more urgent as she felt both his hands upon her thighs, pulling her legs apart which she eagerly accepted. Soon her whimpers of need were fulfilled as she felt Dan enter her, gasping as his cock moved into the soft wet folds of her slit. Jen thrust her hips, meeting his penetration as he slowly moved in and out of her. Jen felt his other hand on once again upon her breast as he began moving fast inside of her, her hips now rocking to meet his thrusts, gasping as he pinched her nipples. Eagerly meeting his thrusts, her mind was suddenly overwhelmed by an orgasm as her clit was stroked, the warm rush flowing through her as she panted from Dan's cock continuing to move in and out of her. Again she felt her clit stroked, the oncoming dull roar of her orgasm filling her ears like a jet as his cock moved in and out of her and her clit was simultaneously manipulated. ******************** Suddenly Jen opened her eyes, her body shaking from an orgasm. Then her mind took in her surroundings. She was on a plane, Dan was not here. And Tim's hand was between her legs, his fingers moving in and out of her pussy! Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05 In shock Jen sat up. "What the fuck are you doing?" she said, loud enough to draw attention from a couple people sitting around her. Jen immediately pushed Tim's hand away as he smiled at her, his arm slipping out from beneath the blankets covering her. "Just giving you some relaxation, you definitely seem to need it," he chuckled, showing her his wet fingers as he slowly and deliberately began to lick them. Jen could only stare in shock with her realization of him blatantly finger-fucking her in her sleep—on a plane no less! Waves of humiliation overwhelmed her as she recognized the signs of arousal in her body. In horror and shame Jen hurriedly climbed over Tim, ignoring his hands on her bare thighs as she got up, adjusting her skirt and making a bee-line to the bathroom, thankful it was empty as she stepped inside. Once within the small confined space, she checked to make sure the toilet was clean and not going to soil her dress before sitting down and taking some deep breaths in an attempt to clear her mind. "That fucker," she said out loud, her nerves completely frazzled as her body continued to react from the sexual manipulation. Her revulsion was only mental, her body fully aroused and yearning for more. Her moist slit was uncomfortable between her legs, her pussy fully aroused from Tim's manipulation while her breasts were tight and aching. Closing her eyes, Jen counted to twenty before getting up, slightly wobbly on her feet as her body continued to yearn. Wetting a paper towel and holding it to her forehead to calm down, she slowly gathered her composure. Eventually she was able to breathe steadily, startled when she heard over the speakers the attendant's voice announcing the plane was thirty minutes from landing and they would be walking around collecting trash as they prepared to land. Knowing she could keep awake for 30 more minutes and ignore Tim, she pulled the latch of the bathroom door, surprised when it immediately opened and Tim stepped inside, forcing her back against the sink counter. "What the fuck?" she gasped as Tim merely smiled at her as he grabbed her hip and shoulder, spinning her around to face the mirror. His body pressed against her back and ass, grinding her pelvis into the counter as she tried to pull away. "Tim, what the fuck are you doing?" she exclaimed. Tim did not say anything as his hands moved up and slid beneath the top of her dress, immediately kneading her breasts. "Stop it!" she demanded, her mind at odds with the response her body was having, feeling the slow ache between her legs begin once again. Although she had been sexually assaulted in her sleep, her body had been left aching and in need. Her mind was in turmoil as she comprehended Tim was forcing himself on her in the bathroom! A part of her mind screamed rape, while a darker and deeper part of her psyche welcomed the sexual attention, her body yearning for the violation. Her body won when her outburst turned into a moan as Tim's fingers clamped down on both her nipples, lust overwhelming her. In response, Jen involuntarily leaned back into Tim's chest as his hands continued massaging her soft flesh. Jen felt Tim's pelvis dry humping her ass as he pressed her against the counter, once again moaning uncontrollably as he squeezed her nipples, her ass pushing back harder into his crotch. Jen felt one of Tim's hands move from beneath her top and she looked at him in the mirror, seeing her bright pink lipstick contrasted against her tanned skin, her mouth open in a pant, the 'O' formed by her lips looking sensual and natural as she was violated—unfortunately not completely against her will. She suddenly felt cool air on her ass realizing Tim had lifted her skirt, and also felt and heard him undoing his pants. She watched in the mirror as the khaki material slid past his hips, sudden comprehension in her mind as she noticed him not wearing underwear and what was about to happen. "Tim! No—oooh!" she exclaimed as Tim's cock slid into her vaginal canal, her moan echoing in the small space. Not only was his aim true, but her body eagerly accepted the invasion. Normally such a thrust would have been painful; however, she was completely wet and aroused from her wet dream and earlier passion, so his long member slid easily into her. Unable to control her body, Jen tilted her hips, instinctively giving Tim an easier angle as his cock pulled back and once again slammed into her. Jen's hands grasped the sink counter as her head fell forward, her hair falling around her face as her body was overcome with lust, giving in to her assault. She felt Tim's hands move her pony tail around her neck, realizing what he was doing too late as he untied her top and the white material fell forward, exposing her breasts as he untied the back as well. Jen watched in the mirror as Tim's hands grasped her unfettered breasts, his pelvis moving erratically as he fucked her from behind. She could only pant as his cock entered her repeatedly, her body flooded with desire—too aroused to care she was being violated by her co-worker, and for all intents and purposes, raping her. "Oh-oooh," she moaned again as Tim's hands kneaded her flesh, the fatty tissue bulging from between his fingers like dough as he once again squeezed her nipples and his cock pistoned in and out between her slit. She could feel her vaginal muscles grasping the member sliding in and out of her, each thrust sending pleasure throughout her body as she stood there, allowing him to have his way with her, and even responding by meeting h is thrusts with her hips. While being fucked Jen became aware of Tim whispering to her. Realizing she had closed her eyes in desire, she opened them and watched in the mirror as her body was jerked up and down with each of Tim's thrusts, his hands holding onto her breasts as she finally made out his words. "This is what a DSA girl is all about," he was saying as his cock slammed into her. "Ready to be fucked at all times, taking any cock available, loving every second of it," he said, pulling back and then ramming back into her forcefully. "You like this Diamond, don't you?" he asked as his cock slammed into her again and again as she grunted. "Don't you Diamond, you like to be fucked?" he asked her again. Jen could only cry out "Yes!" as she felt her body building to another orgasm while her breasts were fondled, her pussy ravaged. The speakers beeped and the male attendant's voice came over the intercom saying people should return to their seats in preparation for landing; however, Jen's could do nothing as her body was trapped and used against the sink, lost in her own lust. Tim began pumping faster, the small bathroom echoing with the steady thumping as Jen's body was pushed repeatedly against the sink. Suddenly he slammed into her one more time, his cock deep inside her as she felt a warm wave pass through her lower stomach, knowing he was cumming inside her. The abrupt awareness of her violation, her co-worker cumming inside her, was too much for her mind to grasp as her own orgasm engulfed her body. She felt her vaginal canal clamp down on the cock inside her causing Tim to moan as her muscles gripped his shaft like a fist, the shuddering movements of her sex milking him in the natural response of reproduction, pulling every last drop of sperm from his cock as her vaginal canal squeezed him dry. Finally she felt Tim's deflating cock slip out of her, both their rapid breathing echoing within the small bathroom broken only by the roar of the plane's engines. They were both startled when a knock on the door came followed by the male flight attendant's voice stating, "We need everybody back to their seats for landing." Jen looked into the mirror seeing their reflection, observing her bare torso, her skirt hiked up around her waist, as her co-worker smiled at her over her shoulder. Suddenly he turned her around to face him, abruptly pushing her down to the commode until she was sitting in front of him. Tim's cock was right in front of her face, his pubic hairs matted with both of their fluids, the odor of sex—pussy mixed with cum—strong in her nostrils. "Clean me off," he told her, his cock moving closer to her mouth. "We can't let the plane stay up in the air all day," he chuckled. Knowing Tim would not care if they did in fact stay in the air all day, her mind was still in a haze of post-coital lust as she leaned forward, her tongue lifting his cock as she sucked the deflating member into her mouth. Tim let out a moan as Jen drew him into her oral cavity, his hands wrapping around her head and pulling her face further into his pelvis. The mixture of both their fluids—salty, sweet, and bitter—filled Jen's mouth. While she suckled on Tim's cock, cleaning him off, she also used her hands and toilet paper to wipe away the cum leaking from her slit, hoping she could clean up enough to not leak out on her skirt. After a few moments Tim pulled back, his cock sliding out of Jen's mouth with a loud intake of her breath and a slight 'popping' sound. Without saying a word he pulled up his pants and exited the bathroom, leaving her sitting on the closed commode. As the door slid shut Jen heard Tim apologize to the flight attendant about being preoccupied. Immediately the door opened again to Jen's surprise, the wide-eyed stare of the male flight attendant on her. Seeing her disheveled appearance—her skirt still pulled up around her hips and her top down and exposing her breasts—not to mention the small enclosed area permeated with the odor of sex, he broke into a grin, telling her she needed to go to her seat as soon as possible before once again closing the door. Embarrassed and completely humiliated, Jen finished cleaning and straightening herself up as much as possible before making her way out of the bathroom. Once again she had difficulty tying the strap around her back, but eventually managed. Peeking her head out the bathroom, she was thankful the male flight attendant was not around, so quickly exited the bathroom and made her way towards her seat. As she passed by the flight attendant stand the female attendant stopped her, smiling and handing her a metal pin in the shape of pilot's wings. Jen looked at her in confusion. "Welcome to the mile-high club," the woman whispered to Jen as her face broke out in a blush. Ashamedly she moved back to her seat, her mind completely numbed and oblivious to climbing over Tim or the looks and grins of the other passengers. Sitting back down, Jen stared out of the window until the plane eventually landed. She was still in a stupor as the plane pulled to the gate, barely responding as people began getting up and rushing to get out of the plane. Startled as something came across her view, she looked up to see Tim handing her carry-on bag to her. Taking it, she finally got up out of the seat, following the line of people off the plane. Although Tim was behind her, he surprisingly did not touch her in any way as they left the plane. What the hell was wrong with her, her mind kept repeating. She had actually enjoyed Tim having his way with her, actually cumming with him! Sure she had been mentally opposed to it, her mind screaming "No!" as she tried to get away; however, her body vetoed her mind, the definite "Yes!" being loud and clear as she eagerly responded to Tim's thrusts. Even now she could feel her nipples hardening at the thought of his use of her, feeling the moist sensation of his cum still between her legs. She walked in a daze, following the mass of people who had left her plane, not paying attention to where she was really going. She barely noticed several men looking at her appreciatively, attempting to ignore them as her body—fresh from being used—once again stirred. Her mind was a flood of cascading images ranging between running away screaming and dropping to the ground with her legs spread and letting them have their way with her, and everything in between. In the last three days, she had had sex with three different men, none of them being her own fiancé. Jen felt disgusted with herself. Sure she could come with excuses, letting Agents Geiger and Vogel have their way with her to prove she could play her role at DSA—but Tim? She could say she was assaulted, violated against her will, but she knew her body's reaction had betrayed her, even now feeling a thrill at the encounter. God, she was a fucking slut, she thought. Her mind in a complete turmoil, unable to grasp a hold of her senses, mentally in shock. Suddenly her reverie was broken by a sudden flashing of lights, as if a strobe light were going in front of her. The bright stimulus was enough to catch her attention and break the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind. Looking up past the gate she saw a crowd of what looked like reporters, their cameras flashing non-stop. Wondering who they were there for, she suddenly she made out their yells: Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05 Jen could only stand there as the men took picture after picture of her breasts, not needing to look down to know her nipples were rock hard and projecting proudly through the dress. As if nothing unusual had happened Mr. DeWight said, "Alright, last question," as Jen focused on the final reporter she had not answered, while her breasts strained tight against her skin. The man looked at her without hesitation and asked, "So do you actually swallow or is it just theatrics and fake cum you put in your mouth?" Jen's eyes widened as she stared at the man in shock, unprepared for such a vulgar question. Mr. DeWight burst out laughing next to her as he answered, "Not only does she swallow, but she is the best oral sex artist DSA has ever had," he announced to them as Jen cringed in shame and embarrassment. Then her head came up in shock as Mr. DeWight continued, "In fact, if we weren't in such a public place, I would have her prove it to you," he laughed as he turned and saw Jen's shocked expression. The reporter chuckled, asking if he could get a rain check to everybody's laughter as Jen once again felt her face turn fifty shades of red. Finally Mr. DeWight guided her around, telling the reporters over his shoulder that would be it for the day and to contact the main office for Diamond's fact sheet. They made their way outside as Mr. DeWight guided her to another stretch white limousine, opening the door for her and then sliding in next to her as he instructed the driver to head to the office. "You did marvelous my dear," Mr. DeWight told her, placing his hand on her thigh. "I do apologize for that, I did not think they would be swarming until the official announcement Friday," he told her. "But obviously, reporters are reporters," he grinned, his hand squeezing her leg. Jen ignored his hand—the man had done more to her already—as she asked if it was always like that, surprised when Mr. DeWight told her that group had actually been mild, smiling at Jen's shocked expression. "Once your full schedule is announced and they learn your patterns, there will be at least twice as many following you at each engagement. That's why I wanted you to wear something appropriate for a DSA girl," he explained, his hand nonchalantly reaching up and stroking the side of her breast with the back of his hand before placing it back on her thigh. His hand slid back and forth across her skin as he continued. "One of the meetings you will be attending this week is how to handle such things," he told her. "The basic gist is you string them out, answering questions politely until you are ready to end it. Then you dangle out a nice carrot—like letting Bert feel your tits," he laughed at her stunned expression. "It was harmless," he shrugged, "and will be something not only he but the others will remember, causing you to stick out in their minds—and that is good advertising. It gives them more to think about, not barraging you with questions later on in the hopes of getting similar treatment," he said, still smiling at her while his hand continued stroking her thigh. Jen realized his hand had reaching the short hemline of her skirt, but was again distracted as Mr. DeWight continued talking. "As I told you," he explained to her, "you are not only a DSA model, but the lead spokesmodel for the entire company. You are the physical manifestation of the company, our avatar so-to-speak. You will be expected to live and breathe raw sex and sensuality whenever you are in public, dressed to the nines so every person you meet wants you. When the opportunity arises, you will flirt, fondle, and do what it takes to show you are a true representative of the company," he said, his fingers moving her hem higher as the continued to stroke her thigh. "You mean be a slut," Jen said in exasperation. Suddenly Mr. DeWight's hand slid between her legs, his had cupping her naked crotch as his middle finger stroked her slit, still wet from Tim's use of her. Jen gasped as Mr. DeWight said, "That is what it takes to be a DSA Spokesmodel," he told her as his finger slowly parted the folds of her vaginal lips, spreading her desire across her soft skin reminiscent of her pat-down at the airport with the black TSA agent. Yet again Jen was caught in a moment of being both embarrassed and aroused. Hearing Mr. DeWight chuckle at her reaction she realized in horror he was probably thinking the amount of her wetness was due to her arousal, not Tim's previous use of her! Jen let out a moan as his finger slid into the folds of her slit, her legs involuntarily spreading apart as her hips tilted up. Meanwhile her attention was drawn to Mr. DeWight's face as he continued talking like nothing unusual was going on—or that his finger was sliding in and out of her pussy. "A DSA girl is more than a slut Diamond; she is every man and woman's fantasy. You are not just a wet dream, you are more. You are not only the promise, but the fulfillment of great sex," he told her as he moved his finger in and out of her. "On film you show what you can do; on the stage you reveal how accessible you are to men, being a real, tangible seductress. The more you give them—like that reporter—the more they will be interested in following your every move, buying every movie and picture available of you on the site. You are not only sex, but money Diamond. Sex sells and you are the top dealer to every person in the world," he told her. Jen was barely listening as Mr. DeWight's thumb began to rub her clitoris, her breath coming out in ragged breaths as she felt her hips begin to move almost imperceptibly. Again as if he did not have his hand between her legs, masturbating her, Mr. DeWight continued. "This is how you should be acting," he told her as her mind attempted to focus on his words. With each movement of his finger her arousal increased, her body craving release from his hand. "You are sex personified and should always be ready, willing, and able," he told her as he slid a second finger inside her, moving more rapidly in and out of her. Jen was panting now as the hand between her legs continued their invasion of her womanhood. "Now, I want you to close your eyes and cum for me," he commanded. Jen looked at him in surprise as he smiled. "If we had time, I would ask the same from you, but we are almost to the office and I think you need the stress relief," he chuckled. "Now, close your eyes," he ordered. Jen could not help herself as she did what she was asked, closing her eyes and leaning back as Mr. DeWight's fingers moved faster and faster in and out of her, simultaneously rubbing her clit. Without even thinking about it, she spread her legs wider, her skirt moving almost up to her hips as Mr. DeWight fingered her mercilessly. So caught up in the moment and without any shame, Jen reached up and began massaging her breast through her dress while her boss masturbated her, her hips moving even faster with his motions. Suddenly she yelled out, her mind and body exploding as she was overwhelmed with her release, her body once again betraying her as she thrashed like a wanton whore in the seat of the limo with Mr. DeWight's hand between her legs. Jen continued to ride out her orgasm as wave after wave of pleasure spread through her body, Mr. DeWight's hand now pummeling in and out of her in a blur of speed. She was not sure how long she rode the crests of her release, but eventually she felt Mr. DeWight pull his hand away as her orgasm finally was controlled and eased back down. Slowly opening her eyes, she looked ahead noticing the partition had been down the entire time and the limo driver watching her get off. In shame she looked at his gaze in the rear view mirror, their eyes meeting as she saw him smile. Seeing the direction of her gaze, Mr. DeWight said, "You should never have a sexual experience without at least one other person enjoying the view," he chucked next to her. Completely abased, Jen shamefully tugged her skirt back down, thankful when the limousine stopped and Mr. DeWight announced they had arrived at the office. All Jen wanted to do was run away and hide in a hole somewhere, wishing this awful time in her life was over; however, such was not to be as Mr. DeWight exited the limo, reaching out his hand to help her out of the limo. Exiting the car she stumbled, her legs wobbly from her recent orgasm, blushing as Mr. DeWight looked knowingly at her as he caught her arm. "Come my queen, our empire awaits," he told her, escorting her through a large courtyard containing a marbled fountain with the words 'Divine Silk Attractions, Inc.' carved into the marble in gold lettering. Several people greeted Mr. DeWight by name as they made their way through the courtyard, the men giving Jen an appraising look. Although uncomfortable by their attention, the walk gave her time to compose her thoughts, still scrambled from all that had occurred today. Foremost in her mind was how she could have let these things happen to her—mentally repulsed at all that had transpired, while her body unarguably yearned for more. It was as if she were being controlled by two different people, her brain the rational one who knew society frowned upon such promiscuity and indecency in a woman; while her body willing and openly desired such lewdness and sluttiness. Lately it felt like her body was constantly aroused. Even frightened by Tim in the airplane restroom her body had become aroused and willing. Each step she took she was able to walk better, her body recuperating from her most recent orgasm, although her mind was still in a state of disarray. She was somewhat thankful Mr. DeWight kept his arm around her, his palm warm against her bare waist as he guided her towards the large mirrored glass doors of the building while her mind continued to be flooded by thoughts. Jen felt like she was in a dream, her feelings in a haze as the events of the morning flooded her head: being felt up by the TSA agents; Tim fucking her on the plane; the reporter fondling her; and then Mr. DeWight openly masturbating her in front of the limo driver on their way here. The images flashed in her mind like a jumbled perverted slideshow as she wondered in what alternative universe she had been thrown into, where men could do such things to a woman as if they were every day occurrences. Sure she had seen the bad side of men—nobody could work at a strip club for even one night and not know what the leers and open suggestions of the crowd meant. These were men who many had pledged their lives to be with a single woman, the rings on their finger openly visible, yet they still propositioned the girls at the club. She often joked with the other girls on how men were scum, and it was nothing new, as even in her History classes at school she had read about men succumbing to nothing but a pretty face and body. But such things were far and few in-between, as normal people did not behave in such fashion. Yet now it was as if all her ethics and morals were in reverse, her body no longer her own as she was shamelessly displayed, used sexually, and manipulated to satisfy all those lustful urges. She could not decide which was worse—the men having the temerity to treat and do such things to her or her allowing them to happen. Unbidden came the thoughts of her body's unabashed reaction, wondering for the umpteenth time what the hell was she doing and how things had progressed to this point. Some of the blame was not hers, and she accepted that fact. These men—particularly the FBI agents who had been intimate with her—knew of her engagement, knew she was already spoken for, and knew although she was a stripper, did not behave in such fashion. Even Mr. DeWight knew she was engaged, although not to whom. These men should have had the decency to not have done what they did—but then again they were men, and was beginning to understand all of them were pigs, so she took the blame, wondering how she could have allowed these things to befall her. Jen had always been sexual, but had held those feelings in check for many years. Other than stripping at the club to satisfy her innate exhibitionism—an environment where it was considered 'normal'—she had never allowed herself to become this overtly sexual. She once again recalled the time when Dan had been at college and she had succumbed to an impromptu threesome. She remembered how free she had felt, allowing her body and mind to drop all morals and relish in the moment. Her therapist had stated it was not normal, merely her mind's chemical imbalance trying to find a release, and since her therapy had pushed such thoughts from her mind, always staying true to Dan. Now she was thrown into a world of sex, drugs, and organized crime. A world where men treated women as property, who thought so little of sex and their use of women came as natural as breathing. And her body responded to such treatment, and for the first time since that long ago night, she was feeling free about her sexuality, while her mind continued to rebel against her actions. As abhorrent and twisted as Mr. DeWight, Tim, and even the FBI agents' treatment and use of her was, Jen could not dispute her body had responded as they wished, almost flourishing on their sex with her. She had no explanation for her body's promiscuity, knowing a multiple of factors were involved—whether it was drugs and alcohol, a relapse of her bi-polar disorder, her exhibitionistic tendencies manifesting in some bizarre fashion, or something completely different, her body's reaction was almost uncontrollable, obliterating her long-held morals and better judgment. She was in a moral dilemma in which she could not find a solution. And here she was with the epitome of female debasement, his arm wrapped around her like an accessory, a man who had no qualms displaying her body or using it for his own desires and furthering his business, a business built upon female exploitation. Her thoughts turned to the sick and twisted reality of her contract and involvement with the FBI, where ironically the more she gave in to this perverse world of adult entertainment the better her chances were of getting out—a depraved Catch-22. Oppose her contract and she would be morally pure, but bankrupt or worse as Mr. DeWight's history proved he did not take the answer of no very lightly. On the other hand, if she gave in and allowed her body to be debased, becoming a sexual victim, she had a chance out—if she could find enough evidence for the FBI—but at the cost of her own respect and decency. While these and other thoughts whirl-winded around in her head she once again weighed the costs and possibility of losing Dan. He was the anchor preventing her mind from blowing away. His hatred of Mr. DeWight overshadowed everything, and if she could help him find some peace against his rival it was worth it, even if it meant losing him. In her mind his retribution and ability to put down his rival preceded even her own happiness. She was so lost in her thoughts she did not noticed Mr. DeWight opening the heavy glass doors of the building and guiding her inside. It was not until the coolness of the air conditioned lobby enveloped her body that her attention was brought back to the here and now. And if the cold air rapidly chilling her bare skin had not brought her back, the round of applause suddenly erupting throughout the foyer as they stepped inside chased all other thoughts from her head. Jen looked around in surprise seeing a large crowd of people surrounding them and applauding as they smiled—not at Mr. DeWight, but at her! They were standing in a large marbled welcoming area with huge—at least thirty feet long—banners hanging around the walls. Jen stared in surprise seeing the banners containing pictures of her in various positions wrapped around a pole. At the top of all the banners was her stripper name, 'Diamond' in large gold letters with the company's name in silver at the bottom, and in between those, twenty-foot images of her on the pole! Jen counted at least a dozen different pictures and banners throughout the large opened area. The images had obviously been taken without her knowledge, and seeing herself in so many different outfits she realized they spanned at least several months of her working at the club. She noticed the background of each banner also complimented the outfit she was wearing in each picture—or in the case of two banners, not wearing. The two nude banners were tastefully done, taken at an angle to be 'legal' and even though topless, her arms were placed over her breasts in the teasing manner she usually danced. Taking in the shock of her own portrait banners surrounding the entire lobby, she looked around at the rest of the room observing it to be at least three stories tall, lined by both glass and marble—the only adornments being the banners of her. The removal of Mr. DeWight's hand from around her waist brought her attention back to their immediate surroundings as he made an exaggerated bow to her, speaking loudly to in the main area. "Ladies and Gentlemen of DSA, may I present Diamond, our new Divine Silk Attractions Spokesmodel," he announced, joining in the chorus of applause erupting throughout the lobby. Jen could only stand in wonder and embarrassment, clad in her small white outfit and on display before the crowd of DSA employees. After her previous morbid thoughts she wondered how people could be HAPPY she was there, willing to degrade her body for profit. How could they show such elated emotions towards Mr. DeWight—a murdering, corrupt, crime-lord—as if he were as pure as the pope! Jen realized there were two sides to the company. To the many employees such as those before her DSA was a legitimate adult entertainment business, legally employing entertainers for strip clubs and multimedia. These people were probably unaware of the seedier aspects of the business, the things she had learned about DSA and Mr. DeWight from Dan's report and the FBI. They did not know what happened behind closed doors; which made sense, she reasoned, not everybody could be as corrupted as Mr. DeWight. Already biased on the more corrupt side of the company, it was mind boggling for her to see how well-liked Mr. DeWight was, as well as everybody's happy welcome of her. Jen did not lose her desire to put Mr. DeWight behind bars and get out of her contract, but she began to realize there were innocent people whose jobs would be impacted by her actions. Many of these people were here of their own willingness—even many of the models—and this was their livelihood. It was a sobering thought. Not enough to sway her resolve in helping the FBI; however, she appreciated the need to make sure any evidence she found would make only the guilty pay. Previously she was ready to sink the entire company, but now that single-minded goal had changed, hoping to limit the collateral damage caused to the legitimate part of the company. She began to understand why the FBI had taken so long to take Mr. DeWight down, as they obviously did not want to harm any other people. After the applause died down Mr. DeWight guided her through the lobby—her spiked heels clinking loud and echoing throughout the busy foyer, while people greeted her, welcoming Diamond to DSA. Jen was both embarrassed and thrilled at the attention, her mind again at odds with how her body reacted to the scrutiny of everybody around her, her pulse speeding up in response to the more blatant leers she received from many of the men. Suddenly Jen blushed as comprehension flooded her mind. She realized these men were not looking at her as a man would look at an attractive woman on the street, possibly wondering what her personality was like or whether she would go out with them. Nor was it the looks she received dancing, selling the fantasy of a sexy and beautiful woman teasing a man for the evening. From their leers it was apparent many of these men HAD seen her naked—probably from the videos Agent Geiger had shown her—and they obviously wanted to see more. Seeing her in person, their thoughts were comparing what they had seen on their computers to the woman standing before them. These men were not imagining her as a perspective date or even an evening fantasy, but instead openly wanting to have sex with her, picturing her in the videos and thinking of her sucking and fucking them. These were the looks of men with full knowledge of her being a porn actress, not concerned with her saying no, in fact, she was being paid to say yes. The looks upon her breasts, her legs, as well as her ass and hips were of those not imagining what she would look like in a dress or doing things a normal, respectable woman such as their girlfriends or wives would do but of her performing sexual acts so dark and secret they would not even confess them to their significant others. Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05 To these men she was Diamond, a willing slut and porn actress who fucked for money. They knew nothing about Jennifer Simmons or why she was here—their only thoughts were she WAS here as well as WHY. From their behavior these men looked at her with the knowledge they DID have a chance with her. She suddenly realized their blatant ass-kissing to Mr. DeWight demonstrated they also knew she did not have a say in whether they could fuck her. The knowledge in their faces showed her they knew if Mr. DeWight gave them a nod that was all they would need to dominate her. Jen suddenly became conscious of her attire, particularly not wearing any underwear. She had often gone braless—and in fact had danced for years at the club topless, so was more comfortable with her chest on display. Even with her nipples sharply outlined by the thin fabric her years of dancing had accustomed her to looks at her chest. It was the lack of any panties—even a thong—which sobered her thoughts. She had no doubts the men knew there was only a thin piece of white material separating them from her naked body. She chuckled at the perverse thought of how even a skimpy thong would have made her feel more dressed than the outfit she was wearing. Her thoughts were both troubling and arousing as Mr. DeWight greeted and smiled at the men, stopping to introduce her to some of them as they waited by a bank of elevators. When the elevator doors opened she was startled to observe her and Mr. DeWight entering alone and none of the men following. She suddenly realized although the men were obviously ass-kissing Mr. DeWight, there was an obvious dominance play none of them wanted to get involved with by being in the same elevator as him, and Jen filed the knowledge away, understanding there may be legitimate aspects of the company, but even these men knew a predator when they were near him. Inside the elevator Mr. DeWight swiped a keycard and pressed the button to the 25th floor. The moment the elevator doors began closing Jen was suddenly startled as Mr. DeWight's hand slipped beneath her skirt, cupping her crotch from behind as his middle finger pressed against her still moistened slit. Jen let out a squeal of surprise, her face blushing as she heard the men laugh, their last sight of her being her body jerking forward and knowing what their boss had done. It was not until Mr. DeWight's hand moved away she admitted she would have stood there allowing him complete access to her bare crotch. The thought frightened her as she wondered how he had such control over her. Although he had groped her for the benefit of the men at the elevator, she was ashamed he had proven to the men what she had thought about earlier—she was here to be used and Mr. DeWight was the one in control. Attempting to calm her nerves, Jen looked at her reflection in the highly polished doors of the elevator, seeing what everybody else had seen—a long-haired brunette with long tanned legs in a short white outfit revealing her back, stomach, and waist, her large breasts barely contained within the tight white top. The doors were so reflective she could even see her nipples delineated through the fabric, the buds responding to both the cold air of the lobby and the men's previous stares upon her. Mr. DeWight had chosen this outfit for one purpose, to show her off. The man's voice in the confined space broke her reverie as she turned towards him. "Our offices are located on the top floor, so I'll take you there first to introduce you to your assistant and let you settle in. After that you'll have to go to HR and get all the legal paperwork and benefits shit filled out," he explained to her. "Starting tomorrow you will have a meeting with our PR rep on handling the media and such so you won't be caught unawares again like at the airport," he told her. "I also have several photo-shoots scheduled for you and such, but your assistant will fill you in on those details." Jen was completely out of place as she comprehended the corporate headquarters for DSA was an actual business, so the normal things which happened in all large businesses such as HR, paperwork, and so forth were a part of everyday life. She was no longer working for a less-than-shady strip club for hourly wages and no benefits, she was now part of a world-wide corporation. Regardless of whether the business dealt with porn, stocks, or managed grocery stores, some things were common to all businesses. That the company was an adult entertainment industry also involved in illegal activities was at odds with the 'normalcy' of corporate America surrounding her, and the knowledge of how her body would be treated within this very same business. Then her thoughts keyed in on what Mr. DeWight had said—'our offices' and 'her assistant.' The sudden touch of Mr. DeWight's hand back to her waist, his thumb slowly stroking her bare skin while the elevator rose was both possessive and soothing—she expected him to be touching her, which was more normal to her than being alone in the big city in a large corporate office. She was about to ask him what he had meant about the office and assistant when the elevator doors opened, revealing a plush wood and marble paneled reception area lined by gold and silver trim. A large oval-shaped receptionist area greeted them where an attractive elderly lady stood up. "Good morning Mr. DeWight...and I assume this is Diamond?" the woman asked with a welcoming smile. Before either Jen or Mr. DeWight could answer the woman turned and began walking down the hallway, waving for them to follow her as she and her boss shuffled to keep up. "The engagement calendar for next month is on your desk sir for your final approval," the woman was saying, "we need to go over the media and filming aspects. And Diamond," she said looking over her shoulder, "your assistant has arrived and is waiting in your office—we're headed there first. She will have your schedule as well for most of the year—or at least as much as we can plan for so early," she said with a warm smile, leading them down the long hallway. The woman was in her late forties, but that was only a guess as she had the athletic buxom figure of a girl in her mid-twenties—and she dressed the part as well. At first Jen thought the woman was wearing a tight grey dress, but as she got closer she realized it was a fine black and white leopard print, the dress hugging the woman's body like a second skin and showing off her voluptuous figure to full advantage. It was nothing an older woman would wear, instead being something typical from Jen's closet. Mr. DeWight introduced the elderly lady as Ms. Murphy, to which the woman laughed and told Jen to call her Elsie. Mr. DeWight explained Elsie had been his personal assistant since the company consisted of only a single strip club. "Elsie was one of the dancers there, going by the name Mercedes—though if you call her by that now she might misplace your paycheck," he laughed. "She was like a den mother to the girls there and became the very first DSA spokesmodel, more by default than any conscious effort on my part. She probably knows every dark secret about me," he laughed along with the attractive elderly lady. Jen's interest in Mr. DeWight and knowing what the FBI knew gave her pause, wondering what secrets the woman carried and if she would be able to pry anything from somebody who had been with the man for so long. She probably knew quite a bit about his underworld dealings, but also to remain with him this long, could hold a secret. Even as she pondered her double-life of stripper-turned-porn star and FBI informant, Jen admired the expensive trimmings of the hallway. Like everything else she had seen of the building, the hallway was extravagant, featuring deep green and white marble columns interspersed with dark varnished wood panels lined by gold and silver trim. Walking down the hallway—her and Elsie's high heels making a staccato rhythm which echoed down the hall—they passed several decorative wooden doors to other offices, reminding Jen more of a law firm's offices instead of those belonging to a porn business. The luxury of the building once again surprised her. Jen had imagined DSA being run out of warehouse, recalling the dilapidated building the FBI task force had their headquarters in. Eventually they reached the end of the hallway where two large frosted glass double-doors were placed. The company name 'Divine Silk Attractions' was engraved at the top above the doors; however, what caught her eyes was the pair of frosted female silhouettes on the doors. On the left door was an etched profile of a stripper leaning against a pole, one leg pulled up to the pole. The shaded image epitomized every man's dream with long legs, curvy athletic body and flat stomach, as well as perky breasts titled upwards with the prominent outlines of the stripper's nipples. The right door had a similar etched portrait of a long-haired dancer leaning forward towards the other silhouette, hands resting above her knees and her well-shaped ass jutting behind while her naked breasts hung beneath her body. Other than the trademark stripper shoes, both silhouettes were obviously naked. As Jen looked at the images she could barely see the office behind the doors. Her eyes once again focused on the top of the doors and in surprise noticed the gold lettering across the top beneath the company name reading 'Diamond, Vice President of Ecdysiast Services." It suddenly dawned on her this was her office! Before she could ask what the title after her name meant Elsie opened the double doors, revealing an extravagant waiting area decorated in white and black. The floor consisted of white and black marble tiles, with matching walls lined by white and black velvet striped wallpaper. The wallpaper reminded Jen of Mr. DeWight's office at the Satin Kitty. The center of the room was dominated by a large oval black desk where a beautiful brunette was sitting, who immediately stood up at their entrance. "Mr. DeWight! Miss Diamond!" she exclaimed, "It is good to finally meet you, I'm Velvet," she introduced herself to Jen, holding out her hand. The woman was a few years younger than Jen, in her early twenties and wearing a skin-tight black backless halter dress. As with most of the women Jen had noted working in the building, the woman's dress hugged her body like a second skin. The hem, which was cut as high as Jen's outfit, revealed long muscular legs which she instantly recognized as dancer's legs, guessing Velvet was probably a dancer for the company as well. Mr. DeWight confirmed her suspicions. "Velvet here is a dancer in our Administration Intern Program," Mr. DeWight explained. "We have a relationship with the local university where we offer eligible girls dancing in clubs and working towards their business degrees the chance at day-time jobs in the business. It gives them the chance to learn the ropes of the business world as well as receive internship credit from their college towards a degree. Basically secretary by day, stripper by night," he chuckled. As Jen shook the girl's hand Velvet said, "I was so excited to be assigned to you!" she said enthusiastically. "I have watched several of your routines on videos and would love to learn anything I can from you," she said eagerly. "I'm sure there will be plenty of time for the two of you to become more acquainted," Mr. DeWight said suggestively as he gave both Velvet and Jen a pointed look, grinning at them before leading Jen further into the office. Opening another set of double-doors, he looked over his shoulder and told the other woman, "Velvet, if you could let HR know Diamond is here and will be there once she is settled in? You will need to take her there once I'm done showing her around," he told the young woman as way of dismissal. The girl nodded enthusiastically behind them as Mr. DeWight guided Jen into the next room, his arm once again around her bare waist. Jen's attention on Mr. DeWight's hand upon her was forgotten as she looked around the office. If she had thought the hallway and such were opulent, she was in awe at the office—her office, she realized. The first thing she noticed was the entire back of the office consisting of a single glass window showing off the Los Angeles skyline. The view was spectacular even from her position as she then took in the rest of the office. To the immediate left corner was a dance stage complete with pole and mirrored walls—similar, although larger, than the stage Mr. DeWight had in his office at the Satin Kitty. Similar to it and the full stage renovated at the club, the floor was lined with hard padded rubber providing a firm grip for shoes—even if they became wet—as well as providing a slight cushioning in case of a fall from the pole or hard landing. The mirrored walls meeting at the corner allowed her to practice while still being able to watch her maneuvers at any angle. The opposite corner to their right was a small conference area containing a small, round, white-finished meeting table with four black leather executive chairs. She also imagined the chairs could serve to seat a small audience for the stage. All of these things were taken in at a glance as she looked further into the room, her attention drawn to the sides. On the left and right walls across from each other were life-sized gold statues of dancers exactly like the silhouettes on the door—one girl leaning against a pole on the right wall, the other dancer on the left bent forward. Unlike the images on the door these were complete—and anatomically correct—statues of the dancers. The entire office was carpeted by a thick white shag carpet, her heels sinking into the plush fabric. What took up most of the back half of the room was a large black executive desk, with matching black leather chairs placed in front of it. A computer monitor sat on the desk and off to the side, but that was not what caught Jen's eye and drew her attention away from the extravagant office. Set prominently in the dead center of the desk facing her was a black and gold nameplate showing 'Diamond, VP of Ecdysiast Services.' Jen looked at Mr. DeWight in astonishment as he asked, "How do you like your new office?" For once she was glad of Mr. DeWight's hand upon her body, his hand sliding subtly back and forth across her skin, as it gave her an anchor to reality. Jen's mind was in shock at his words, only this time it was not at any sexually innuendo or defilement, but at statement this opulent office was hers! "My office?" Jen said in a stunned voice. "Why do I have an office?" she asked dumbfounded. Mr. DeWight laughed openly, his hand squeezing her hip as he said, "My beautiful corporate sex idol. Did you not read the contract I had delivered to you?" he asked as she numbly nodded. He went on to explain how beyond her roles of dancing, modeling, and filming within the company, the DSA Spokesmodel position served as the head of all the other dancers and models within the company. "You are the Vice President of Ecdysiast Services," he told her, "the executive director of all the working girls for DSA—strippers, models, actresses, you name it—for the entire company. You are in charge of their schedules, hiring and firing, complaints—even yearly peer reviews," he said, grinning at her stunned expression. "Unlike how some companies operate letting the manager of the club dictate who works and when," he told her, "any DSA girl hired or fired ultimately rests upon your shoulders. You are the final decision maker on who works at what clubs, what songs should and should not be played at those clubs, and all other personnel issues, particularly when it comes to the dancers for our clubs," he told her with a grin. "Granted the local managers manage the clubs as a whole, but you are, to put it bluntly, the head stripper of all of them," he said to her, "and as you own stock in each club, it is in your vested interest to keep them well run," he smiled, "as you are a member of the Board of Directors for the company." "What?" Jen exclaimed in disbelief. Although her and Dan had read about her being the liaison between the corporate monstrosity of DSA and the dancers, she had not known exactly what her duties were other than stripping and—to her humiliation—being fucked on film. She had been more concerned with the more blatant abuses of her body and had not focused on the other ancillary sections of the contract, believing her position was more an honorific title than actually being in charge of anything, let alone ALL the girls dancing for DSA! "But I have no experience for management," she told him. Mr. DeWight smiled knowingly, "Yes, you do," he told her. "First, you are a dancer yourself, so you know what is best for the girls. Also, after talking to the girls at the Satin Kitty, you have been their 'leader' so-to-speak for years. They look up to you, so that shows you have the needed skills," he explained to her as she could only stare at him. "One of the reasons you will be touring from club to club is not just to advertise yourself across the country, but to meet all the girls, check out the clubs and how they operate, and then report back here. You will be the decision maker for the next era of DSA when it comes to the clubs and the girls dancing at them. All final hires are interviewed by you for any dancer positions, so in a sense," he told her, "you are shaping the future of the company," he said smiling to her surprise. She was overwhelmed, again thanking his hand upon her as she leaned into his hold for support as he continued. "Although I typically have a say when we buy a club and decide if the dancers should stay or not, new dancers are first screened by the local managers of the clubs, then brought to you for final endorsement," Mr. DeWight told her smiling. Nodding towards the elderly woman standing next to them, Mr. DeWight smiled as he said, "It is a process I learned from Elsie when we first began the business and she was technically our first DSA Spokesmodel," he told her as he reached out and wrapped his other arm around the elderly woman's waist familiarly. "I find it better for a woman to hire another woman to avoid cases where a manager may be seduced into hiring a dancer," he chuckled. Jen could not believe what was being asked of her. Once again she thought about her assumption being the DSA Spokesmodel only meant she would be stripping and forced to make porn movies, too worried and focused about being on display to anybody who paid to see her. She had never imagined she would be in a legitimate managerial position! She stood there in shock looking around the office, still not believing it was hers—or the duties she was expected to perform. It was frightening—in some aspects more frightening than being asked to be a porn actress. She knew she could dance, and being a porn actress was merely having sex while somebody filmed it; however, now she was being asked to do something it took some executives years to build up the skills requested of her, and she was suddenly daunted by her role. Her attention was drawn back to Mr. DeWight as his hand slid down her back, squeezing her ass cheek before continuing to speak. "Elsie and Velvet will help you get the hang of your other duties, but unfortunately I need to head out. I have an important meeting tonight with a close friend, one who may finally be working for the company soon like you," he told her happily. Jen's thoughts immediately turned to Dan, knowing who Mr. DeWight was talking about. Mr. DeWight made his goodbye telling her he would meet up with her later in the week when he flew back into town. "Friday we're having your official 'coming out' party at my house," he told her proudly. "You will need to come up with a dance routine, as it will be your public debut to announcing you as the new spokesmodel," he told her. "Even though word has already gotten out, this will be your official pronouncement, as well as the first peek of you by some of our investors," he grinned. "So plan something special," he said, winking at her before turning around and leaving the office with Elsie right behind him.