Up early Monday morning and all she could think about was her three o’clock appointment at City Lights. Unable to focus on her schoolwork, she went for a long walk and arrived back in her room around noon; her brain was spinning with questions. Would they like my body? Are my breasts too small? How good is my dancing? What will the other girls be like? Leaving her lunch uneaten she took a shower, dressed and headed off to Framingham.
She nervously entered the club at around ten to three and saw Frank at his usual perch by the bar. Big smile on his face, he let her know how happy he was to see her and that she did the right thing. He then took her back to the dressing room to meet Vivian, the dance manager. Viv, as she preferred to be called, was a buxom fortyish bleach-blonde who saw herself as the mother hen to an unruly brood of unhappy chicks. She warmly welcomed Sally saying, “Frank sure was right about you, honey, sit down.” Offering her a soft drink, she also introduced her to Tina and Angie, two of the other dancers. They were mid-twenties, attractive and, as Sally couldn’t help but notice, bosomy. Their reaction to her was noticeably cool.
Not sure what she had been told by Frank, Viv proceeded to fill Sally in on what she could expect at City Lights. “In a way,” she said, “Your dancing is irrelevant, they want to see you naked and the more they see of your pussy, the bigger your tips will be; so keep the teasing to a minimum. They also like to see you touching yourself, that’s usually good for a few extra bucks. As Frank may have said, ten percent of your stage tips go to Tommy, the DJ, he trusts you for an honest count. Lap dances are generally twenty dollars with ten going to City Lights. You can count on an average of ten bucks for a tip. If you allow touching, it’s more. Your choice. The backroom is fifty dollars for each use and whatever you can get beyond that is gravy.” She added, “You can make a ton but I somehow don’t think you’re here for the money. Most of the men who come here are kind of fucked up, especially the younger ones so avoid any contact outside this building. You’ll be offered plenty: money, trips, baubles, maybe even a new car, it all comes with a pretty steep price so be careful.”
Viv got up, went to her little office and came back with a small pile of clothes. “I have an idea that I think would work really well for you, gimme a look.” That was an instruction to undress. Pulling her sweater over her head and putting her jeans on a nearby chair, she then stood. Viv indicated for her to remove the rest and she complied, putting her bra and panties with her jeans. Viv was breathless, she hadn’t seen a young sensuous body like this in ages. Handing her the costume she said, “You’re perfect for what I have in mind, here put these on.” It was a short schoolgirl skirt, white blouse, Mary Janes with white socks and sexy underwear. Sally looked adorable; Tina and Angie were unimpressed.
Dancing commenced at five. Tonight, there were just a handful of customers. The outfit looked great and Viv had divided Sally’s hair into two ponytails. A brief discussion with Tom about the music and she was ready. Tom introduced her as Lolita. The seven or eight clients perked up when they saw this pretty young thing strut onto the stage.
Following Viv’s advice, she quickly shed her skirt and blouse. Moving across the stage, she paid attention to each seated customer. Turning her back towards the bar, she removed her bra and, caressing her breasts, she again acknowledged her audience. Her attention produced a fair number of tips. Shedding her panties, she was now ready for her coup de grâce.
On her haunches, in front of each man, she pulled their heads in for a closer look. That move was a big hit. Picking up her things and her money at the song’s end, she had one hundred ten dollars, not bad for just seven guys. Backstage, she was congratulated by Viv and icily ignored by the other dancers. Putting panties back on and picking out a loose-fitting top, she returned to the bar and personally thanked each of her admirers for their generosity. She was now ready to be a lap dance tease.
After several dances, she had the routine down pat. Shake those titties right in their face and, as Viv had mentioned, touch yourself. They liked that and tipped her generously. A few more stage dances, to a larger crowd, had her feeling much more comfortable and in control. It was amazing, the power she had over these men. She was sure they would kill for her if she asked.
Arriving home at two AM, she pulled the wad of bills out of her bag, four hundred thirty bucks, not all that bad. Over the next few weeks, she expanded her dance repertoire, adding to her Lolita theme as she also acquired a coterie of regulars. These were generous tippers, lap dance enthusiasts; they were also eager to get her into the back room, something she resisted. The thrill of exposing herself to an audience of admirers was fading though. In a way she’d accomplished what she set out to do; she’d done something that would shock, beyond belief of those who knew her, especially her family.
Schoolwork limited the time she could get to Framingham so she only managed to get about two days a week, usually Wednesday and Saturday. Saturday was usually good for about six hundred so she was making a thousand bucks for two night’s work, not bad but she now saw it as a job and she wanted to earn more. She began taking some of her regulars to the backroom for “private dances.” These involved her feigning masturbation and unavoidably led to more intimate contact. Had she crossed the Rubicon into prostitution? She thought not but she had begun to wade in when she allowed her devotees to fondle her breasts and feel the wetness between her legs. There was nothing pleasant about it, especially when they entered her with their fingers. She also decided to expand her dance role.
A favorite act at City Lights was the duet. It involved two dancers in an elaborate, choreographed, lesbian fantasy that would keep them on stage for as long as fifteen minutes. The more authentic it looked the more money would rain onto the stage. Viv was surprised when Sally expressed an interest in performing a duet.
Later that night, she sat down with Louise, also known as Chantelle, to discuss the possibility. The duet made Chantelle the star attraction at City Lights and it was something she took very seriously. They set a rehearsal for Saturday afternoon. Arriving early, Sally sat down with Chantelle and discussed the performance. It was something she had witnessed but didn’t really know what the level of authenticity was.
Chantelle leaned over, pulled Sally in and kissed her on the lips. “It’s that authentic”, she said. The rehearsal involved more kissing, fondling and various sex positions. It was Sally’s first intimate contact with a woman; she looked forward to their performance. They went on at ten.
They were a huge success; it took them five minutes to gather up all the money that had covered the stage. What was billed as an act turned into a transformative experience for Sally. Everything about it was new and incredibly sensual. The feel of her breasts, her wetness and when they were acting out sixty-nine, the hurried taste she had made her hungry for more. They were to become lovers.
The affair was intense. Sally would skip class and drive the thirty miles to Framingham to spend a couple of hours in bed tasting this beautiful woman. Their on-stage act became a sensation. Now working three nights a week, Sally had a shopping bag full of currency in her dorm room closet and was beginning to see an exit. It had become a hard job, the driving, getting home at three AM, putting up with unruly shitheels and the fact that the thrill was gone, except for Chantelle.
Then, one night, a regular who had requested a backroom show became unruly when she wouldn’t suck his cock. Fearful, she backed out of the room and called Henry the huge African American bouncer. Henry escorted the boisterous and drunk gentleman to the door and bid him adieu.
At closing time, Sally asked Henry to escort her to her car, something he regularly did for the girls, and there in the parking lot, was the trouble maker. While Henry talked to him, Sally got in her car and left. Within a few minutes, she sensed she was being followed and, sure enough, it looked to be him. Driving altogether too fast, she arrived in Boston and spent the next half-hour making every turn she could imagine until she no longer saw him in her mirror. Arriving at campus, she ran to her room.
She should have known something like this might happen; being a tease can have consequences. Up all night thinking about the whole situation, she decided she’d move on. She called Frank in the morning and told him she was no longer comfortable working there and before he could say anything to dissuade her, she hung up. Her relationship with Chantelle went from inferno to ember to ash.
The thing about these forays was that no one would ever know what she did. When the girls sit around drinking beer and talking about their boyfriends, she could fill them with stories of forbidden, wanton, scandalous and unrestrained sex but she, of course, never did. She never ever mentioned anything to anyone else about her sex life until she met Dr. Albers to whom now she’d tell everything.