Message-ID: <56789asstr$1193001001@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <4e5ba20d0710210539x34abb56by74e11f6512340a4a@mail.gmail.com> From: "La Femme Oranje" <lafemmeoranje@gmail.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2007 22:39:49 +1000 Subject: {ASSM} Richard's Club, Chapter Three (reluc-stripper, exhib, Mf) Lines: 387 Date: Sun, 21 Oct 2007 17:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2007/56789> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman ***** This is a work of fiction. All characters are of no age because they are not real people. This story is intended to be read and enjoyed by consenting adults only. Do not read this story if it is illegal for you to do so. The author will not be responsible for your actions. Do not allow anyone under the age of consent to read this story. Again, the author will not be responsible for your actions. Please do not treat this as a guide for real life; it is only a work of fiction. Do not read this story if descriptions of nudity, sex and sexual situations offend you. Do not repost this story in any way which requires payment for access and please do not remove the copyright notice when reposting this story. Thank you. ***** By La Femme Oranje (c) I like to hear your thoughts, ideas, complaints, and compliments! Send them to la femme oranje at g mail dot com (removing spaces, and replacing at with @ and dot with ., of course). I am always willing to entertain new suggestions as to what Michelle can do, she is a working girl of course, and works for your pleasure! ***** With a grunt and a moan, I pulled my cock out of the stripper's cunt and blew my load all over the slutstamp tattoo on her back. Like the well-trained girl that she was, she immediately got up onto her knees and began licking her girl juice off my cock and balls, without needing any instruction to do so. The only problem, as far as I could see, was that the obedient little slut in front of me wasn't that stunning new girl Michelle that I'd met for the first time the previous day. This girl, Courtney, certainly did have her charms, foremost amongst them the fact that she had absolutely no shame whatsoever, and was cynical enough not to resent what she had to do to get ahead in my club. Not that Michelle wouldn't eventually learn what she had to do, not to mention come to accept that she'd have to perform acts that just two days ago she would never have considered, in order to remain cashed up. The thought made me smile. "I did a good job then?" said Courtney as she looked up at me, her warm wet tongue rubbing over my deflating cock as she eagerly cleaned her slime off my shaven ball sack. Sometimes, I considered letting my pubes grow out again to add to the revulsion and humiliation factor for my less experienced girls, but when a little cock sucking queen like Courtney went to town on my shaven cock, such thoughts were banished from my head. "No, no" I said as I idly ran my hand through her short, dark hair, "I was thinking about that new girl that came in for an audition yesterday. Did you see her?" "Hah!" said Courtney, a look of mock disappointment crossing her face, "The prissy little redhead bitch? Yeah, I saw her alright. Trust you to be thinking about some other bitch while you're fucking me from behind!" I looked down at Courtney and grinned. "Why would I think like that? You're right, she is a prissy bitch at the moment, she's not as depraved and slutty as you are." "I know you like breaking them in. I seem to remember you taking a lot of pleasure doing it to me." "That was different, Courtney dear. I didn't need to break you in, you were already broken in the first time you walked through that door." She smiled and licked her lips, giving my now flaccid cock a last little kiss before she stood up. "Maybe, maybe I was." She turned around, her naked form on full display as she went over to my desk to get some tissues. "No", I instructed her, "I want you to get down onto the floor now, no cleanup. You know the punters like seeing one of the girls fresh after a session." She grinned at me and left my office, the thick ropey strings of my cum clearly visible as they ran down her back and into her butt crack. I got back to my paperwork, which as far as I could see, was the only drawback of owning and managing a strip club, especially one with as many side operations as mine had. Still, the thought of what I was going to do with Michelle when she got to the club wasn't far from my mind. I was going to have to let her go out on the stage tonight; while I was definitely enjoying corrupting her, I couldn't afford to keep paying her exorbitant amounts of money to show me that nubile little body of hers unless she brought some business through the front doors. I was confident that she'd bring in a lot of business. Half an hour later, I was distracted by my paperwork by a soft knocking at my door. Looking up, I saw that it was Michelle, looking as apprehensive and anxious as ever. "Hi, doll," I said. She walked in quietly, almost tiptoeing. Maybe she thought that the sounds of her footsteps would attract a legion of horny perverts. Hell, if they could see her, they probably would be attracted. She was still wearing the same outfit that she always came in, opaque black stockings, chunky black leather Mary Janes, a blue tartan skirt, and a long-sleeved black top that was just tight enough to show off her tits. The outfit reminded me of some of the girls that I used to chase while I was still young and wasting my time with musician chicks. "Hi, Richard," she said quietly. Rather than prompt her, I just leered at her, blatantly undressing her with my eyes, waiting for her to pipe up again. "I ... you said that you'd have some work with me ... if I came here ... again ..." I continued to leer at her for a moment, just enough to get her uncomfortable. After all, I had already invested a few hundred dollars into corrupting the girl, so I figured that I was entitled to have a bit of cheap fun. "That's right," I said, "I think it's about time that we put you onto the floor, you've got to start bringing in some money." "The ... floor?" "Well, yes. As you might have noticed, this is a strip joint, and there's not much money to be made from paying some slut to get down on her knees." Her face recoiled as I used the word 'slut', she seemed to find it more objectionable than all of the other humiliations that I had piled upon her. "Now, are you interested in making some money, or are you just going to waste my time?" She looked down at her feet for a second, before nodding her head. "I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to waste you time," she mumbled quietly. "Good," I said firmly, before taking on a more gentle tone, "Now, why don't we go and get you changed into something that the punters will like?" I gestured for her to start walking back down the hallway, and she paused outside the room where she'd gotten changed the last couple of times. I shook my head. "No," I said, "Not in there, tonight you're getting changed with the other girls. We can't have them thinking that you're better than them," Michelle looked very unhappy at that, but didn't say anything. At least undressing in front of a half dozen strippers would be less embarrassing than pole dancing in front of dozens of boozed-up perverts. An idea which prompted a new line of thinking. "Michelle," I asked, "How many women have you been with?" Her face screwed up in an expression of distaste and horror. "Women?" "I guess that's a 'no' then?" "Yes, I mean, no, I ... I've never been with a woman, no," I nodded and smiled softly. "You're not going to make me do anything like that, are you?" she asked, timidly. I laughed, as we arrived at the door to the general changing room. "Michelle, I am never going to make you do anything against your will. Everything that you do in this place you will do because you have chosen to do it. Give it long enough, and you'll stop doing it for the money, and start doing it because you love it, and you can't get enough." The look of doubt on her face seemed to indicate that she very much doubted that she'd ever be into taking her clothes off for strangers just for the love of it. I pushed the door to the change room opened, and went inside with Michelle. The five or so girls inside all stopped talking and turned to look at us as we entered, eager to get a closer look at the boss's freshest new piece of meat. One of the girls was Courtney, just back from a session out on the stage, and I could see the mess I'd made on her back still there, starting to whiten and crust up. "Okay everyone," I said, addressing the room, "This is Michelle; she's doing her first show tonight. I want you all to take care of her, and I hope that you all help her out if she needs it." As I gave my little speech, I could see a few of the girls grinning and leering, doubtlessly they were already planning a little welcome of their own for her. I pulled her over into a corner, and eventually the girls stopped looking and returned to their chatting and dressing, except for Courtney who kept looking our way and smiling evilly. Ignoring her for the moment, I got to looking for something that Michelle could wear. "Now," I started, "I know you were a bit embarrassed when you had to go completely without anything underneath your shorts, so would you like to wear some underwear?" Michelle nodded briskly, obviously warming to the idea of having something on underneath whatever I picked out for her, even if she was going to have to pull it off sooner rather than later anyway. I pulled out a tiny little G-string and handed it to her. Michelle looked at the offered underwear with disdain and disgust. "Fine," I said, sensing her mood, "Either wear it, or don't. It doesn't matter to me, it's not my body that's going to be on display out there." She looked gloomily at the tiny black loop of fabric for a second before scooping it out of my hand, and slipped it onto her legs. The G-string was even smaller than I had originally thought it was, and as she pulled it up over her hips, the band at the front slipped tight into her beautiful shaven slit. She looked down disapprovingly at the camel toe that formed around the shiny black material, but thought better of saying anything. Next, I handed her a short, black vinyl skirt. Short is a bit of a misnomer here, it was so short that she didn't even have to bend over to reveal the bottom of her arse-cheeks. She slid it up over her hips, the vinyl flaring out pleasingly over her long, smooth thighs. I briefly considered sending her out in just what she was wearing, but decided against it. If my experience with dealing with new girls taught me anything, it was that she'd rush through her set as fast as she could, and with only the skirt and the G-string, she'd be down to nothing after just one song. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to do three songs, and spending two whole songs on the stage naked probably wouldn't be too good for the girl's nerves. Looking through the collection, I eventually picked out a very flimsy black latex top. It was in reality nothing more than a thin strip that would wrap around her torso, with another strap that was designed to twist up into an X over her chest, covering her ample breasts behind a thin band of shiny black material. She sulkily took it off of me when offered, and tried to pull it on over her head. After thirty seconds of fiddling with the top strap, it was obvious that she wasn't getting the hang of it. "Here, let me," I offered, moving around behind her and taking hold of the top strap. She flinched a little bit, but let me pull the strap up and over her head, twisting it around into an X to keep it tight before I brought the loop back down over her head. She shifted around a bit uncomfortably as the tight latex rubbed against her skin. Normally, the girls rub lube or powder on their skin before wearing the tight latex outfits, but I hadn't bothered to tell Michelle that. In a few minutes, that was going to itch so much that taking it off in front of a room full of boozed up perverts was going to feel like sweet relief. I smiled. Next for some footwear. I was a firm believer in all of my girls wearing stripper heels, and Michelle was to be no exception. As I fetched a pair of rather unassuming transparent four inch heels from the shelf, I allowed myself to feel a flash of anticipation for seeing the inexperienced girl totter around on heels that were much higher than what she was used to. "Now," I said, adopting my most non-threatening tone, "There will be three songs played. By the end of the third song, you must be completely naked, understand? And unless you are having heart failure, you're not to come off before that, ok?" She nodded her assent to me. If I'd had more time, I would have had one of the other girls apply some makeup to her, but I didn't quite trust them yet. The typical state of affairs at the club was for the girls to eat a new girl alive before integrating her into their pecking order. I wanted Michelle as fresh as possible for this show. "Just remember the practice we had yesterday," I said supportively as I took her to the edge of the stage, "I'll go on and introduce you, come on when I say your name, alright?" She nodded again as I walked out onto the stage. The dazzling glare of the spotlight from the second story swept over me, as the crowd quietened down. I took a good look at them before I started; the club was about two thirds full, which wasn't a bad pull at this time of the night. They were in for a treat. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" I bellowed, "Welcome to my club. We have a rare treat for you tonight, a fresh girl just in for you!" The crowd clapped and cheered enthusiastically. "Her name is Michelle, and she's just itching to show you all what she's got!" More applause. "Come on," I gestured towards her, and she slowly walked onto the stage, blushing so hard that her face was nearly beetroot red. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, and several lewd suggestions were shouted towards the stage. "Now now," I said into the microphone, smiling amicably, "None of that gentlemen. At least, not for another two weeks!" A further roar of laughter went up from the audience. I turned to her, and gave her a quick pat on the arse. "Now, Michelle, show 'em what you've got!" The mood lighting in the nightclub dimmed, and the DJ started playing some of the big-beat dance music shit that the punters were so fond of. I scurried back offstage in order to watch, because after all, nobody wants to see a club host, no matter how amiable, while they watch a girl take her clothes off. She started slowly, shaking her hips clumsily to the beat as she walked down to the centre of the stage to the pole. Thirty seconds later, when she finally made it, she grabbed it and did a twirl, exposing her G-string to the audience as her skirt flared up. There was some light applause at that, but most of the punters were keeping their applause for later. As the first song was beginning to reach its climax, she finally stopped messing around with the twirls and shaking, and tried to lift the X-strap up off of her tits. They were pulled tight, her tits were pushing hard against them as it was trying to burst out. After a few inelegant tugs, she finally managed to get the strap over her head, leaving it to fall down and expose her breasts to every man in the room. I looked away from her and to the audience for a moment, and as I had hoped, they were rapt. The newly topless Michelle was busy divesting herself of the latex top, and was heading back to the pole. Almost as if in slow motion, she put her foot in that heel down wrong, and fell over onto the filthy floor of the stage. Instinctively, I moved out onto the stage to pick her up, but she quickly sat up again, flashing her G-string to everyone in front of her, and pulled herself up using the pole. The crowd was quite obviously enjoying it, they knew that they were watching very fresh meat, and more innocent and uncorrupted meat than they were used to. As the second song began, she started playing with her skirt, moving her hands to the waistband again and again before bringing them back up to hold onto the pole with. I was too far away to tell if she didn't want to take it off, or if she was just being coy, but it seemed to rile up the crowd. As the second song drew to a close, she finally dropped the skirt down over her butt, letting it slip to the floor so that she was standing there in only her G-string and heels. The third song began much as the second did, with Michelle twirling around on the pole and occasionally making moves to remove the G-string before backing out at the last minute. Finally, she stepped away from the pole, turned her back to the audience, bent over, and pulled the tiny strip of fabric off over her perfect, smooth butt. Slowly, and without any pretence of dancing, she pulled it down her long, perfect legs, until it was on the floor. From my vantage point, it was clear that her face was red with embarrassment and humiliation. Now completely nude, except for her high heels, she walked slowly back to the pole and twirled around it a couple of times, lifting one of her knees to give the punters a nice quick glimpse of her shaved slit. It was obvious that she was trying to hide her shame and protect her dignity, which was alright with me for now. It would only get the punters wanting to see more, and they would get that opportunity soon enough. The third song finished, and Michelle stood there, stunned for a minute, before giving an awkward bow and hurrying off the stage as fast as she could, almost tripping over again in her haste. The crowd clapped and applauded, obviously happy with what they had seen. Obviously considering being naked in front of me to be more desirable than being naked in front of the club, she kicked the heels off as fast as she could. "Oh, god," she stammered, "Falling over, oh god, that was so humiliating." "Don't worry," I smiled back at her, "Listen to the crowd, they obviously enjoyed themselves!" She turned around and blushed a little, before turning back to me, suddenly realising that she was naked, and covering herself up with her arms. That didn't worry me much, I'd already seen everything I needed to. I pulled out my wallet, peeled a few bills out of the wad of cash that I had in there, and handed them to her. She gingerly took the money, then looked around, wondering what to do next. "Go upstairs and get dressed," I suggested, "Otherwise you'll catch a chill. Same time tomorrow night?" She nodded slowly, before heading upstairs in the nude. <1st attachment begin> <HTML removed pursuant to http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/erotica/assm/faq.html#policy> <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>| | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> | |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}| +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+