Strippers’ Seduction -- Ladies’ Night
-- by lightswitch  ©  July 2007

(FF, lesbian), bi, MMM+/F, reluc, (interr, ir, interracial), 1st
time, bf, wf, black female, white female, asian female

=================

“Let’s do it!” Jan urged. “It’ll be an adventure!”

Cindy and I looked dubiously at our brunette friend.  These two
had been my best friends since high school, more than five years
ago. We had all stayed in the city and still hung out together.

I looked again at the flyer, stapled to a telephone pole, that
had sparked Jan’s enthusiasm: “Bi? Bi-Curious?  Tuesday is
Ladies’ Night at The Platinum Club!”

Cindy looked shaken. “Jan! Are you serious?!” she protested.

I nodded. “She’s right, Jan,” I agreed. “For one thing, none of
us are ‘bi.’”  Jan reddened a bit, at this. It suddenly came to
me that there might be a … reason … for Jan’s enthusiasm? I could
be so dumb.

“None of us are bi … are we?” I asked, speaking to both my
friends, but looking at Jan.

Jan flushed and vigorously shook her head, flipping a dark bang
out of her eyes. “Of course not!” she hurriedly assured us. “It’s
just that it could be … cool! An adventure! Something most people
would never do! C’mon! Don’t you want to be daring?!”

I was adamant. “No way!” I told her. “I have no interest in
paying to see other women strip.”

Jan looked saddened, but was persistent. “But you won’t have to!”
she argued. “It’s Ladies’ Night! No cover, so you don’t have to
pay anything … unless you want to.”  I shook my head, again. “No
way,” I told her.

I saw her exchange a look with Cindy.

“Fine, Jan said. “Cindy and I are going. If you want to join us,
be at the front door of the club by 9.”  With that, she turned on
one heel and walked away.

I was dumbfounded. “What the hell do you think *that* was about?”
I asked, turning to Cindy. Cindy was a pretty blonde who didn’t
have much assertiveness.  She usually ended up doing whatever Jan
or I pressed for. I was surprised to see that Cindy’s cheeks were
flushed and she was breathing a bit heavily.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she demurred. “Maybe Jan is right. Maybe it
would be an adventure?”

I was shocked. “Cindy!” I said. “You’re kidding, right? I thought
you were against the whole idea.”

Cindy was blushing and wouldn’t look me in the eyes. “I … I have
to tell you something,” she finally admitted. I arched a
quizzical eyebrow, but remained silent, waiting for her to go on.
 She seemed reluctant, but finally continued.

“Jan … she told me, last week, that she was starting to have …
feelings,” she said, haltingly.

“Feelings?” I asked.

Cindy nodded. “She said that found that she was becoming …
curious …”

The puzzle was starting to make sense. “So,” I said. “Jan *is*
bi-curious! She’s just too embarrassed to admit it.” I stopped.
That wasn’t true … Jan *had* admitted it.  Just not to me.

“Cindy,” I asked, “why didn’t Jan tell *me*?  She told *you*, but
she didn’t feel comfortable telling me?” I felt a bit hurt that
one of my best friends hadn’t felt she could confide in me. Cindy
shuffled her feet, uneasily.

“Well,” she stammered, “it’s … it’s because she likes you.”

I was not mollified. “I like her, too,” I said, “but she should
have known I wouldn’t judge her. She should have …”

Realization hit.

Jan liked me.

Jan *liked* me.

“Oh, God!” I whispered, leaning against the wall. “You mean …?”

Cindy nodded. “Jan is attracted to you.”  Cindy paused. “Have
*you* ever been … curious?”

My mind was spinning. This situation was so … complicated. “No,”
I protested, “I’m not gay!  I’ve never even thought of being with
another woman!”

I looked at closely at Cindy.  Why had she asked me that? “What
about you?” I asked. “Have you ever been … curious?”

Cindy shook her head in denial, but it seemed a weak gesture.

I gave her a hard look.

“Cindy!?” I warned.

The poor girl looked as if she wanted to cry. “Oh, OK,” she
whimpered. “Jan tried to seduce me about five days ago.  She
fondled my breasts and had her hand down my pants, but, I
couldn’t go through with it.”  Tears of shame welled up in her
eyes.

But there was something else in her expression … something like …
repressed desire?

“Did you …” I didn’t know how to ask it. Or even if I should.
“Did you like it?” I asked, in a hushed whisper.

Cindy averted her eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I … I
don’t know,” she finally admitted. “It felt good, but … I knew it
was wrong.”

I decided not to press.

“So,” I said, changing the subject, “are you really going to the
club, tonight?”

Cindy looked torn. “I … I don’t know,” she whispered.

* * * * * * *

For the rest of the afternoon, I thought about what Cindy had
told me. One of my best friends … bi, at best … probably a
lesbian in denial. How did I feel about that? It was easy to be
tolerant and accepting when it is someone you don’t know. But
when it is a friend you’ve known for years?  It probably wouldn’t
have been a big issue, except …

Except she “liked” me.

I didn’t know how to react to that. Worse, every time I thought
about it, my pussy tingled. I knew *I* wasn’t a lesbian … or even
bi.

Was I?

Of course not!

But then … why did my breathing get faster and why did I tingle
whenever I thought about Jan desiring me?

* * * * * *

Nine p.m. found me turning the corner and walking towards the
Platinum Club. I could see a blonde woman standing on the
sidewalk, in front of the club.

Cindy.

She was already there and waiting.

Cindy had said she wasn’t bi-curious, either …

I found myself wondering if Cindy “tingled” when she thought
about her aborted tryst with Jan.

As it turned out, Jan was the last to arrive.

“You came!” she squealed, grabbing us both in a big hug. I found
myself suddenly very conscious of being squeezed against her
chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, trying to brush off any implications.
“Well, we couldn’t very well have you off adventuring by
yourself, could we!”  Jan squeezed us again.

“You guys are the best!” she said, hooking us each by an arm and
leading us inside.

I’d never been in a place like the Platinum Club, before. It was
cleaner than I expected and had surprisingly nice furniture.  We
found three chairs – suede, but armless, arranged in a
semi-circle, right up against the stage. The stage was higher
than I had expected – coming up a just over waist-high. Perhaps
to keep ardent men from becoming too enthusiastic and jumping up
on the platform?

I was also surprised to see that, while the place wasn’t anywhere
near crowded, there were other people assembled here -- all of
them male.

“I thought you said this was ‘Ladies’ Night’!” I hissed, grabbing
Jan by an arm. “What are all these guys doing here?”

Jan laughed. “It *is* Ladies’ Night, silly! But that just means
‘Women get in free.’ Men are still welcome, but they have to
pay.”

I calmed a little and released her arm.

“Relax!” she chuckled, winking. “Maybe you’ll meet a guy!”

I sneered. “Oh right! And what kind of a catch would I land? A
guy who frequents strip clubs?  Puh-leez!”

Jan giggled. “*You’re* here,” she pointed out. I laughed and
conceded her point.

We took our seats – Jan in the middle, Cindy to her left, and me
to her right.

There was a woman already on stage. She was spinning lazily on a
pole, set up in the middle of the dais, her bronze skin
glistening under the spotlights.  Judging from her looks, I’d
have guessed she might be Brazilian. She was almost nude, and
might as well have been, since the only coverings she had were
two tiny round cones that were somehow kept in place over the
nipples on a truly magnificent set of breasts, and a tiny thong
that did little to cover her groin and less to cover her ass.
Even as I watched, the pasties came off. And then the thong.

She really was a striking woman.

I stopped myself, quickly. What was I thinking?!?

Several women were strolling among the audience, occasionally
stopping to slowly strip off their already skimpy clothing at a
table of men.  Must be dancers, I thought.

“Let’s buy a table dance!” Jan announced, suddenly. She grabbed a
ten from her purse and waved it in the air. “Over here,” she
called. “We want a dance.”

I could have died from embarrassment. Across from me, I could see
Cindy blushing furiously, as well.

A statuesque black woman saw Jan’s frantic waving and strolled
over to our table.

“I’m Jasmine,” she announced. “Would you like a dance?”  Jan
nodded, enthusiastically, and relinquished the money.  Cindy and
I shifted uneasily in our seats.

Jasmine was tall and shapely. She began swaying gently to the
soft music coming over the club speakers.  Large, full breasts
threatened to spill out from a too-tight, midriff-baring, yellow
blouse. Her long, ebony legs stretched from shiny, calf-high,
bright-yellow boots to her impossibly short, black, pleated skirt
that barely covered her pastel-yellow panties.

Jasmine positioned herself in front of Jan and began undulating
sensually. I guess whoever paid the money got the prime viewing.
But Cindy and I were still getting an eyeful, from where we sat.

The beautiful black woman slowly began unbuttoning her blouse,
finally revealing a large pair of breasts stuffed into a
too-small, pastel-yellow bra.  She swayed hypnotically and Jan
seemed mesmerized, her eyes glued to the strippers large, full,
deep-brown mounds of flesh.

Still rocking gently back and forth, Jasmine reached down and
unhooked the clasp of her skirt. Using one hand. she began
unzipping the mini-skirt in a journey that seemed to go on
forever. Finally, completely unzipped, the skirt dropped on its
own, around her ankles, where she deftly stepped out of them, and
one step closer towards our entranced brunette friend.

Reaching back with one hand, the stripper adroitly unclasped her
bra, which almost sprang off her body, as her massive breasts
were freed.  I had to admit, she did have amazing breasts – they
were large and full, tipped by hard, dark nipples that contrasted
with the deep chocolate of her skin. Her deep dark aureoles were
huge, probably close to three inches across!

Aware that I was staring, I broke my gaze, trying desperately to
look anywhere but at the hot stripper that was working my friend
into a heated daze. I made brief eye contact with the shapely
Brazilian on stage – she was smiling and blew me a kiss.

I jerked my gaze back to Cindy. That would be safe! I was shocked
to see Cindy’s eyes riveted on Jasmine. The blonde’s face was
deeply flushed and her mouth gaped open.  There was no doubt that
she was very turned on.

In spite of myself, I found my my gaze slowly creeping back to
Jasmine. The shapely Negress was completely nude now and had
stepped so close to Jan that her hard, dark nipples were almost
grazing Jan’s lips with every slow, arcing swing of her torso.

For Jan’s part – she was almost completely gone. Part of her
seemed to be struggling to resist the stripper’s erotic
influence. The white girl’s face was flushed and her lips parted
– an expression of repressed lust plain to see.

Jasmine smiled and slowly climbed on top of the mesmerized
brunette, straddling her as she sat in the armless chair.  The
stripper took hold of one large chocolate breasts and cupped
Jan’s chin with the other. Slowly, she guided the white girl’s
slack lips to the proffered large, stiff nipple. Jan tried to
resist, twisting her head, but Jasmine’s grasp on her chin turned
her back. Slowly, Jan’s lips parted and Jasmine pushed the thick,
stiff nipple into the white girl’s mouth.

I was shocked. But less shocked than when the stripper, still
straddling her conquest, turned to look directly at me.

“I love Ladies’ Night,” she purred, smiling wickedly. “It’s the
one night when we don’t have to play at being submissive boy
toys. Sometimes … we find some we want to keep.”

My surprise was interrupted as a stunning Asian woman, dressed
the way Jasmine had been, but in red, glided up to stand in front
of Cindy.

“I’m Kim,” the comely Asian stripper smiled at Cindy. “Would you
like a dance?” Cindy could only look at her, stupidly, working
her mouth but unable to speak after seeing the black stripper’s
seduction of Jan.

“I’ll take that as a ‘Yes,’” Kim purred, starting to slowly sway
in front of my poor, overwhelmed blonde friend.

Meanwhile, Jasmine had grabbed a fistful of brunette hair and
pulled Jan’s head back, so that the white girl’s head was forced
back over the top of the chair.  Still straddling her conquest,
the dusky stripper clamped her mouth over Jan’s in a deep,
sensual kiss.  Jan’s eyes were half-closed and almost rolling
back up into her head, but I could sense that the black woman’s
tongue was probing deeply into the brunette’s helpless mouth. 
Jan moaned softly and abandoned all pretense of resistance,
allowing her dark seductress to have her way.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a throng of men,
gathering in a circle around us, to watch.

Another moan, this time from Cindy, brought my attention away
from Jan’s submission.  The hot Asian woman was now completely
nude and had straddled the dazed Cindy, burying the white girl’s
face deeply between the stripper’s ample breasts.  The blonde’s
hands were limp, hanging lifelessly at her sides and I briefly
wondered if she might have passed out, smothered in the Asian
stripper’s cleavage.

Jasmine must have decided it was time to go to the next level –
she dismounted and pulled the pliant brunette from her chair. 
Jan’s legs were too shaky to hold her and she collapsed to the
carpet.  Evidently, this was what the stripper wanted, as she
used her foot to nudge the white girl onto her back.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Jasmine purred to me. “Your turn is coming.”
With that, she straddled the prone brunette’s head and sat on her
face. Soon, the black stripper was moaning blissfully.  “Nobody
eats pussy like a white girl,” she murmured, huskily.

I looked over to Cindy. Even though the Asian stripper had her
back to me, I could see my blonde friend was on her knees, in
front of the stripper. Kim had a firm grip on Cindy, gripping two
handfuls of blonde hair to force the white girl’s head into the
proper position.  Judging by the way the Asian’s ass was slowly
pumping back and forth, I assumed that Cindy’s face was pressed
into Kim’s pussy and the white girl was busy tongue-servicing
her.

“Hi.” The voice from my left was so close, it startled me. I spun
to see an attractive Hispanic woman, in a green version of
Jasmine’s and Kim’s original uniforms. “I’m Isabella,” she said,
gazing meaningfully into my eyes. ”Would you like a dance?”

I stood up quickly, intent not to fall into the same seduction
that had snared Jan and Cindy.  I was *not* a lesbian, damn it!

But my legs were trembling so badly that I couldn’t walk far. I
grabbed the edge of the stage dais to steady myself. My pussy was
throbbing, although I was in deep denial.  Part of me wanted to
let Isabella have her way with me … to use me as her partners had
used my friends.  But I wasn’t ready to admit to being bi. I had
to resist!

“Would you like a dance,” Isabella repeated, seductively.

“Yes,” I stammered, falling heavily against the stage.

Had I just said Yes?

“I meant ‘No!’”  I tried to correct myself.

My head was spinning and I felt dizzy.  Jasmine was still sitting
on Jan’s face, pinning the white girl’s wrists to the carpeted
floor – although I was certain that wasn’t necessary.  Jan was
way past any attempts to struggle. The black stripper’s breathing
was ragged and she was grinding herself on the brunette’s
helpless face.  Jasmine was obviously getting close to climax.

Farther to the right, I could see from this vantage point that I
had been right: Cindy was on her knees, with her face buried
between the Asian stripper’s legs, as Kim stood majestically in
front of her thoroughly seduced prey. Kim widened her stance a
bit and sighed as the blonde eagerly burrowed further into the
Asian’s damp muskiness.

So much for “not being sure about her feelings regarding women,”
I thought. If Cindy wasn’t bi before, she certainly was now – if
not an outright lesbian.

The stripper who had approached me, gave a disappointed look.
“Are you sure?” she asked, biting a pouty lower lip. “No dance?”
I had tried to edge away, but was stopped by the edge of the dais
against the small of my back.

“No,” I croaked, shaking my head weakly. “I’m sure. No dance.”

A voice came from behind and above. “This one doesn’t need a
dance,” the voice asserted. It was strong, melodious. Feminine.
“This one is already burning to serve.”

Before I could turn, I felt a hand grab me by the hair and pull
my head back. I fell backwards, forced to jump up a bit over the
stage to try and relieve the pain.  My ass hit the edge of the
stage and I was pulled onto my back, legs and ass still dangling
over the edge.

Somewhat dazed, staring upwards, my eyes finally focused. I saw
the face of the beautiful Brazilian dancer who had been on stage.
She must have been behind me, squatted down close, and pulled me
on stage by my hair.

“This one is mine,” she murmured. Adroitly, she moved forward,
straddling my head and pinning my wrists to the stage floor with
her legs.

“No!” I shouted, panicked. I could see her sex, moist and
glistening, above me – her vulva swollen with lust.  Her full,
round ass was olive-toned and perfectly proportioned.  I couldn’t
let this happen! I couldn’t let this woman take me!  If she did …
I’d cross a threshold. I’d become her dominated plaything … a
white fuck-toy for her pleasure.

But my body ached with desire and need. Seeing the domination of
my friends … and agonizing over the dangers of my situation …
were exciting me!

I … I wanted this.

I gave in to my consuming lust and desire.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I want this.”

A smile crossed her beautiful, brown features and she lowered
herself to sit on my face.  My world contracted – my entire
universe became this beautiful Brazilian stripper’s cunt.

Her musk filled my head and her wetness enveloped my face. I
couldn’t breathe and I didn’t want to. I lapped greedily,
relishing the sensuous taste of her juices.  She slowly ground
herself against me, rubbing my face raw with her sodden pussy. I
gave up any thought of action and just laid back, surrendering to
her dominant lust.

Lights danced before my eyes from lack of air and I passed in and
out of consciousness, smothered under her insatiable pussy. I
reveled in the domination of getting face-fucked.

Unseen hands tugged at my slacks and blouse, quickly stripping me
naked as I lay, pinned, under the Brazilian stripper. My legs and
now-bare ass still hung over the edge of the stage. I could feel
many strange hands grab and support me. Strong hands spread my
legs, though I feebly tried to keep them closed.

Then, I felt something enter me.

I was getting fucked. Someone had slid his cock into me and was
pumping at an increasingly frenzied pace. Evidently, this little
show had pushed one of the men in the audience over the edge. I
tried to stop him, but my protests were lost in the beautiful
Brazilian’s smothering pussy.  Helpless, I could do nothing to
stop the stranger from furiously fucking me and finally shooting
his load inside me.

But my ordeal wasn’t over. After coming inside me and sliding
out, I felt the invading cock replaced by another. In my mind, I
imagined the men in the club lining up to take their turn at the
chick getting face-fucked by the pole dancer. I lost count of how
many men took me. And after the third, I didn’t care – their
fucking merely added to my mounting waves of pleasure. I *wanted*
them to fuck me. I wanted every damn man in the club to fuck me.
I wanted them to go out and pull men off the street to fuck me. 
With my pussy getting pounded by a queue of strange men and my
face getting ridden by the Brazilian stripper, I fell into a
whole new world of lust and sexual abandon.

After what seemed an eternity, my face-sitting dominatrix
shuddered and forced herself down hard on my nose and mouth. I
could feel her body shake violently and her cunt spasmed as it
gripped my semi-conscious face. She rode her orgasm out, riding
my face as if she were at a rodeo.

I passed out.

* * * * * *

It turns out that my seductress’ name was Regina. She told me
that I now belonged to her, and I knew I did. She had me move in
with her, the better to service her at her whim.

Jasmine took Jan and Kim took Cindy. Each of my friends now lives
with, and is owned by, their seductresses.

Jan did finally get to be intimate with me. So did Cindy. Seems
our new owners sometimes like a show. While we still have a
fondness for one another, our real love is for our respective
owners.

Sometimes our owners still make us “perform” at the club, and on
slow nights they’ll occasionally force us to service whatever men
are present.

But most of the time, these days, our job is just to pleasure our
owners in whatever manner they so desire.
