Chapter 4

Friday, August 13, 2021

Once again, I found myself standing in front of a door, petrified. Except, this time it was for real, I was closer to naked than naked itself, and on the other side of that door...

One of the dancers, Katie was taking me to Jeff, the chief bartender and club announcer, through the club floor, and I had no idea how many people were there. Did it matter, ten, a hundred? Would my panic have been less if I’d known there were only ten people who would see me? I knew the answer to that question.

It wouldn’t be ‘just’ seeing me either, I’ll be out among them, seducing, flaunting my body, convincing them to put money under my garter, their hands on me.

What would Daniella do? Daniella would back away from that door, petrified, like she’d done New Year’s. It’s how I was feeling, what I desperately wanted to do; Tara? Tara was still petrified, but she was going to hide her fear, her humiliation, and do as Rose suggested, embrace her sexuality, and walk through that door.

There were more than ten people, a lot more, at least a hundred more, three other waitresses, each wearing the same ridiculous costume as I was. It’s hard to call a three-inch by five-inch triangle a costume. I’m a math teacher, that comes to a total of seven-and-a-half square inches of pink silk. Each additional three-quarter-inch diameter pastie is an additional half square inch, for a grand total of eight-and-a-half square inches of material I was wearing, not counting the spandex string around my waist, or the string of pearls in my ass that was rubbing just inside my pussy lips. That, for the non-math oriented people out there is roughly two-inches by four-inches, the totality of what I was wearing.

Daniella would have no doubt stumbled and fallen in those shoes, probably breaking an ankle in the process. Tara glided, embracing the stares at her semi-naked body, enjoying the feeling of those rubbing pearls.

Tara was turned on, every fiber of her being on fire!

Katie left me with Jeff ... and a quick kiss on the lips, “Watch, I’m on in ten minutes,” she told me as she swished back toward the dressing room. What was that kiss about, I wondered?

“New girl, huh?” Jeff asked after she’d left. His eyes scanning up and down, a look of pure lust on his face, or maybe it was my imagination. I could easily have died of embarrassment. Dani wanted to run and hide, anywhere!

I nodded, “Yeah,” I told him, really ‘noticing’ him; tight, black t-shirt with muscles rippling under it; gorgeous, wavy, brown hair, and good-looking ... God, the guy should have been a male stripper ... and the way his eyes raked over my almost naked body ... Something to take my mind off my dingy apartment when I get home tonight.

“Ever done this before?”

“No,” I told him, “need the money though.”

“Rose fill you in on what to do?” he asked.

“Uhuh,” I answered, biting my lip nervously, wondering if he ‘does it’ with the girls. I’d do him! Except, I wasn’t planning on doing it with anyone, but he’d be on the list if I did.

“Someone asks for a drink recommendation, tell them a Singapore Sling, it’s our most expensive. Otherwise we serve mostly simple drinks. Whatever they order though we’ll make it work. Try to get them to order one for you, you’ll keep half the money and it’ll be non-alcoholic, but we can make it look and smell just like theirs.”

He explained that the floor was split into different sections, each of us girls having our section, “No poaching that way,” he explained. Four girls, four different sections. “You’re in section two,” and he pointed out the aisles where I was responsible for the in-between.

“So, go out there and have fun, make us all some money.”

I sat in the dressing room at three the next morning, counting my tips. Three-hundred-eighteen dollars. I sat in eight guys’ and three girls’ laps, shaking my tits in their faces, twenty dollars each, except one of the guys and both girls stuffed a fifty under my g-string strap, and I have no idea how many hand prints were on my ass.

Several tried to get me to take them to one of the Champagne Rooms in back. I had to explain that only the dancers were allowed to use the private rooms. “That’s where the real money is,” Rose told me.

After my fifty-dollar payment to the club, I still had two-hundred sixty-eight dollars. It seemed like a fortune, enough to go shopping for some real clothes and food tomorrow. Maybe, even a complete set of sheets.

I was tired and my feet hurt, which I’d never connected with being horny. Tonight proved me wrong, they went together like water and ice. My biggest regret though, was the club’s no touching rule. I’d been aching for some man, even a woman, to run their hands over my body, to feel my breasts, feel their lips on my skin.

I ached to take a man to one of the private rooms.

Wearing that costume did things to me!

That first time I sat on a guy’s lap, Jerry, I think he said his name was, I felt like I was going to die, so embarrassed ... but soooo turned on. I don’t know if the other girls’ moans are real but mine were. I longed to cradle his head in my arms, pull his lips to my tit. Not being able to was so frustrating, then it just seemed to get worse with each time.

I’d discovered something about myself, the heavy, heavy flirting with people who I didn’t even know their names, while I was covered with a full eight-and-a-half square inches of silk was more exhilarating than I’d ever imagined. Fun doesn’t even begin to describe ... I had to admit, even Daniella was so turned on! Three months of this?

What’s it going to be like in one of the Champagne rooms, privacy with some handsome guy, maybe even a couple, and even more naked...?

I needed to get home. It had been a long night, I was tired, and the adrenaline was wearing off. I looked in my locker, and Rose had put a skirt, blouse, and panties in it. No bra but I could live with that. I put them on, put my eight-and-a-half square inches in my bag, and was ready to go home.

And then I sat down and cried. I hadn’t thought of it until that minute, but I had no idea how I was getting home.

It’s twenty-four blocks to my apartment, there are no buses at three in the morning, and I had no idea how to get a taxi.

Kate came and sat beside me, she seemed to be my only friend in this room full of girls, other than Rose, and she was already gone. “You okay?” she asked, sounding truly concerned.

I laughed, what a stupid time to laugh, but this whole, ridiculous thing - me, Daniella Shore, math and science teacher, working in a sex club, wearing not quite nine fucking square inches, it just suddenly seemed so funny.

I looked at Katie with tears in my eyes, both from crying and laughing, “I don’t know how I’m getting home is all,” I told her. I wished I could tell her the rest – my real name, that I was really a teacher, why I was there...

That, and how badly I wished Robert was outside, waiting to take me home. I needed to fuck, feel him inside me. I didn’t even have my ‘Alan’ to relieve the pressure. My fingers were going to help, but they weren’t going to do the job that I needed done.

But first, I needed to get home, somehow.

“I’d be happy to give you a ride, where do you live?” Katie told me.

I could kiss her! And suddenly I WANTED to kiss her. “1424 N Fourteenth,” I told her.

“Practically on my way,” she said, “my boyfriend and I live on eighth.”

“I watched you dancing,” I told her as she drove, “you’re right, you are good, so sexy up there.”

“I’ll give you some pointers when it’s your turn,” she said, “I watched you too, a little bit, I like the way you walk, it’s ... different.”

I laughed, “Getting used to those shoes, I used to wear heels once in a while, back ... when things were better, but never anything like those. I like what they do to my legs ... not so much what they do to my feet though,” and we both giggled.

“This where you live?” Katie asked, incredulously, when she pulled into my apartment’s parking lot.

“Not much to look at, is it? It’s even ‘better’ inside,” I told her, giggling. She knew exactly what I meant.

I was on cloud nine, I’d made a friend! Even if she didn’t realize that I had a daughter her age.

I sat in my lovely stuffed chair and took my shoes off, rubbing my feet. The shoes weren’t as bad as I’d feared (maybe it had something to do with all the walking I’d done with Detective Royer) but my feet were still sore.

Then I contemplated calling my husband. I knew I had to but I dreaded telling him about the three months. I looked at my Timex, not quite four in the morning. It’d be almost one in Kennewick. I almost thought ‘at home’, but this was home.

He wouldn’t be asleep, I was sure, he’d be awake, waiting for my call, probably the rest of the night if I didn’t call, so...

I dug my phone out of my purse ... it seemed nearly as hard as that call to the Pink Orchid. Was that just the day before yesterday, not even thirty-six hours ago? Barely over that since I’d kissed my husband goodbye. I smiled, though, wondering what he’d think when I told him about my ‘costume’. I was pretty sure that would turn him on.

I giggled, realizing then that I wanted to turn him on, let him ‘enjoy’ that cage he was wearing. I wondered what he’d think when he discovered he’d be wearing it just a little while longer than he’d anticipated, like triple. He’d told me he didn’t want me to tell him where I’d hidden the key, ‘no matter what’, he’d said, and I wasn’t going to, no matter how he begged, and he would beg, long before those three months had gone by. He said it would be impossible to take off without the key and there’d be no key, not until I’m home. He wouldn’t find it either, I was sure, not even if he tore the whole house apart, looking. I couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face when I showed him.

Or, maybe not, I’m going to be gone for several months again when they start filming. That time, I might even insist on him wearing it again.

I’m not going to say that I wouldn’t care if he fucked Jen, maybe even Elle during these three months. Truth be known, it would turn me on, him telling me about it. But the thought of him trapped, unable to release his growing tension would be even more delicious, how I could tease him without him being able to do a thing about it.

And tease, I would!

For the record, it’s hidden ... no, I’m not going to tell you either.

All of that rumination had calmed my nerves, so that I was able to punch in his number without my fingers shaking nearly so badly.

Three rings before he answered, sounding wide awake.

“Hi,” I told my husband. It seemed like forever since I’d heard his voice, the day before yesterday.

“Hi,” he answered, “I miss you, how...”

“Got the job,” I told him, “I’m a waitress, just got home.”

“A waitress ... that sounds funny, Dani, a waitress. Just curious, were you ever a waitress before we met?”

I laughed, “No, I don’t think I could have. This is different though, we don’t serve any food, just drinks ... and...” Oh fuck, I didn’t want to get into the ‘and’. Or maybe I did, thinking about his little cage.

“And ... and what?” he asked, like he’d been programmed.

“We flirt, tell them how handsome they are, or how pretty the girls are, sit with them and have a drink with them ... sit on their lap ... ask me what the waitresses wear when we sit on their lap.”

“Okay, what did you wear?”

“Sweetheart, how can you even ask that? You should know I can’t tell you. What I’ll say though, is that the guys really like it, you know, like the Hooter Girls’ costumes. Well, they’re a little like that, except maybe a little more ... err, less. I’d get one of the girls to take a picture and send you except that I’m a single girl that’s just been dumped by her big-dicked boyfriend, you know, a dick-addicted girl having severe withdrawal. That’s what I told Julie when she was doing my paperwork and about to send me to the hairdresser to dye my hair blonde. Oh, by the way, I’m a blonde now, and did I mention that the guys liked what I was wearing?” and I stopped to take a breath.

All of that was from a single breath, a sudden decision to let him stew about what I was wearing.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you, Dani.”

“Tara, not Dani. Dani would never do what I did tonight. She earned almost three-hundred dollars tonight ... we waitresses don’t make money by just being pretty and selling drinks, you know. I found out that Tara is a bit of a tramp though, she likes it ... a lot.”

“You know how much Dani wishes you were here, she was on fire tonight, sooo turned on, after ... She wants to do the things to you that Tara did to those other men ... and women?

“Da ... Tara, you’re killing me, you know how long this month is going to be for me?”

“Uhh, about that month...”

I hesitated, letting him think about that statement. God, I’m mean!

But it was so much fun.

“Julie, she’s the lady I mostly talked to. Stan’s the boss, he’s the one who gave the approval after he made me strip naked for him, but Julie wields the real power. She ... sort of ... made me promise ... three months, at least, she said, I had to promise.”

Silence, and then a loud groan, “Three ... months ... you’re serious? But the studio only asked for one,” his voice squeaked. “Surely, you’re not intending to...”

“Uhuh, I am serious, and yes, I’m going to keep my promise. It doesn’t have anything to do with the studio, it has to do with me giving my word. Julie admitted that I wasn’t a slave, but she trusted me. The studio insisted on a month for the experience, but remember Kathleen saying they wouldn’t have any control over it? Well, I found out pretty quickly how true that was and that I didn’t either. To even see inside the club, I had to agree to the three months. She wanted four but only demanded the three. And no, she didn’t know anything about the studio, just that I was a single girl needing a job after a bad breakup and her suspicion that I didn’t intend to stay long.”

A long silence, “I don’t know what to say,” he said, “except that I don’t want you gone that long.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t either, but it’s done now, and I didn’t have a choice. Even if Kathleen called tomorrow morning and canceled the movie completely, I’ve made the promise and I’m keeping it. This is August, guess I’ll be home Mid-November, in time for Thanksgiving.”

“I’m just ... scared. For you ... for us. It’s like you’re another person ... Tara, what if...?”

“Taura, not Tara,” and I could see him smiling from three-thousand miles away. “But seriously, you don’t need to be, no matter what happens between now and then, and yes, it’s going to be a lot, I know, I’m going to be stripping in a men’s club, and I can’t foretell everything that those three months might bring. But I do KNOW the ‘after’, I’ll still be Daniella, your wife, and I love you. I’ll be home the middle of November and we’ll have so much fun, me telling you everything, whatever ‘everything’ might be.”