Chapter 2

Friday arrived, and at five o'clock on the nose, Julie came in through the front door. She was wearing a well-broken pair of cowboy boots, a checked blouse, and a denim mini-skirt. She looked like she was heading out for an evening of line-dancing, and I told her so after we had exchanged greetings.

She laughed a bit and said, "These actually are the clothes I usually wear when I do go line-dancing. I figured that since I can dance for hours in these boots, then they'd be good to wear for working here, and they'd go well with the leather outfit."

"Works for me, and you're probably right. I know a couple of the other girls also wear boots like those. Let's go in the back and get you dressed up."

I led her into the staff locker room, and showed her where she could stow her clothes. I also pointed out the washrooms and shower rooms, in case she needed to clean up during, or after a shift. "It's not uncommon to get beer spilled on you while you're working. If it happens, don't sweat it, just come on back here and take a quick shower if you want. The leather in the outfit has been treated to withstand things like beer, so you can even shower in it if you want to. After all, cows stand out in the rain all the time."

I went to a locker at the back, and took out one of the 'new girl' uniforms. We had a couple of them, just in case we had more than one girl auditioning at the same time. I brought it over to her, and hung it on her locker door, then waited to see how modest she might be. Not wanting to get changed while I was standing there was usually a good indicator that she wouldn't last the night.

My estimation went up a few points when she unbuttoned her blouse to reveal her bare breasts, then unzipped her skirt and dropped it to the floor. She was bereft of any form of underwear, and glanced over at me while she removed her blouse and hung it in the locker. When she bent to pick her skirt off the floor, she angled her rear in my direction; I was fairly sure she had done it on purpose, and I took a moment to savour the view of the tight cheeks of her ass and the closed lips of her vulva showing between them.

When she stood back up, and had hung her skirt in the locker, she turned to face me full on, and asked, "Like what you see?"

I shouldn't have done it, but I reached out to cup both of her breasts in my hands, and squeezed them for a moment. They were full, and firm, with cute little dark pink nipples. I rubbed my thumbs across those nipples, and felt them perk up. "Very nice. I like them a lot. Consider this as your first groping of the night."

She smiled, and a dimple appeared in one cheek. "That wasn't a grope; that was a caress, and I liked it as much as you did."

I let go of those beautiful breasts, and watched as she started to don the skirt. "I really shouldn't have touched you like that, because you didn't ask, and I apologize for my behaviour. I know I'm sending you out there to get mauled and groped all night, but you should feel like it's a safe haven back here, and not someplace where the boss is likely to attack you."

As soon as I stopped talking, her hands came up under my breasts, and she squeezed them very firmly, stepping closer to put one of her legs between mine. Her lips moved to mine, and her tongue shot deep into my mouth as soon as our lips touched. The attack threw me for a moment, as she was now clearly the aggressor, and I had not expected this from her, especially with the vibe she had given off the other day.

Her head moved back, but her hands kept hold of my breasts, and she looked me in the eye. "I'd say we're more than even about now, in terms of who is attacking whom. I like to be caressed by someone I like; I'm about to find out whether I also like to be groped by complete strangers. As far as you are concerned, you can touch me anytime you like, anywhere you like. Consider this an open invitation ... but I also reserve the right to return the favour." She smiled again, and winked. "Deal?"

I took one of her nipples between my thumb and index finger, and squeezed it for a moment, then rolled it back and forth as I felt it stiffening up. "Deal."

She squealed a little as she felt the flash of pain, but laughed as well as she gave my breasts one final, and very firm squeeze before releasing them. She quickly turned to put the vest on, and I showed her how the clasp worked, and how to adjust the fit of the skirt.

When she was done, she walked over to look at herself in the full-length mirror on the wall, then nodded her head. "I guess I'm about as ready as I'll ever be. Bring on the gropers."

I walked her out to the bar and introduced her to the bartenders for the evening, and explained how our cash handling worked. My partner and I had looked at the way other bars operated, and mostly copied their system, with a few refinements to make it safer for the girls on the floor. We also wanted to make sure that the girls were safe from being robbed, and that the bar itself was protected, since our clientele was not above carrying guns on occasion. She seemed to be a quick study, and grasped how the system worked right away.

I pulled a coin from my pocket and said, "Now, for the final item. You know that you'll be working a half-hour at a time, alternating which side you work in. Do you want to pick which side you start on, or do I flip a coin and tell you?"

"Go ahead, toss the coin."

"All right—heads you start on the men's side, tails on the women's." The coin went up, spinning away, and I let it drop to the floor. It bounced a couple of times, then came to rest with the head side up. I looked down to confirm it, then said, "Okay, the men get to see you first. At 6:30, you switch over to the women."

She picked up a tray as I retrieved the coin, adjusted her skirt one last time, and winked at me as she spun around to talk to the other waitress, so they could divide up the tables they would work. There weren't more than twenty people in the place yet, so the start would be relatively slow, but the crowd would soon grow as more people headed our way after work.

At the first table, everyone actually smiled at her as they ordered their drinks, and the men just ogled her, although one of them did pat her on the rear as she turned to the next table. She didn't even flinch as she walked away, and I figured that she didn't even consider that to be much of a grope.

Her second table, however, had a collection of bikers at it. I knew this crew—they had cost me the last potential waitress during her first night ordeal. They had been merciless the entire evening, until the girl had declared that enough was enough and had stormed into the dressing room and changed clothes before almost running out of the bar. Everyone at the table had managed to insert one or more fingers into the poor girl's pussy at some point during the night, and that included the three cycle mamas in the bunch. A couple of them had even made a big show about licking their fingers after molesting her.

As soon as she stopped at their table, I saw the biker on her left reach out and slip his hand under her skirt. When she flinched a little, I knew that he had grabbed her by the ass, and was probably giving it a good squeeze. An instant later, the biker on her right had turned to face her and I saw his right hand slide up her bared thigh, since that was where the slit in the skirt was positioned. She was now being held between the two of them, and I wondered if I was going to have to step in to rescue her.

From my vantage point, it looked like the one on her right had now reached her pussy, and was either rubbing it, or trying to slip a finger into her. She stiffened for a moment, then turned to look at the one holding her ass and said something to him. He started laughing, and the other one quickly pulled his hand back and started wiping it off on his jeans. She took their drink orders, and turned to head for the bar.

While she waited for the drinks to be poured, I walked over to see how she was doing. "Whatever you said, you certainly managed to escape their clutches quickly. That bunch cost me the last girl who tried to go through the gauntlet."

She smirked a bit and laughed. "It all depends on whether or not you've got an infection, and need a boil or two lanced."

I laughed at her audacity, and said, "That may not work more than once or twice, and it's a long night ahead."

"Not to worry. I know I'm likely to end up with a few fingers in places I'd prefer to keep private, but if they're not too rough I think I can handle it." She picked up her tray and walked off quickly to set the drinks down and collect the money. This time no one at either table seemed to do much beyond squeezing one of her legs.

I watched her working some of the other tables, and she certainly seemed to be dealing with any wandering hands. For the most part, her approach seemed to be to simply ignore whatever was being done to her, unless somebody's hands prevented her from moving. She also seemed to be fairly quick with a comment or smart remark, and she typically left the people at a table laughing at something she had said.

I tensed up at one point, ready to wade into the fray; this time it was a table full of rednecks. She had just delivered a round of drinks, and was bent over slightly, getting the money she was owed. Two of them slid a hand each under her vest, and grabbed one of her breasts, holding her in place; from the look on her face, the hands had grabbed a little too tightly for comfort. A third one stood up suddenly, and moved behind her, bringing his crotch up tight to her ass; his hands took hold of her hips, and it looked exactly like he was about to rape her.

Her reaction took me by surprise, and I started to think that my concerns about this girl could likely be put to rest. For a moment, she completely ignored the man behind her, and looked to each of the two holding her breasts. She said something to each of them, and they promptly released their hold on her. Then she reached between her legs and grabbed the man behind, I assumed by something tender, as he immediately let go of her hips and started to bring his hands to his crotch. She quickly changed hands so she could turn and stand up, but by his expression and body language she was keeping the pressure on whatever she was holding in her fist.

She leaned over to speak in his ear, and after a moment he nodded, then nodded again, and I saw him say something to her. She released her grip and stood up, smiling at him as he quickly moved to sit down. Her next move was to look at the two who had grabbed her breasts; she said something to them, then reached for the clip that held her vest together. I was a little puzzled when she opened the vest, but she had angled herself so that only the two of them could see what she was showing. They both got rather goofy grins on their faces, and I could understand their delight, having both seen and felt those breasts just a little while ago. A few seconds later and she had re-fastened the vest, and picked up her tray; I noted that there seemed to be a wad of bills on it.

At the bar I asked her, "So, your first half-hour is nearly up. Any comments so far?"

She grinned. "I can see I'm going to make a lot of money if I end up working here. These boys get pretty generous for getting to feel my ass or my pussy, but some of them seem to think that a woman's private parts can withstand some pretty rough treatment."

"If they're getting too rough, just let me know."

"Oh, don't worry. I'm good, but I may be a little tender tomorrow. I'm also getting a little wet, so the next guy to rub my puss may get more than he bargained for."

"So I guess a little rough handling just gets your motor primed, eh?"

"Maybe so; I don't know. This is a little different from the foreplay that I'm used to."

I laughed as she moved off to deliver her latest tray of drinks. While I watched, someone did indeed get a very wet couple of fingers, but he certainly didn't seem to mind as he stared into her face while he cleaned his fingers of all of her juices, then tipped her quite well for the touch.

When she returned to the bar, I waved her through to the other side, and followed her. "From what I can see of the crowd in here, your first one or two tours through here may be fairly easy. Most of the women I can see I happen to know are straight, so it's highly unlikely that they'll be looking to touch you. Don't let that fool you; by later on there may be several groups of fairly aggressive women, and I know they like to touch ... and more." She looked at me a little sharply, but I didn't elaborate—she either dealt with it, or headed out the door, and it wouldn't matter what I said.

She had a quick chat with the other girl serving this side, and they worked out how to handle the occupied tables and booths. A moment later she was taking orders from her first table. On this side, it was also much more likely that she would have to serve food, so there were more opportunities for her to be closer to the customers, and at a table for longer periods of time. That also meant that she would need to learn how to put plates down without spilling anything while someone's fingers were playing with her pussy.

I watched with interest when she approached the first table at which I knew that the women were lesbians. Up to this point, all of the women she had served were straight, but this encounter might be interesting. I could see the two women greeting her warmly, but I knew that this was simply the way the sharks sized up their next meal, circling around it until they moved in.

Sure enough. There was a third woman who hadn't been at the table; she came walking across the floor from the direction of the washroom, and stopped right behind Julie. The woman's hands went around her waist, and under the vest, and by the reaction she had just taken a firm grip of those very nice breasts. The seated woman in front of her leaned forward and lifted the front of the leather skirt, then moved her other hand to the treasure at the top of her thighs. It looked like she slid a couple of fingers all the way in, and started rubbing the clit with her thumb.

I wasn't sure how far they would take their assault on the girl. On one occasion I had seen them practically rape another girl before I had a chance to wade in and pull them off. I had also seen them tease a waitress mercilessly, but not let her come all night. In a way, I almost had to thank them for that one, as she had ended up in my bed later that night, hotter than hell, and wanting orgasm after orgasm for hours.

It looked like this one was going to get the tease treatment, at least for the moment. I saw the woman behind her nuzzling her neck, and saying something to her while she continued to work her breasts. The other one was still moving her fingers, but was watching things very closely. The third woman was running a hand along the back of one thigh, up to Julie's ass, and massaging everything she touched.

The three of them suddenly pulled back, and ceased their sexual assault just as Julie seemed to be rising up on her toes, probably about to yell out her orgasm. She stopped like that for a moment, before realizing that no one was touching her. She looked around at the woman who had been behind her, and then at the gang leader who had been under her skirt. That one was admiring her wet fingers, and licking them clean while closely watching Julie.

A few words were exchanged, but everyone seemed to be smiling as Julie took notes on her pad. I saw money being placed on her tray, and she spun around to come back to the bar. After she had ordered food and drinks, she turned to me. "You and I may need to have a close, personal discussion later."

I grinned at her, since she didn't seem angry. "Oh, how come?"

"Because I am likely going to need some attention to my poor overheated pussy before this night is out. And don't you laugh ... I know you were watching! They nearly made me come, right there at the table ... and then they just left me hanging. Damn! I was right there ... one more second and I would have been dancin' and wailin'."

"I saw some money go on your tray ... did they pay you for your time?"

"Oh, that was the icing on things. They gave me fifty bucks, and said they'd make it more if I'd let them take me home. The one that had her fingers in me was telling me how good I tasted. Damn! They must think I'm a whore or something."

Her reaction was getting me a little worried, but I thought she might just have been blowing off steam. "Is it too much? Are you about to walk out?"

She had been looking at the back of the bar when I asked the question, and her head came around so fast that I thought she might have pulled a muscle. "Hell, no! It's going to take way more than a couple of lesbians with their fingers in my puss to chase me out of here. It'd serve them right if I just stood in front of them and jilled myself off, then walked away without lettin' 'em touch me!"

I laughed at both the sight of her, and the image of her masturbating in front of the table of sharks, then had to sputter out an apology to her for my reaction. After I caught my breath, I said, "You can do that if you want, but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't. That kind of stuff could cost us our license, at least for a few days."

She put a hand on my shoulder and quickly said, "Oh, I wouldn't do it ... honest. It was just the thought, and I blurted it out before my brain caught up to what I was sayin'."

"Okay, no problem." I smiled at her to let her know there were no hard feelings, then said, "You know, if you really want to get them, climb up on the stage and strip, and look straight at them the whole time you're up there. When you're done, you could even circulate through the tables, but bypass that one. If they see other people touching you, and them being snubbed, they should get the message."

"You mean I should get naked, then let everyone else touch me except them?" I nodded in agreement, but wasn't sure where she was headed with this. "Wouldn't that be the same as what they were doing?"

"Well, in a way, except that you'd be letting it happen voluntarily."

"So, I should take my clothes off and dance for everyone, then walk around naked and let all those women touch me, and even make me come? Isn't that kind of like making me a prostitute?"

"It all depends on how you look at it. If I were selling you to everyone, or making money from them touching you, then, yes, that would be prostitution. But if you do it voluntarily, and for the fun of being naked and having sex, then how is that different from just being at a party somewhere?"

She looked at me sideways, and replied, "You must go to some really interesting parties."

"Most of them are right here in the 'house, during regular hours. Trust me, we even have customers that come in and dance on the stage for an hour, then spend the rest of the night wandering through the crowd, completely naked and carefree."

"And getting felt up, and fingered... ?"

"And much more ... and they have a ball doing it."

"This really is quite the place you've got going here. If this is tame, I can't wait to see wild."

"So, you're not about to quit?"

"Like I said before, 'Hell no!' We're just getting warmed up." By that time, her food order was ready so she loaded her tray and headed back to the table of sharks. As soon as she reached the table, hands came up to rub the backs of her legs, and I saw one go under the skirt, but she seemed to simply ignore them, and delivered the food and utensils to the right places, then carried on to the next table.

I watched her for a few more minutes, observing how well she dealt with the customers, and whether she had any trouble keeping her orders straight. It seemed that every one of the lesbians wanted to touch her, partly because she was new, and partly because she really was very pretty. I saw hands go under her skirt, and obviously across her pussy, since many of the fingers went into mouths after the caress. Quite typically, every woman she spoke to wanted to at least caress her tight rear, if not something else.

The longer I watched her, the more impressed I became; she was quick on her feet, and fast with a quip when hands got too personal. I saw several of the most aggressive women smile and laugh when she spoke, usually while one of their hands was under her skirt. I didn't see her make any mistakes with either food or drink orders, and I could tell that some of the orders had been designed to test her. Many of my regular patrons liked to try to trip up the new girls since they could use any weakness to their advantage in harassing them. This girl, however, didn't seem to be rising to the bait, and dealt with everything they threw at her.

I signaled her when it was time to head back to the men's side, and she cleared her orders in preparation. When she returned to the bar, I noticed quite a few bills on her tray, but she wasn't taking time to count them; she simply stuffed them in the safe at the bar and headed through the doors. This was another point in her favour—girls who spent all their time counting their tips didn't usually make the best of waitresses, since their focus was on their wealth, and not how well they were looking after the customers.

The next few hours followed a similar pattern: she moved fast, talked back to the customers, got them laughing, and had every available piece of her anatomy patted, squeezed, fondled, and one occasion, even kissed. I watched as one of the bikers got on his knees behind her, flipped her skirt up, and kissed both cheeks of her ass, while his hands moved up and down the front of her thighs. Surprisingly, he didn't try to go for anything else, although his girlfriend did reach under her vest to squeeze one of her breasts while the kiss was happening. When he was done, she helped him up and they grinned widely at each other, as if they were sharing some secret between them.

After her first couple of hours, it seemed as if the men were treating her more as a friend than anything else. There seemed to be more chatter among them, fewer invasive fingers, and much more of a friendly camaraderie every time she brought a tray of drinks. When someone did decide to grope her, it seemed to be more of a soft caress than an attack, and most of the time she just let it happen, pretty much ignoring what was going on.

Ironically, it seemed that it was the women who got bolder and more aggressive as the night wore on, and I was beginning to think that they were competing to see who could make her come while she was working. At each table, someone's hand was under her skirt, and I saw hands from different people under the skirt on more than one occasion. She barely managed to break free during one or two of her rounds through some of the tables, and I could see by her flushed appearance that she was very close to an orgasm.

At the bar, after she had finished putting in her orders, she looked at me. "Damn! I'd never have thought I'd be saying this, but I'm thinking that working with the bikers and rednecks is a whole lot easier on my body than working with these vampires. My poor pussy is soaking wet, and I'm so close to coming that I may need a few minutes in the back."

"I think I may know what's going on ... I think there's a contest underway, and I think you're the prize."

"Huh? What are you saying?"

I moved closer to her, so we could talk quietly. "I have a feeling that they've got a bet running to see who can make you come first. That's why they've been going at you so aggressively. I'd say that the rules of the bet are that no one can gang up on you to hold you down, so if you can manage to walk away, that person's turn is over."

She stared at me, astonished. "You really think that's it? A bet? I've never been someone's bet before."

"Well, I can't prove it, not unless I go over there and confront them, but I've seen a few looks going back and forth, so I'm fairly sure that's it."

"So, what can I do? Are you going to throw them out?"

"Well, they're not doing anything illegal, and you did know about getting groped, so I can't just toss them for that. No, as I see it you've got about three choices."

"And, those are?"

"Well, first, you could stand still long enough for one of them to win the bet..."

"You mean let someone make me come, in front of everyone out there? Isn't that kind of bold, if not illegal?"

"Well, I wouldn't worry about the legalities of it, unless you want to make a case out of it. Yes, what they're doing could be classed as a sexual assault, but you were warned going in, and you voluntarily agreed to do it. I agree that it's kind of bold, but it's no different from the kind of thing that goes on during a lap dance in a strip joint."

"What else?"

"You could confront them ... tell them you know what they're trying to do, and ask them to stop. There's no guarantee that will work; it might just make them try harder."

"Somehow I don't think asking these bitches to do anything will work. You said there were three choices ... what's your last suggestion?"

"You probably won't like this one ... you could get up on the stage, strip, and do yourself in front of everyone. That way, everyone gets to see you, but no one gets to make you come except you."

"I don't think I like that option. I think that would be too scary."

"Well, you could modify it by going back to your original idea of doing yourself in front of the worst table, without taking your clothes off. If you're not on the stage, though, then I could get in trouble, since I couldn't call it part of your act as a stripper."

"I can't say as how I like any of the options, short of just telling them to piss off. I know that wouldn't sit too well with you, since it would tick off a bunch of your customers."

"You're right about that. Come to think about it, though, there may be another option, although it's mainly a variation on the first one. I don't know if it's enough of a difference to suit you."

"Let me decide that. What's your idea?"

"Well, I was thinking that it really hasn't been all that much of a proper contest so far. I mean, there don't seem to be any rules, and there doesn't seem to be any control over who does what as far as you're concerned."

"Yeah, but where are you going with this?"

"I haven't thought out all the details yet, but I'm thinking that we could turn it into a proper contest. Make everyone buy their way in, they each get only so much time to try to make you come before control passes to the next person, and the winner of the pot has to split it with you. You could make a tidy little bit of money."

"Are you trying to convince me to do this for the money? 'Cause that won't work, and that would be like whorin' myself out."

"No, I wasn't trying to do that. Mainly the money would be to force them to get serious about what they're doing. You can do whatever you want with the money ... give it to charity, blow it on something stupid, whatever."

"So ... I go sit out there with my legs open and my skirt up, showin' off all I own, and these bitches get to come up and play with my little puss, one at a time, until I come. Then after that, presumably, I pick up my tray and ask them what they'd like for their next round."

I couldn't help myself ... I started laughing at the incongruity of her comment; a moment later, she joined in, so I knew she wasn't too angry about what was happening. I apologized for laughing, and she told me not to worry about it. I asked, "So ... what do you think you should do?"

She paused for a moment, rolling things over in her mind. With a sideways look at me, she said, "Well, I thought that no one was likely to make me come until after my shift." She gave me a wink and a crooked smile to make sure that I got her meaning. "I guess that's about to change."

"How do you want to do this? It's your choice."

"What I really want is to just keep serving drinks, and putting up with occasionally getting patted on my ass, but I guess that's not going to happen. Ah hell, let's do the contest thing, and get it over with ... but I want you to be in charge, okay?"

"If you're sure that's what you want to do..."

"Well, maybe you can get 'em to lay off me a little for the rest of my shift, in exchange for what's about to happen."

"Don't worry ... I'll read them the riot act. Give me a minute to set things up, and you can wait on any other tables in the meantime." I made my way over to the collection of tables and booths where I had seen the worst attacks taking place. On the way, I glanced over to see if she had gone back to work, and I smirked when I saw her at a table on the other side of the floor. As she was taking drink orders, a hand did indeed go under her skirt, and it looked to be giving her ass a good massage. That told me a lot about her, and I was becoming more and more certain that she would be staying on.

I looked around for a moment, then found the woman that I was pretty sure was the ringleader of the assault on Julie. I parked myself in front of her, forcing her to look up at me. "Wanda ... you and I need to have a chat." I wasn't smiling as I addressed her.