Chapter 1

I’m a lot more comfortable in dance clothes than a business suit but I was summoned to a meeting with the President of Basketball Operations, and I knew better than to go to the Executive Conference Room dressed casually. I took a quick shower, put on deodorant, slipped into a fresh, white, matching bra and panty set, a white silk blouse, half-slip, suit skirt, three inches shorter than a Fortune 500 Company would have approved, a sassy scarf around my neck, my tailored suit jacket, footies, and black Italian heels. I had no idea why I was being called in, but that was the way Operations management worked. I was pretty sure my shower had a camera hidden in it, so my boss could see me naked. That would explain his calling for me at the end of my daily workout. That was how he worked. During the last year, I’d had to fuck him countless times as part of my “job duties.”

I was Lead Dancer and Choreography Assistant to the Dance Team Director and Choreographer last season. I hadn’t been offered a new contract yet, but I hadn’t been fired and I was still getting a paycheck. I knew Juliette, the Team Director, was happy with my work. Maybe the PBO would just make me beg him to fuck me and then offer me a contract for next year.

The owner had gone out and bought the players who should make The Stars a team with a chance to make it to the finals this season. The owner fired the old President of Basketball Operations and promoted the Vice President of Basketball Operations to fill the vacancy. The new PBO brought in a new operations staff, and a new Head Coach. The new Head Coach brought all new assistant coaches and staff. Except for a few players, it was like we had a whole new team.

The PBO’s gorgeous Administrative Assistant, Anna, ushered me into the conference room and showed me where to sit. She smiled at me like I was a sacrificial virgin, as she bent down and whispered in my ear, “Don’t be dumb, and you’ll be fine dear.” As she spoke, she unbuttoned two more buttons of my white silk blouse, and pulled the scarf off of my neck so it wouldn’t obscure the view of my cleavage. I did a silent, “Ah Ha, so this is how the new regime operates.”

The PBO walked in along with his Statistics and Video manager. She was even more beautiful than the AA. She was wearing a suit, but her blouse was unbuttoned even further than mine, and her skirt was impossibly short. I admired how trim her thighs were. No bulges or fat on her tight body, just like a dancer should look!

Mr. Stoller looked at me and said, “OK Kandy, you worked your butt off last season. Juliette says you are good people, so you are getting promoted to Dance Team Director, because that’s how we work. Do your job, work your butt off, get results, and you get rewarded.

“Juliette gave five of the best years of her life to the team. She’s getting promoted too. The owner is marrying her in two weeks.

“Your job is going to be tougher than Juliette’s was. You’ll have the same title, but you’ll have a lot more responsibility and some different duties. You’ll get paid more too.

“I’m glad you brought a pad, because you’ll need to take a lot of notes.

“Kandy, we have the right players and coaches to win. Operations wants to make sure we protect the players from themselves in their personal lives. Your new duties will be picking girls to be their girlfriends. They need to be girls who can keep the players happy and not create drama or make problems. It goes without saying that the girls must be drug and disease free, non-smokers, able to stay in control of their emotions, and smart enough to do what they are told.

All your girls will get drug and STD tested at least once a month. They all need to have backgrounds that look good in the media. Team girls will travel with the team. Having players room with each other is obsolete, so the guys will room with their girlfriends. I’m sure you can figure out other useful skills the girls ought to have. In fact, why don’t you tell me about the girls you’ll recruit,” The PBO said.

“I’ll interview each player and find out what he thinks he needs and what he likes. I’ll be looking for psychology students and recent graduates, sports and sports medicine students and graduates, massage and physical therapists. I’d also consider fitness models and other specialty models willing to learn the skills they need to take care of a player. I’d try to match up girls of an appropriate age for the players, but I think younger girls might be more motivated and flexible. In any case, I would make sure every girl understood that her only job was keeping her player healthy and happy. I would make sure none of the girls had career aspirations or any other distractions. I would make sure every girl loved sex, but wouldn’t wear her guy out before a game or bug him for more than makes him feel good. I don’t want any problems from a nympho girl making a player think he wasn’t man enough to satisfy her. Unless the player likes watching girls, I’d only pick dedicated heterosexual girls, so there would not be any girlfriend drama.

“Of course, I will need to monitor and manage the girls and make sure they are performing up to standards and actually helping their player,” I said.

“I think you used your time well last year and talked to Juliette a lot. Most of the things we are trying this year are her ideas. You have a good handle on what we want and need from team girls. I’m glad you didn’t waste my time with any, ‘That’s prostitution’ arguments.

“Now let’s talk about the dancers. What is your vision for your squad?” Mr. Stoller asked.

“OK, I’m going to be completely honest here. This is my vision, so if this is not what your marketing research shows fans want, let me know, and I’ll give them what they want.

“First, I think the days of big tit cheerleaders are long gone. I don’t want big floppy udders, bulging tummies, or fat asses. I want every girl to be a dancer and look like it. I’d look at our season ticket holder demographics and try to make sure we have enough Asian, Black, Latino, and White, girls to parallel the demographics. My dancers are going to look a lot more like ballet and fitness dancers than over the hill strippers. They will all have pretty faces, and none of them will look bored, spaced out, or stoned. Our routines are going to be a lot more like the top college squads, with pyramids and flyers. It’s going to be fast moving and exciting. You won’t have to hire over the hill Russian circus performers for half time. I will have enough routines that people will never be bored.

“I know the other duties of the dancers, so if my vision conflicts with your preferences, Mr. Stoller, I can adjust my tryout criteria,” I said.

“You are a smart cookie, Kandy, and it seems like you are a real team girl, with management potential. You know what we need, now I want to see results from you. Let me tell you right away that if a dancer is a team girl, she will go on the payroll. None of this amateur bullshit. Make sure I’ll want to hire her before you invite her to join the team.

“Now we both know I have special skills that can MAKE a girl do what I want her to, but I’ll tell you right now that it’s more pleasant for both me and the girl if she does what I want her to without coercion. I could put you under my control, but you are already a team girl. You’ll lead by example, and show your dancers that they will be deliriously happy if they give me everything I want,” The PBO said.

I stood up and shed my suit jacket. I came up close to Mr. Stoller and put my fingers on the next button of my blouse. I unfastened it and bent over to allow the PBO to look down my blouse, at my A Cup breasts. I switched to my husky, “I need you to fuck me NOW” voice and said, “Do you need a demonstration of my dedication to the team Sir? It seems like your staff can give you everything you might want, but it’s not up to me to question your desires Sir. If you want me, just say the word.”

“Oh, Juliette definitely explained to you how things work. She may have exaggerated how unpleasant it is to have me compel you, but I really do enjoy having a girl volunteer,” Mr. Stoller said.

I kept unbuttoning my blouse, going very slowly. I finished undoing the last button, and I wiggled out of the thin white silk. I laid it over the back of an unused chair. I moved close to the PBO, and rubbed my breasts, encased in a lacy white push-up bra, against Mr. Stoller’s arm.

Mr. Stoller smiled at me and said, “Your tits are a little bigger than I remember. When you do the uniforms, be sure one version is very tiny and the tops show that although the girls are smaller on top than in the past, they have lovely breasts that are shaped perfectly and totally worth a man lusting after them.”

I rubbed my tits against his arm and whispered, “Do you want me to take off my bra, or would you like to do it for me, Mr. S?”

He laughed and reached behind my back to open the hook and eye fasteners. I let him peel the bra off my body, and I rubbed my naked tits against his chest. “You make me so hot!” I said.

“When girls are on salary, make sure they all wear nice looking clothes, including their bras and panties. None of that threadbare shit. The girls are in the profession of looking good, so they need to pay attention to detail and look good all the time, down to their underwear. That means extreme push-up bras, and ALWAYS matching bras and panties,” Mr. Stoller said.

He caressed my breasts. I was pleasantly surprised that he didn’t need to display his dominance over me by mauling my tits. He stroked me and worked on my nipples until I could feel myself getting wet. I swayed seductively and unfastened my skirt at the waist. I wiggled out of it and laid it on the chair, with my blouse. I tried to do a sexy strip, swaying as I pulled down my half-slip. I was now in front of the PBO in just my panties. Fortunately for me, they were nearly new and matched my bra. I danced up to Mr. Stoller and straddled his right leg. I rubbed my panty-covered crotch against his thigh. My satin and lace covered labia encountered the PBO’s cockhead further down his leg than I remembered it, and it wasn’t that long since the end of last season.

“Oh Mr. S, Juliette never told me how big a reward you have to give a girl who pleases you!” I said in a breathy whisper.

“You can do better than that Kandy. Juliette told me all about what a little slut you are dear, so you are going to have to beg me to get what you need, little girl,” Mr. Stoller said.

I didn’t know why the PBO wanted to pretend he hadn’t fucked me before. Maybe it was for the benefit of his new staff members or some perverted plan to fuck with my mind. I kept swaying and stripped off my panties in as sexy a way as I could. Then I danced up to him naked.

I whispered, “Mr. S, a powerful man like you makes me so wet, I better take off your expensive slacks, so I don’t ruin them by getting my pussy juice and my thick, slippery pussy cream all over the gabardine.”

I reached for his belt, and he let me unbuckle him, open his slacks, and guide them down his fit, muscular legs. I carefully smoothed the wrinkles out of his slacks, and hung them over the back of his chair. Mr. S. was standing there in shirt, tie and boxer shorts. His big boner seriously tented the white broadcloth fabric of his boxers. I smiled and pulled the elastic waistband out away from his body and guided the underwear down to his feet. He stepped out of them. Now the PBO was standing there in shirt, tie, Italian loafers, and over the calf socks. I knelt in front of him and sucked his cock. He wasn’t gentle with me. He shoved the big mushroom-shaped head down my throat and held my lips tightly against his wiry pubic hair. I breathed through my nose and didn’t let myself panic. When he shoved his cock all the way down my throat, it cut off my air supply. Just before I was going to pass out, he pulled back and let me breathe. I caught my breath, and then he shoved his big cock down my throat again. He smiled as I swallowed repeatedly, massaging his cock. When I was starting to run out of air again, he shot off, sending his cum straight to my stomach. I waited until he was done shooting, then slowly pulled back and sucked any stray cum off his cock. I smiled up at him, and licked my lips.

“You know Kandy, a man can tell a lot about a girl by how she sucks his cock. You aren’t a girl who tries to get by with the least she can do. You are proud of your ability to deep throat, and you showed that off to me right away. I’m a little above average size, but you were calm and took me down your throat anyway. When I didn’t let you breathe, you stayed calm and waited. If I made you pass out from lack of oxygen, you would have slipped to the floor and started breathing automatically. You knew you wouldn’t die, so you didn’t panic. When I came, you were running short of air, but you kept swallowing making sure you got every drop and gave me the best cum you could. You stayed calm and waited to breathe until I was done shooting off. The most important thing was that we didn’t have to waste time with me showing you I can make you do anything I want. Juliette told you I’m like the Borg, and you didn’t waste my time because you already knew resistance is futile. That made things much nicer for both of us.

“I know your tiny pussy is hot and very wet now. You’d like it a lot if I would reward you by fucking your hot little twat. But I’m not going to do that. I’m going to make you wait. I want to see you get results and withholding your reward should help motivate you.

“When you come to the meeting next week, I want you to have accomplished three things. First, pick your lead dancer. Make sure she is as good looking as you are, or if possible, even more beautiful. Make sure she is a girl who grabs me by the balls when I look at her, and who could lead me around by my cock, except that you make sure to only pick sweet girls who like to satisfy their men. Make sure she is eager for me to touch her and is totally willing to do anything I want.

“Second, find The Boz a girlfriend who will keep him motivated, working out, in shape, and playing up to his ability. Before long, I want to have a call from Boz raving about finding the love of his life.

“Oh, when you come to our next meeting, I want you dressed like Amanda here. Have her tell you where to get business attire that makes you look as sexy on the outside as you are inside. No goddamn modesty stuff like slips either!

“Third, if you want me to fuck you next week, get with that costume designer friend of yours and have her sew up a prototype of your vision for the tiny uniform that will wake everyone up and make them all want to rape the dancers,” The PBO said.

“Yes, Sir,” I said, trying to sound sufficiently intimidated.

“Why aren’t you on your knees, begging for my dick, Kandy? From what Juliette told me, you must be terribly itchy right now, and dreading another night home alone, where you’ll be in pain, even with frequent applications of your Hitachi Magic Wand,” Mr. S. said.

“From what Juliette told me about you, Sir, if you want me to suffer, no amount of begging will get you to fuck me. I’m showing you that I understand you do exactly what you say, and that I respect you. I’m not a stupid, egotistical cunt who thinks she can wiggle her bottom and have any man at her feet. I know I have to wait for your big, beautiful cock until you want to give it to me and my pussy will have to go hungry until you want to give me a good fucking,” I said.

Amanda gathered up Mr. Stoller’s clothes and helped him get dressed. I found my own clothing and began dressing myself. Mr. S. grabbed my half-slip and threw it in the trash. “No more false modesty Kandy. That includes panties. When you come to meetings with me, don’t wear panties. You are the Dance Team Manager. If I want to call you my Slut Team Manager, you’ll just smile and say, “Yes, Mr. S.” Since you’ll be finding me slut dancers to please me, you need to dress to please me too,” He said. Amanda scrawled an address and phone number on my pad. The PBO smiled at me, and walked back to his office, with Amanda fondling his dick through his slacks as they walked.

When I checked out with the AA, she gave me a disc that had both audio and video of the meeting, so I wouldn’t miss anything, in case I was too aroused to take good notes. Of course, I knew Mr. S. wanted me to watch the video a lot and come to the next meeting so horny I would beg him to fuck me. I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself get carried away, and I’d only watch it to check my notes.

I got started working on my deliverables even before I got home. I was riding in a team car, with a driver, so I called Lola and explained what kind of costume I needed. Lola said, “Kandy, doesn’t The League have some kind of rule about the dance team not dressing obscenely?”

“I’m sure they do Lola. Please find out what it is, and design and make me a costume that is right on the line. Make sure it is not like the L.A. Babes, where you KNOW there will never be a nip slip or a crotch shot. In fact, design this uniform so everyone is pretty sure there WILL be at least one wardrobe malfunction every game. That way they will be paying attention and watching for bare female flesh slipping out. Use my measurements. The squad is going to be a lot leaner and fitter this year. No more swinging udders. I need the two prototypes ready for a final fitting for me and my lead dancer by Sunday night, so we can wear it at the Monday meeting. Pull it off for me Lola, and I’ll go down on you or you can wait until I have my team selected, and you can have your pick of my girls. Of course, if you pull it off, Babes, you get the contract to do all the unis for the squad this season,” I said

Next, I called The Boz. “Hey, big guy, it’s Tiny Dancer. You remember how Juliette and I rocked your world last year? ... Yeah, I thought you’d remember me.

“Listen, the new management wants to make sure you are happy and they want to help you keep out of trouble. Tell me what it will take to keep you home at night and make you a happy camper, ‘cause she’ll be your roomie on the road too,” I said.

I listened to his list, then I replied, “No, if you have a home girl and an away gal, you’ll get all psycho jealous worrying about what your home girl is up to when you are on the road, and what your away girl is doing when you are home. You get ONE girl, but I swear, I’m picking her myself. She will be so fucking awesome, you may end up wanting to marry her. I’ll deliver her in person, and if she can’t do better than me taking care of that monster of yours, I’ll swallow you and let you fill up my tummy with your hot, creamy stuff. By the way, do you care what race? ... Wow, you are a deep and thoughtful man. So a Black chick, with my figure and ability to swallow your trouser snake. No big fat butt, no silicone, no flopping jugs, and you only like to butt fuck as a change of pace.

“OK, Boz, I’m bringing the top three to see you on Wednesday. Do you want to audition them one at a time, or does your legend require all three at once? ... OK, Got it. Plan to be home Wednesday and get your world rocked. I recommend no partying and no jerking off starting NOW!”

My next call was to the National HQ of my sorority. I got the chapter president’s numbers for all the schools with a high percentage of Black Sisters and a rep for the best-looking girls. I also had a list of all the recent graduate Sisters looking for work.

Amanda had scrawled, “NO panties!” on my note pad, so it reminded me that Monday would be an adventure. I was glad the new PBO’s sexist and sexual orientation resulted in mostly young, good looking women in the office. My short skirt would barely cover my pussy, and Amanda’s note told me I wouldn’t even have the minimal coverage panties provided.

Next, we went to Amanda’s tailor and got measured for a new suit. I knew the skirt would be short enough that it would keep my pussy perpetually juicy from where the hem would rub on my thighs. Not being allowed to wear a slip or even panties would make me itchy from the wool fabric. My body would undoubtedly transfer that itchy feeling to my pussy and make my cunt drool even more than usual. In addition, the suit Amanda was wearing was a cross between a music video sexy teacher or sexy business woman and a naughty school girl uniform. Thinking about how I would look in the new suit was turning my pussy into a swamp.

I guess I should tell you a little about myself now. I have been doing gymnastics and dance since I was five and bugged the shit out of my mom. My family was lower middle class, but my mom wasn’t a psycho. I never fit in with the rich girls, for the same reasons Tonya Harding was always an outsider, but I didn’t let it bother me. I wasn’t a favorite of the judges or a darling of the media, so I was never a big winner or an Olympic contender. I never expected that. I was hella cute, but there were other girls who did better routines. I didn’t have the gymnastics equivalent of a triple jump, so I never expected people to just hand me a trophy or a medal for a second-rate performance.

Thankfully, my mom wasn’t a psycho, so I wasn’t emotionally messed up. I did learn about common sense from my parents, so I didn’t fall for abusive, delusional guys. I definitely didn’t ask someone to whack another girl on the knee before a competition.

I looked like Tara Lipinski as a kid, and as a young woman, but I didn’t have her squeaky-clean image. I know those are figure skaters, but they are just the best examples I can think of right now.

I have always found boys much more interesting and satisfying than fingers, girls, plastic toys, or industrial strength electronics.

I am a cute girl. Just look up pics of Tara Lipinski, look for one of her wearing a Tee shirt that says Hockey on it and wearing these really cute pastel blue short shorts. That’s my twin. I swear. Well, her breasts might be a tiny bit bigger than mine, but I have the same kind of dancer, gymnast, figure skater, or athlete’s body. My hair is about the same shade of blonde. I keep mine cut shorter now, more pixie-ish, because I don’t think long hair put in a bun or something looks good on a dancer. I used to keep my hair long, but the more management and choreography duties I picked up, the less time I had for keeping my long hair beautiful and approaching perfection, so I got my pixie cut about playoff time last season.

Of course, in the office I just want to project competence and getting results, but in my very limited personal life, I want to project a pixie image to guys. I’m the gal who is fun and care free. I have a good time, and give a guy a REALLY good time. No fuss, no muss, well except for wherever he gives me his load, smirk-smirk, wink-wink. Definitely no drama or emotional stuff.

“I haven’t got time for the pain,” as Carly Simon so eloquently sang. Now IF I ever find a guy who makes me feel all tingly and gets me misty eyed, I will make him mine in nanoseconds, before he knows what hit him, but he will NEVER feel like there was drama or anything but happy, excited feelings about being with me.

So back to my history. I was not careful enough, and I got tagged with the slut label someplace between eleven and thirteen. That meant I wasn’t ever going to be a winner at any major competition. I had plenty of judges try to get me to take care of them, but I always liked guys my own age, and I knew those old men would never really vote for me, so I just said, “No!”

It was usually too tough to find gymnastic or dance guys that weren’t gay, and I always liked finding local talent at the mall anyway. I was VERY careful about preventing pregnancy and making sure I didn’t catch something nasty.

When the seriously competitive girls realized I wasn’t a threat and wouldn’t stab them in the back, they relaxed, and now I have LOTS of friends who have my type of figure and can look great moving on the dance floor or anywhere else.

Mom was a factory worker, but she never spouted racist crap, so I have friends of all different colors.

When I was fourteen, I was four feet, five inches tall, weighed seventy-five pounds, and my measurements were 26 AA - 18 - 22. Now I’m twenty-four, five feet tall, weigh eighty-five pounds, and my measurements are 30 A - 21 - 26. I look somewhere between a young woman and a teenage gymnast. I’m not every guy’s cup of tea, but if you like Tiny Dancers, I’m your girl.

Monday night I was on a red-eye to Miami to meet with ten recent grad sorority sisters and five friends from competition days. To give The Boz what he wanted: all of them were Black.

The team booked me a small conference room at the hotel the team used. I got in so late that I only used my room to take a shower and fix my face and hair. I can sleep all I want when I’m dead, right?

It was pretty impressive walking into a room with fifteen gorgeous young Black women, all with gymnast or dancer’s bodies.

I went to the head of the room, and I said, “Hi, I am Kandy Keeter, in case you don’t know me. I am Dance Team Director for the Las Vegas Stars Basketball Club. I have the responsibility for recruiting some very special young women who have the potential to become full time team employees if they contribute to the club. Specifically, I’m here to recruit dancers for my squad and candidates to be player personal assistants.

“Most of you know about my bad reputation. If you share my enthusiasm for having fun with attractive, fit males, you might be an ideal candidate. If you look down on me because of my interests and enthusiasm, then you probably should leave now.”

None of the women left. I continued, “I know the job market is tough out there, but I have to warn you that while I’m not here to recruit sex workers, sex is most definitely part of these job descriptions, so once again, if you are saving yourself or have religious objections or something, you really ought to leave.”

One of the women, well-known for being vocally religious, got up and left.

I smiled at the fourteen remaining women and said, “That’s OK, she probably wasn’t pretty enough anyway.”

There was polite laughter, and fourteen questioning faces were looking up at me. I went on, “Our club has some really good players, but our management has noticed that a lot of players do a terrible job picking girlfriends. We want to shift the paradigm and hire a personal assistant for each unmarried player. She will need to be a motivator, helper, trainer, confidant, shrink, substance abuse preventer, accountant, protector against crooked agents as well as greedy friends and relatives, and a benign master manipulator all at the same time. She’ll have to do all the things a successful wife does. She will travel with her player, and be his roommate on the road. To make all of that work, she needs to be beautiful, like all of you ladies. She must keep herself photo ready all the time, keep a drop-dead gorgeous figure and have a press-proof past. Most importantly, she must look and act the part of the girlfriend of a professional basketball star. To do your job, you will need to keep your player completely sexually satisfied, with no drama, no fuss, no muss. You will make yourself so indispensable to him, he won’t know how to get along without you. You will never make him worry or feel upset. If he’s in a good mood, it’s going to be a lot easier to convince him that buying a tank is not a good idea.

“What’s in it for you, aside from a nice paycheck? Well, if you like sex, you get a chance to have all you want with a professional athlete. Even better, it will be your regular gig, and not just a one-night stand. Many of these guys will turn into fine gentlemen if they have the right lady gently guiding them. They are young, strong, and if you do your job, they will be in top condition with loads of endurance. Most of them are generously endowed, although I haven’t personally inspected all of them.

“The gentleman I’m recruiting for is a Black man who specifically requested me to find a Black woman to be his assistant.

“I can speak from personal experience when I say he is more than generously endowed. Lesser women would say he is “scary big.” He is definitely a gentleman, kind, considerate, gentle when a girl needs that, and skillful. He is no dummy, and the girl who keeps him interested will find herself richly rewarded. He’s good looking enough to make a girl’s heart go pitter-pat, so you might find yourself deciding you care about keeping the guy from getting ripped off, and you want to make sure he has a nice big retirement fund to share with you.

“I’m going to do individual interviews after a five-minute bathroom break, so if you are still interested, come see me. If you are only interested in the Dance Team, please take a break and in about an hour, come back in. If you decide this isn’t for you, and you want to leave, please remember you signed a confidentiality and non-disclosure agreement. Let me assure you my employer is not shy about litigation. They have the nastiest sharks in the ocean on the payroll and management figures they might as well let the sharks bite, since they get paid anyway.”

I went to the restroom, then came back and sat down in one of two comfortable chairs, facing each other, in one corner of the room. The first girl was one I’d known from competitions. I smiled as she carefully sat down, keeping her skirt covering her knees in a lady-like way.