Chapter 3

“We already finished, Nana,” said Chastity, smoothly. “He gave me lots and lots of yummy orgasms.”

“Good. He brought a condom, didn’t he? It’s not right to make the woman supply the condom.”

“Everything was perfect, Nana,” said Chastity. “Are you hungry? Let’s make some supper.”

“I should get back to work,” said Bob.

“Oh? He has a job? Better and better, Dear,” nattered the old woman.

Bob followed them to the kitchen, where Chastity turned and embraced him.

“I wish I could invite you to stay for supper, but it wouldn’t be a good idea,” she whispered.

“I understand,” he said. “At least I know where you live, now.”

“If you come here she might do anything,” said the girl. “I’ll try to come see you, instead. Where do you live, by the way?”

He took a business card from his wallet and wrote his address on the back. She gave him a hug and kiss that were both entirely too intimate to be shared between a daughter and her father, and he left.

He felt like he’d lost twenty pounds, and was ten years younger.

She did not show up at his house the next day, and the lure of seeing her dance was too strong, so he went back to the club. He sat there for hours, and watched her dance two sets. During both of them she came to dance right in front of him. Her dancing was incredibly erotic when she was in front of him, and he found himself being crowded against by other men, all reaching toward her eagerly, with money in their hands.

The next night he told his server he wanted a private dance with her. Again, he was led to a painted doorway, behind which was his daughter. She was dressed as a school girl, with twin ponytails, or dog ears.

“You didn’t tell her how you wanted me dressed,” she said, as she went to the wall and punched the button to get the music started.

“I don’t care,” he said, letting his hands hang, like he knew he was supposed to.

“Aww, you’re so sweet,” she said.

“You haven’t come to see me,” he said.

“I’m laying the groundwork,” she said.

“Laying the groundwork? For what?”

Rather than explain, she said. “Just be patient. Please?”

“Of course,” he said. “For years I didn’t even know where you were. I can be patient.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Her blouse came undone and gaped, to reveal she wasn’t wearing a bra. She toyed with her plaid skirt, teasing him with glimpses that showed she wasn’t wearing panties, either.

“It doesn’t take long to do a strip tease when you’re not wearing underwear,” he pointed out.

“I tease other men. Why would I want to tease you?”

He pondered that. There could be multiple answers to that question. She took off the blouse, though, and began playing with her breasts, so he stopped thinking about that and just enjoyed the show.

“Don’t you worry that your friends from school might see you dance?” he asked.

“Everybody gets carded at the entrance,” she said. “Buster might not be too careful about the ages of his dancers, but he’s death on fake IDs at the door. The bouncers are trained to spot fake IDs, and they have the authority to turn away anybody they want to, whether they have a reason or not. There’s one other girl my age dancing here, and the last thing she wants is for anybody at school to find out about it, either.”

“I guess that’s good,” he said.

“Yeah. Boys at school are bad enough as it is. The last thing they need to know is that I do this.”

“This”, at the moment, was dropping the skirt and moving to rub her breasts in his face. The urge to try to suck a nipple was so strong that he had to close his eyes. She backed up and all but masturbated in front of him.

“Okay,” he panted. “You win. I’ve had enough.”

“You make me feel good,” she said.

“I shouldn’t,” he replied.

She leaned over to brush her lips across his and then stopped dancing and turned the music off. The door opened, he stood, adjusted his boner, and walked into the dark hallway. At the curtained door the bouncer put a hand on his chest.

“Buster would like to talk to you,” said the man.

Buster turned out to be a rail-thin man with longish hair and a gold front tooth. A tattoo of some kind showed on his neck, above the collar of his shirt, but it was just a mass of dark blue that Bob couldn’t identify. The “meeting” took place at the bar, which Buster leaned against. He wasn’t drinking.

“I’ll get right to the point,” he said. “I always take an interest when a customer and one of my dancers get too friendly, and you have gotten mighty friendly with Trudy.”

“Have I?”

“You sit here for hours, waiting to see her dance. You don’t drink a lot, by the way. And she almost never does private dances, but when you come along, suddenly she’s all about rubbing her tits all over your face.”

“There’s an explanation, but you probably wouldn’t believe it,” said Bob.

“Try me.”

“Let me ask you something, first,” said Bob. “Why do you care?”

“I care about all my girls,” he said. “Girls who want to strip are a dime a dozen, but good dancers are rare. Trudy’s one of the good ones. She makes money and she makes me money.”

“Are you saying she’s a hooker?” asked Bob, tensing.

“No!” said Buster, who suddenly looked around, alertly. “That shit don’t happen here. If any of them are doing that, it’s on their own time and I got nothing to do with it. This is a strictly legit strip club, and that’s all. Are you a cop? Is that why you been hanging around so much?”

“I thought you liked regulars,” said Bob.

“I like regulars who drink,” said Buster.

“Of course,” said Bob. “I’m her father. My ex got full custody five years ago and I haven’t seen her since. I discovered she was working here by accident. She’s only seventeen, you know.”

“No she’s not,” said Buster, calmly. “She’s completely legal and I have the records to prove it. I even have a copy of her government issued identification card.”

“You have a copy of her identification card, but it wasn’t issued by any government.”

“Well, since you didn’t bring the cops with you, I’m assuming you’ve realized how grown up your little girl has gotten. You’re not going to make trouble, are you?”

“No, I’m not going to rock the boat. She’ll be legal in a few weeks, and she likes working here. The private dances were the only way we could talk. She said she can’t leave with me or it will cause trouble.”

Buster beamed.

“So I assume I’m not banned?” said Bob.

“Perish the thought. I can understand why a man would want to keep an eye on his daughter.” Buster grinned. “Most fathers don’t keep this close an eye on their daughters, but she’s a good kid. If you’re not going to rock the boat, I won’t, either.” He glanced at the bartender. “Marvin, give the man whatever he wants, but just this once.” He looked back at Bob. “You need to drink more.”

“You care about my daughter, but not my liver?” Bob smiled.

“I don’t have to look at your liver,” said Buster.

He turned and left. Bob looked at the bartender, who was already adding an ounce of Scotch to the Drambuie that was already in the glass.

“I knew there was something up with you,” said the man. “Makes sense, now.”

“It makes sense that a man comes to watch his daughter strip?”

“You ain’t like the other horn dogs who come in here and drool over the girls,” said the bartender. “You ain’t here to look at her body. You’re here to make sure she’s okay.”

“Don’t be too sure about the not looking at her body thing,” sighed Bob.

The bartender shrugged. He’d seen so many naked women that nudity had become routine. Bob had heard that, at nudist colonies, erections were rare. He’d heard people got used to nakedness and it was no longer sexual for them.

Bob was pretty sure he wasn’t there, yet.

He got her schedule, and only went to the club on nights she danced. Once a week he got a private dance and she always danced for him as if he were any other customer. Except, of course, she didn’t do private dances for other customers. He tipped her well, and he started ordering non-alcoholic drinks. It didn’t matter if they had alcohol in them or not. All drinks were expensive at Buster’s. More than once Bob wondered if Starbucks’s pricing scheme was based on Buster’s drink prices. Or vice versa.

He was there, one night, when a problem developed that brought more changes to their already complicated lives. It happened to be a Friday night, and the place was packed.

Two men got rowdy while she was on stage. They yelled that they wanted to fuck her, and said they’d pull a train on her until she passed out. One tried to grab her ankle, but she avoided him. A bouncer arrived at stage side and gave them a warning.

“Fuck you,” sneered one of them. “We’re buying drinks and tipping the dancers. In fact, we want a private dance with this slut. Set it up for us, pretty boy.”

The bouncer disappeared and Chastity finished her set. Nobody came to get the men and they rose, going toward the curtain. An altercation ensued and both were thrown out of the club.

When Bob left, that night, he happened to notice a lighter flicker inside a car in the parking lot as a cigarette was lit. He got in his own car and sat there. It was just a hunch, but it paid off. One of the two men who had been ejected got out of the car and went to the rear of it to take a piss right there in the parking lot.

Chastity drove Mona’s car to get to the club, and while the employee parking lot was separate, it was still visible to patrons if they parked at one end of the customer parking area. So Bob saw Chastity leave the building and walk toward her grandmother’s car. He also saw the two men get out of their car and start moving purposefully toward his daughter.

He got there about the same time they did.

The confrontation was short. Bob had been out of the Marine Corps for four and a half years, but he was still in very good shape. He was, however, a little rusty, in terms of his unarmed combat expertise. He rendered both men unconscious, but one of them got in a swipe with a knife that sliced a six inch incision into Bob’s stomach, just above his belt.

He didn’t know all the girls were issued panic buttons, and that Chastity had pressed hers as soon as the men approached. By the time he was finished, two bouncers arrived on the scene.

“You’re hurt!” wailed Chastity, pointing at the widening stain on his shirt.

“It’s nothing,” he said, applying direct pressure.

“I’ll call 911,” said a bouncer.

“Don’t,” said Bob. “We don’t need any cops here, looking too closely at her employment records.” Chastity was still a few weeks away from being eighteen.

“Oh, yeah,” said the bouncer, confirming in Bob’s mind that everybody was aware that Buster “fudged” on the girls’ ages sometimes. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ve got first aid stuff at home,” said Bob. “It’s just a scratch.”

“I’ll go with him,” said Chastity.

Everybody in the club also now knew that “Trudy” was Bob’s daughter.

“We’ll take care of these two,” said the other bouncer.

Bob wondered if they were the ones who would need an ambulance, later on, when they were found, no doubt somewhere far away from the club.

“Don’t kill them,” he said.

“Why not?” asked one of the bouncer’s carelessly.

Chastity drove them to his house in Nana’s car. He told her not to speed, and that the last thing they needed was mister nice policeman pulling her over for some traffic infraction and seeing Bob bleeding.

When they got inside she peeled his shirt back and gasped.

“That is not a scratch!” moaned Chastity. “You need to go to the hospital, Daddy,” she panted.

“No I don’t. If I go to a hospital they’ll want to know how it happened, and the cops will get called and they’ll want to interview everybody. Do you want there to be a police report where the exotic dancer witness turns out to be the underage daughter of the victim?”

“No,” she admitted, reluctantly.

“You need to see how deep it is,” he said, trying to think of something else.

“This is bad enough, thank you very much,” she replied.

“Just pull the skin apart gently and see how far in it goes,” he said.

“How am I supposed to judge?” she whined.

“Tug it open look and tell me what you see,” he said. “Just do it and get it over with. Next week this will all be a dim memory.”

She leaned over. He could see her biting her lower lip between pearly, white teeth. He could also see down inside of her plain, white blouse, where her hanging, naked breasts looked luscious. He felt his penis bob up and down, one time, as muscles there involuntarily clenched.

She winced as she pulled the edges of the wound apart.

“It isn’t very deep,” she said. “Maybe a quarter of an inch? I see something white, but it’s starting to bleed again.”

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Dancing For Daddy

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