Chapter 65: Stop the Traffic

I WAS ON THE HUNT ONCE—this must have been back in the eighties, before everything got so technologically sophisticated. I headed for the Pussy Cat Lounge in Biloxi, Mississippi. I’d tracked a series of kidnappings to the town and was looking in all the low-life places I could find.

Let me start this back a step with a disclaimer. I have nothing against strip clubs, strippers, exotic dancers, or sex workers of any sort. The arts have been around for the entire four millennia plus that I’ve been alive. And I’ve met some truly wonderful entertainers in locations around the world. When a club is on the up and up—drug free, coercion free, and the performers come to work of their own free will, are well-compensated, and protected—I’m happy to let them be in business and provide this ancient service to humanity ... mostly men. But when I find performers who are hooked on drugs, forced into prostitution, and generally mistreated, I get very upset.

Now I had nothing directly against the Pussy Cat Club. Perhaps it was a little seedier than some and run-down, but it had a long history in the town. When I got there and paid my five dollar cover, I was ‘encouraged’ to buy a beer as well. They came two at a time. I carried them to an empty table near the back of the room to get a feel for what was going on.

Entertainers came to the stage, danced and took off their clothes, and then made the rounds of the customers to collect tips and offer private dances or just to sit and chat for a bit. One dancer, Noel, came to the stage and was particularly good. And good-looking. It was always hard to tell how tall a girl was with the platform shoes that were fashionable on stage, but she was nicely shaped. As she revealed more and more of herself, I saw the shape was nicer and nicer. And it looked like she was performing just for me. She constantly looked across the room at me and was sure to turn so I got a good view of what she was uncovering. I think that must be a real art of strippers--to make that kind of connection with all the men in the room. I assumed.

She finished her tour on stage and slipped backstage to dress again and then came out to tour the floor and collect tips from the guys who weren’t sitting up at the tip rail during the performance. I watched her out of the corner of my eye and eventually she got to me. I thought I must be the last guy in the room she talked to. I held a ten up and she pulled her panties away from her waist.

“Why don’t you put that right here in my moneybox,” she whispered. She had a wad of cash in her fingers and several bills in the waistband of her panties or her garter, but I hadn’t seen anyone else tuck a bill quite so intimately into her moneybox.

“Thanks for a great performance,” I said.

“I’m glad you liked it. I did it just for you.” Now that was a good line. There were probably thirty guys in the club at the time. Several were in uniform. “I got here at the same time you did and saw you head in the door. I thought to myself, ‘That guy is mine tonight.’ I even warned the other girls off. I want to celebrate my birthday with you.”

“Well, happy birthday,” I said. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Oh, yes. I had a sip of my birthday present from the girls in the dressing room. So how about Jack on the rocks?” She flagged a waitress who hurried to our table and took the order. A drink for a girl was twice the price as one for a man. Noel whispered to the waitress and she giggled. “I told her to tell Will at the bar not to water it down. I want a good strong one. They do that, you know. It’s really nice because a girl can accept a drink or two from a guy and not get uncontrollably drunk. But I want to celebrate and let go.”

When the drink arrived, I gave the waitress the money and a good tip. Noel called her close and gave her a kiss. The waitress squeezed her boobs.

“You behave tonight,” she said. “I’ll be watching.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport,” Noel responded. “But thanks.”

“I’m glad you all look out for each other,” I said.

“Yeah. There are a lot of weirdos in the world. And some strange things going down. We can’t be too careful. But we like to have fun, too, and I want you to be my fun. Want a dance?”

“Sure,” I said. I pushed my chair back expecting the usual table side dance. Instead, Noel grasped my hand.

“Bring our drinks. We’ll go to the quiet area.”

The quiet area proved to be an elevated floor at the back of the bar with a curtained railing about three feet high. Along the wall there was a long bench seat with tables spaced six or eight feet apart. Two girls were down to nothing but a G-string as they worked a single guy over pretty well. When I sat, I noticed the riff-raff on the main floor couldn’t easily see up and into the private dance area. We could be seen from the sound booth, though. Safety.

“Twenty,” she said. I quickly grasped that she needed twenty dollars for the dance. It was twice the price of the table dances on the main floor. “Up here, we get three nice intimate songs and then we can sit and rest for a while. Okay?”

I nodded and when the music started for the next song, she began her dance. She was sensuous, and piece by piece her costume came off until she was in just her G-string and was grinding against my cock. I was glad I’d worn loose fitting slacks.

When she finished her dance, she did not sit next to me, but sat on my lap. Then she started fiddling with her underbra. In this club, the dancers wore ‘a costume,’ top and bottom. Under it, they wore a very flimsy, see-through bra and a G-string that was barely there. On stage, they went completely nude, but in private dances, they were required to keep the G-string on.

“After a dance, we’re supposed to at least put our underbra on. They watch to make sure we get them on within one song after the set,” Noel said. “So, I’m going to fiddle around with this thing for another minute or two. No sense hiding the girls from you before I have to.”

I agreed completely. The girls were two nice-sized snowy mounds capped with rigidly hard nipples that had recently been brushed against my lips. I’d love to take that a little further, but the men were not allowed to touch the girls. The ladies could touch anything they wanted, but not so the men.

Eventually, those sensuous points sort of disappeared beneath the bra, even though Noel continued to wiggle her mostly bare butt against me.

“We’re going to auction the lot of the girls for private dances, now,” the DJ said.

“Oh, shit,” Noel said. “I don’t want to do this.”

“Then don’t.”

“All dancers to the stage for the auction. All dancers.”

“Can you give me a fifty?” she asked. “I promise, I’ll make it worth it.” Wow! That was a steep increase. But frankly, I wasn’t in a hurry to lose her warm company in my lap. I handed her a fifty from my pocket.

“All dancers for the auction. Noel, Amber, Starlight. To the stage.” The two dancers who had been dancing for the guy a few seats down from us got up and headed for the stage. The guy slowly followed, adjusting his trousers. Noel held up the fifty and waved it.

“I don’t have to go up if I’ve already got a premium customer,” she said. She relaxed onto my lap. “Now we can just wait here until the auction is over and then have your dances.”

She picked up my hand from where it was sitting beside me on the bench and held it. Then she explained the rules as the DJ auctioned off the girls and guys bid for their favorites. First high-bidder got his choice of the girls. The next high bidder got second choice. They kept the auction going until the last girl went for ten dollars and just led her guy back to his table to dance for him there. On the main floor, the girls didn’t remove either their underbras or G-strings.

“Here’s the deal, Bob,” Noel explained. “I’m not a whore. I don’t fuck the customers and you aren’t allowed to touch me. Unless I put your hand somewhere. Anywhere I put your hand, you can enjoy touching, but keep it subtle. I’m not going to get your dick out and play with it or suck it or fuck it. If you come in your pants, that’s fine. But like if I put your hand here on my stomach, it’s okay for you to stroke and squeeze my stomach.” She demonstrated and I felt the muscles rippling beneath her skin. “If I put your hand on my butt, you can squeeze and pat it. Don’t spank. I get really angry when I’m spanked.” She demonstrated by moving my other hand to her butt, which I thoroughly enjoyed squeezing. “If I put your hand on my thigh ... well, you get the idea, don’t you?” she said while guiding my hand to stroke up and down her thigh, moving it slightly to the inside. Then she slipped her hand between us and gave my cock a squeeze through my trousers. “I’m glad you’re getting turned on, because so am I.”

Yes, she was a real seducer. This was already worth the fifty dollars. The auction ended and the dancers moved to various stations with their customers. Then the music started. It was a three-song set again, which meant about ten minutes. This time, however, Noel wasn’t wearing her costume, so the first piece she lost was the underbra and she rubbed her breasts up my chest then whispered in my ear.

“I haven’t been with any other guys tonight, so if you happen to get my nip in your mouth, it won’t be like you’re kissing every other guy in the club.” She nibbled a little on my ear and stuck her tongue in it while I continued to stroke her thigh and her butt.

Then she turned to face me and I dropped my hands to the side rather than try to move them around with her. She straddled me and moved my hands to the outside of her thighs as she leaned into me. One of her pert titties made contact with my lips and I followed what I thought was her instructions and stuck my tongue out to lick it. She sighed and shifted to the other side. I gave that tit equal treatment and added a little suction between my lips. Noel began to gyrate on my cock, sliding up and down with just my trousers and her G-string between us. Then she shifted her position slightly and had one leg between mine and the other outside. She started rubbing up and down on my leg.

“I don’t usually get so turned on when I’m dancing,” she said. “But it’s my birthday.” I figured that was as good an excuse as any. Especially when she moved my right hand from her thigh and set it palm-up on my thigh. Her gyrations moved her pussy ever closer to my waiting fingers and soon, she was riding on my hand. When the third number began, she reached down and pulled the G-string aside and I felt the wet evidence that she was indeed turned on.

She’d told me I could move my hand around the area she put it, so I did, sliding my fingers up into her moist channel and then out to find her clit and begin squeezing and circling it.

“Oh, yeah. You know what to do there,” she gasped. She returned her face to my ear and began nibbling again. “Do it. Make me come.”

I did. I manipulated her clit and plunged into her pussy, hearing her get closer and closer to her peak. Then the music ended.

“Almost. Almost. Keep going. I’m almost there.” It took only a couple more flicks of her clit until she gasped and moaned into my ear. Then she quickly shoved my hand out of her pussy and repositioned her panties. She began working on her bras and tap pants. She stood up and leaned in to kiss my other ear.

“Thank you, Bob. That was a great birthday present. I need to go catch a shower and get ready for my time on stage. I can’t get out of that. Enjoy the rest of the show and your night. But you’ll never meet anyone else like me.”

Well, she was right about that. I returned to a table on the main floor and ordered another beer.

It was about midnight that I saw what looked like a signal passed between a couple of tables. The men at both tables stood and headed for the door.

“Don’t leave now, boys,” the DJ announced as some others started to rise. “It’s shift change and to start things off we have fresh talent on the main stage. This is Darnelle!” A blonde stepped onto the stage and began dancing energetically as a few of the men sat back down. I’d seen what I needed to, though. The coincidence of the table I was watching leaving right at the shift change got me moving.

Outside, I didn’t see the men. I stepped around a corner into the shadow and released the ninja priestesses. I couldn’t imagine the guys trying to snatch the entire shift of over a dozen dancers, but I could well imagine they’d try for one or two. The priestesses disappeared into the night in all directions. I just watched. It wasn’t long. I saw the girls start to leave through the stage door. A bouncer accompanied them to see that they’d all make it safely to their cars. Then two shots rang out and the bouncer fell. Instead of running back inside like they should have, the girls all knelt around the bouncer and I saw a dark van move toward them. One of the girls finally ran inside, presumably to call an ambulance and police. One backed away and turned to run to her car. That was when the van moved, cutting the dancer off from the others. The door on the far side of the van opened and the dancer was grabbed. The girls around the bouncer didn’t even notice. The van pulled out of the lot and the tires squealed. Then it came to a sudden stop.