Chapter 21

“I want my wife and daughter to dance, but I don’t want them to get huge egos. I don’t want them to feel like superstars,” I tried to bring up the relationship that we had gingerly. I didn’t want to blow Barbie’s mind. She shrugged and said that was fine but that most strippers eventually think that their shit doesn’t stink and that they are god’s gift to the world.

“My husband is being kind because this is going to sound weird,” my wife had remained quiet and listened to all of Barbie’s lessons on salesmanship and performance. This was the first time she had said a word to her. “We are being punished. My husband has strict rules for us at home. I think he wants us to have rules here too.”

Barbie seemed dumbfounded but intrigued. She looked at my wife and asked what kind of rules.

“We normally wear either French maid costumes, or nothing at all and chastity belts so that we can’t play with ourselves without permission. We aren’t allowed to sit down at the table. We have to stand and eat. This just started recently, and it’s kind of a long story why.”

“Ooh, I like long stories, but when you are sitting in here, you aren’t making money. That’s why you picked the name Spunky and Gobbler, isn’t it? I thought it was your pet goldfish’s names or something.”

My wife chuckled and nodded like she understood. I was fascinated at how tolerant my wife was all about everything. I would have expected her to balk at some point. This was not the Karen I thought I knew at all. This was an entirely different side to the wife I’d been married to for years.

“I think I know what you need. I could make sure your ladies do as they are told for 20% off the top of what they earn before payouts and tips, and obviously, that would be in ADDITION to what they normally tip me out.”

I wanted to think about the offer. It was exactly what I wanted. I needed someone on the inside like Melody and Dave was at Hooters. I just didn’t want to commit to anything so quickly.

Barbie is an incredibly good, high-pressure salesman. I got the impression that she had been an amazing dancer at one time, and then she got old and fat, and now she was relegated to being a house mom. She made it pretty clear that this was a one-time offer and that if I thought about it – she’d rethink how much she wanted if she wanted to do it at all.

We sent the girls out to work while we worked out the rules and negotiated. “You will dance completely naked. If anyone asks you why you will tell them you are being punished for misbehaving.”

“Yes,” my wife stripped and left her clothes with me. They left with a single garter and shoes. I told them to return anytime they do a dance or go on stage and have me hold the money.

My biggest concern was how much I could trust Barbie to actually handle their money. That was an unknown. Barbie didn’t offer any guarantees, but she told me that we could end the arrangement at any time if it was not mutually beneficial. “If you aren’t making any money, then this ain’t no good. These rules better drive them to make more money, right?”

“Yes,” I said. I actually didn’t care about the money as much as I did try to keep them on their toes. However, I could see the benefit of rules that kept them busy.

Here is what we worked out: I will refer to them as “strippers.”

The only time the strippers are allowed to sit down is with a customer that invites them to sit. They should always try to sit on his knee, lap, or even his hand if he doesn’t offer his knee. “Just sit right down like you own that hand. It keeps him from getting up. He won’t move it, baby,” Barbie suggested.

“Strippers must be on time to the stage, and should dance close with the other strippers if they will let them.”

“The only time they are allowed back in the dressing room is a brief bathroom break, touch up, and to hand over money. No more than 5 minutes every hour at most.”

Barbie didn’t feel comfortable laying out guidelines for dances, but I did. The strippers had to allow fingers in any hole, any touch and could blow guys or jerk them off but not fuck them. I had no way of being certain.

Barbie said she’d take care of ensuring they eat and properly hydrate between sets by drinking water, and she’d keep them on their toes.

“This is going to be fun,” she rubbed her hands together in anticipation. I assumed there would have been more rules, but that was all we could think of. I asked what she would do if the girls were late to the stage.

“What can I do? Tell you when you come to pick them up?”

“You could spank them,” I said.

“Oh, I used to get paid a lot of money to deliver spankings. That doesn’t do anything for me, baby,” Barbie laughed. “Now, having them come eat Miss Barbie out or suck on these delicious toes. That may be more my style.”

“You’d let them eat your pussy?”

Barbie arched an eyebrow and gave me a knowing look. “There is a lot of pussy to eat, and it won’t lick itself. We had some girls in here that were like this. White slaves belonged to the Iron Horseman club. The same one Jack belongs to. Dirty little mamas that no how to behave. I take it then you are okay if I were to make them clean the locker room up at the end of the night? Stuff like that?”

“Yes,” I agreed with a smile.

“You better not get cold feet, now. If you guys get me all excited and then never show up again, I am going to be really disappointed.”

I left the locker room and found a table. I explained the new rules to my wife and daughter, and they didn’t complain, negotiate or even seem all that surprised. They accepted the rules and got the right to work. I felt like they were working as a team in the club instead of two dancers, and that was to be expected. They didn’t know anyone else, and they stuck together for mutual protection.

The club had at least sixty people now, and seats around the stage were filling up. The music was pumping, and lights were flashing. It was very loud. I watched as my wife went from customer to customer and sat on his lap. She was completely nude. She’d smile, whisper something in his ear, and then call Heather over to them.

In a few minutes, he would nod, and they would both escort him back to the private booths. The customer had to buy a wrist band, and usually, they would be in there for four or five songs.

The girls went on stage promptly, danced with each other, and sometimes they other strippers, and by midnight there was no way you could tell they were new girls.

I checked in with Barbie. My wife and daughter were drinking bottled water while she coached them on what they were doing right and what they could be doing more of.

“Six hundred dollars isn’t too shabby for the first night, but they’ll make twice that even on slow nights once they get regulars,” she told me.

“March in place while you drink your water,” I instructed. I told Karen to bring her knees up higher. She had a fine sheen of sweat on her body like body oil.

“Okay, I like that” Barbie admired the instructions I gave them.

“We need you girls to sell a few champagne rooms. You’ve been doing a lot of double-dances together, but guys get sticker shock on having two women in the champagne room at once. The goal is to get in, get them off, and then talk to them until they get bored and want to leave. You don’t want to stay for the whole half hour or hour.”

I wanted them to give the men their money’s worth.

“If you finish early, I want you to squat deeply, with your mouth open wide, put your hands behind your head, and offer to masturbate for them. If they allow it, then you can play with yourself. I want you to give the customers all the time they paid for, and if not, I want you to come back to the dressing room and tell Barbie that you failed to keep their interest. I’ll get your butt plugs. You can wear those and stand in the corner like you do at home!”

“You’ve got butt plugs?” Barbie smiled. She wanted me to bring them in and show her. I went outside and brought back the simple black latex plugs. “Anytime they misbehave or seem like they have too much time on their hands, you can make them wear the plugs back here.”

“What about out on the floor?” Barbie smiled wickedly.

“Would Jack allow that?”

“Jack ain’t going to be looking up their asses, and these are small, but yeah. I don’t see why not. They can’t use sex toys on the stage to masturbate, but they can wear the plugs.”

“Could they wear them all the time?”

“Ooh, kinky! I could wiggle this little thing up my bottom and not even notice,” Barbie chuckled. “Why don’t you get them the stainless steel kind with the shiny little rubies and emeralds at the base so that they look pretty?”

As I was leaving, Barbie asked me if she could let the girls shower really quickly. “I have towels, soap, and shampoo here.”

“You can tell them to shave, shower, even when to piss and poop,” I smiled as I left the dressing room. I was really enjoying this, and I felt the girls were getting a thrill out of it. The door girl didn’t acknowledge me as I left, but the bouncer did.

He referred to himself as “Terminator.”He was a fat guy with a beard, and he hardly looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger. He was a big boy, but he was not that imposing to me. “Everyone is talking about those two girls you are with,” he said.

I stopped to have a chat with him. His job is pretty basic. There isn’t much trouble at a strip club. He opens the door for people and hangs around to make sure nothing bad happens. I asked him what they were saying.

“At first, we thought you were police, and you were here to investigate. Gobbler looks way too pretty to work in a shit hole like this. Then we thought it was a joke because of the names they picked.”

I informed him that I picked those names only because they wouldn’t let me call them Cunt and Whore.

“Those would be funny stripper names,” he laughed. He nodded. “Some of the girls are getting a little jealous and pissy because Gobbler and Spunky are getting so much attention because they are working in the nude, and they put on little floor shows. Are they really mother and daughter?”

I brought him their IDs, and he was floored. “I think I went to high school with your daughter. She was a Freshman when I was in school. I used to be a Linebacker in High School.”

“Did she give you the time of day?”

“We ran in different circles back then. I think she was a JV cheerleader, right?”

“Oh yes, she was Junior Varsity. Tonight, I’ll ask her if she remembers you, and if you are interested, I’ll make her suck your dick.”

“No way?” Terminator didn’t believe it. I assured him that I’d make that happen and more if he liked it. I asked if that would be frowned upon and if Jack would be upset.

“He might be if he ALSO doesn’t get a blowjob,” Terminator chuckled.

“What about Wizard?” I asked.

“No, I wouldn’t want Wizard to suck my dick,” Terminator replied. He wasn’t joking, either. The big guy was brawny but not very brainy. I clarified that I’d like to send my wife and daughter up to the DJ booth to lick his cock. “They won’t get fired for that, will they?”

Terminator thought I was joking when I asked the question. “They’d probably get made employee of the month. Just keep it on the down-low, and don’t let any of the other dancers know, or they can get really pissy. My old lady works inside, and she’d flip out of she knew I was dipping my dick in another dancer’s mouth.”

“Your old lady isn’t Barbie, is she?”

“Hah, no. I am dating Cricket,” he said. Cricket was a frumpy, redneck dancer. The DJ usually played Lynyrd Skynyrd or Cher for her when she went on stage. She wore a big one-piece dancing outfit that was orange and blank and reminded me of a pumpkin. She had a bit of a gut, and her pussy was huge and gaping with two humongous flaps - it just hung open.

He said that they were cousins. “We aren’t 1st cousins, though, but I guess it’s kind of like you fucking your daughter and your wife,” he said.

“I don’t fuck my daughter,” I explained. I found it strange how accepting Terminator was of the idea that I might be fucking her.

When I returned to the club, I walked down the hallway to the locker room. There are three champagne rooms and bathrooms in that hallway. The female bathroom leads into the locker room. There were about four guys hanging out in front of the glass window for the shower watching my wife and daughter “shower.”

I put “shower” in quotes because the water was running and cascading off of their naked bodies, so technically, that was what was happening. However, they were full-on kissing and passionately rubbing their wet bodies together. They were supposedly washing themselves.

I was very proud that I could freely enter the women’s bathroom and locker room area, and the regular customers had to remain in the hallway. “Are you cunts done having fun? Get out, dry each other off, and come over here. I want you bent over, grabbing your ankles like you do at home.”

I thought maybe I should come up with some one-word commands to give the girls and standardize the positions. I wasn’t sure if I needed to be that formal when I could be descriptive. This was all new to me, and that was certainly something I could make my wife write up in her binder.

Karen and Heather dutifully dried off, but their hair was still wet as they came into the locker room. The other girls in there laughed at them. They made no secret that they thought the girls were high or stupid (or both).

They grabbed their ankles and presented their asses to Barbie and me.

“Why do you let them do you like that?” Tityana asked. She had a Russian accent, but she obviously learned English from someone in Alabama. It was one of the strangest accents I have ever heard.

“My husband is punishing me,” my wife blushed.

“When is the punishment over?” Tityana asked. The others made some wise cracks and laughed at them for allowing me to punish them. They suggested that they wouldn’t let any man treat them like that.

“I don’t know if it will be,” my wife replied very dryly.