Part 4: Star of the Show

The main floor of the wiggle room was packed, and this was a Tuesday at 6:45. They had had crowds like this every night for two weeks running. Jim had had to hire Etuate two more assistants,, but there was no shortage of applicants. Gretchen grinned as she peaked at the crowd through the curtain. They were all there to see her! God, that made her wet!

Gretchen picked up the phone and hit ë3í for the bar. Jaime answered.

ìIím on in 15, Jaime, î she said. ìCan you be a sweetheart and send back my drink?î

So many patrons were always asking to send a drink to Gretchenís dressing room, with their compliments, that Daddy Jim had come up with a brilliant plan. Members of the VIP club could have their names put into a lottery to be drawn out just before each of Gretchenís performances and could come back stage while she drank it.

Soon the small entourage appeared. Etuate the bouncer, a skinny regular with bulging eyes, and Chelsea dressed in her frilly pink barmaidís outfit and carrying Gretchenís vodka shot on a tray.

Chelsea had never been to BimboTech but she had come away from their amateur night a changed woman. As she had explained it to an irate Tabitha when she dropped out of college, Jaime had fucked her brains out. Whatever the explanation, she was every inch a bimbo, as her naturally large tits constantly threatened to jump out of her tops and proclaim to the world.

Chelsea had started spending almost every night at the bar flirting with Jaime, so eventually Daddy Jim put her to work.

She had tried stripping, but she was a bit clumsy and by the end of the evening, she was too drunk to dance in the soaring heels Jaime kept encouraging her to wear. Of course, now that she was a barmaid, she was often too drunk to get an order right or make correct change, but the customers didnít seem inclined to complain, anymore than Chelsea was inclined to complain about her frequent gropings.

Chelsea was already a bit toasty, with a very pretty blush on her cheeks, but she was still managing in her pink leather sandals with their 8-inch heels.

Gretchen didnít remember the customerís name, but she had given him several lap dances in the past few weeks and he was always in the front row. At the rate he was giving her money, sheíd be able to pay to send her first former club member to get fixed at BimboTech in no time!

Just the threat of wending ëamateur nightí pictures to their parents, professors and friends was enough to keep them from bothering the club, but Gretchen really wanted all of them to realize they were bimbos so that they could be happy just like her!

Besides, Daddy Jim needed more strippers since some of the bimbos he had didnít like the special treatment Greedy Gretchen got. Gretchen was sure Mr. Warren could help her old club understand that she was the bestest bimbo and deserving of all the attention she got. He could probably explain it to the current group of strippers, but for now Gretchen had other ways of keeping them happy.

ìWell, if it isnít the hottie with the huge lump in his lap! <giggle>î: Gretchen exclaimed when she saw the customer. ìI swear youíve got the biggest dick my little toushie ever felt!î

It wasnít true. No cock could compare to Daddy Jimís. But Gretchen did truly appreciate the way he always got hard for her. The customer blushed and stammered and Gretchen giggled and stuck out her huge BTI-enhanced rack, swaying it gently from side to side and drawing the customerís gaze like a magnet.

ìThÖthank you, Miss Gretchen!î he told her tits.

ìNo, thank YOU, Mr. Big Dick!î she said and giggled. ìFor the drink and for letting me rub that big pecker of yours! You keep buying lap dances, Iím gonna start thinking youíre sweet on me and my titties!î

ìOh, I am, Miss Gretchen! I am!î he exclaimed. ìYouíre the best! The absolute best dancer ever!î

ìAwe!î Gretchen exclaimed, genuinely excited. ìThatís so sweet! But pleaseÖî

She stroked his sweating cheek. ìItís not MISS Gretchen. Itís GREEDY Gretchen! You know why?î

She took her shot from Chelsea.

ìCuz I can never get enough!î she downed her shot, licked her lips, and stared pointedly at the customerís tented crotch. ìOf anything!î

Alcohol wasnít the problem for Gretchen that it was for Chelsea. She could be drunk as fuckóas she often was by 2 a.m., and not loose her coordination. With a fifth of vodka in her, she could still twirl around the brass poles upside-down and naked, shaking her tits, and not miss a beat of the music. It was as if she had been made for stripping, which in point of fact she had been.

ìYou know, î she said, looking around conspiratorially. ìJust before I go on, I usually squeeze my nipples so theyíre nice and pointy. I know youíre not technically supposed to touch me, but since you were nice enough to buy me a drink and youíre such a <giggle> big fan, do you think you could do it for me? Pretty please? Itíd be so much more fun that way! Thatís all right, isnít it Etuate?î

ìWell, î said the big Tongan with feigned reluctance. ìAs long as he doesnít tall anybody, I guess I could look the other way for 60 seconds.î

Gretchen giggled and said ëOh goodie!í and stuck out her melons toward the customer, presenting them to him with a manicured hand under each.

The customer blanched as if he might pass out, but he gave one furtive glance at Etuate, who was looking at the ceiling, and then vigorously started trying to tune in Tokyo. Gretchenís BTI-enhanced nipples were already rock hard in anticipation of her coming performance and likewise they were exquisitely sensitive. Rockets went off in Gretchenís head and clit in response to the customers frantic mauling and her eyes rolled back in her head as she shuddered and moaned.

ìOK, thatís enough, î said Etuate, extricating the customer from her titties.

ìNo! More!î Greedy Gretchen cried.

ìYou need to go on stage now, Gretchen, î the big Tongan reminded her as he gently propelled the customer backward with an insistent hand. A wall gently stopped the customer from falling on his ass and left him only slightly dazed. Gretchen completely forgot about her greedy titties upon mention of dancing, though. Dancing was what she lived for! That and Daddy Jim, of course. Chelsea led the customer back to his seat and was happy to let him keep his hand on her ass the whole way as consolation.

Etuate guided Gretchen, trembling in anticipation to the stage entrance. Her heart pounded in her chest and she barely noticed the naked blonde walking past her clutching her clothing and dollar bills. And then she heard the angelic voice of Daddy Jim, who always took the time to announce her, even when he wasn't serving as D.J.

ìIt's the top of the hour, folks, and you know what that means, don't you?î

The crowd roared.

ìOf course you do. So with out further ado, the Wiggle Room is proud to present, the girl who just can't get enough, Grrrrrrreeedy Grrrretchen!î

Gretchen pushed through the curtains and strutted out, tits forward, blinking in the bright lights, basking in the adoration of hundreds of eyes.

ìOh God Yes!î some man in the front row exclaimed. Gretchen's naughty school girl outfit was very popular. Gretchen giggled and started to sway her hips as Ragdoll by Aerosmith started blaring through the speakers. She minced all along the brass-railed perimeter of the stage on patent leather Mary Janes with platform heels. BimboTech had added a good 5 inches to her legs and, weeks later, she was still thrilled by the feeling that she was towering over the crowd. Anyone who wanted to could look up her tiny pleated navy skirt and just about everyone did, except for the mesmerized men who couldn't take their eyes off her mammoth tits as they wrestled inside of her white cotton blouse, unbuttoned and knotted underneath them.

She playfully pranced around the stage, occasionally blowing kisses or giving a tentative twirl around the brass pole, then leaning against the pole and squirming so her tits wiggled while she lifted her skirt to show her tiny white cotton G-string, which was noticeably damp.

Grabbing the pole with one hand, she leaned out at an angle, then reached up and pulled free the lacy white bow that restrained her hair. She shook her head violently forward and back and her mane was unleashed. She had entered BimboTech with a boyishly cut muted ginger coif, but exited with a fiery, untamable red that curled chaotically down to just above her tramp stamp, which read 'Greedy' naturally.

The crowd roared once her hair was free; the regulars knew that it signaled that Greedy Gretchen was about to really get going. Dollar bills began to be tossed on the stage, little tokens of affection that turned Gretchen on like nothing else. Not only did it mean the men liked her and thought she was pretty, but she also knew that Daddy Jim would be proud of her for earning money, making it twice as satisfying.

She began toying with her top, tugging at it, tweaking her nipples, displaying her wares and teasing her audience. Soon, she had a bidding war going between an over-weight white guy in 'nerd' glasses and a balding Chinese man in a rumpled suit. The piles of singles grew in front of each of them as Gretchen vacillated back and forth between the two, always threatening to unleash her mighty melons but coyly failing to do so with exaggerated girlish expressions.

Finally, the Asian man pulled out a ten.

ìFor me?î Gretchen pantomimed innocent surprise. The ten flew and Gretchen ripped off her blouse, the seems having been strategically weakened, and her massive mammaries were liberated. She bent herself over the brass railing, tossing her head back and shaking her jugs with all her might at her benefactor.

The man gawked, eyes bulging, shuddered and seemed to go limp. Gretchen pushed herself back upright and blew him a kiss, then twirled around so that everyone could enjoy her titties. The man looked shamefully down at his trousers, shifted uncomfortably, but remained to watch the rest of Gretchen's act. Gretchen was greedy, but hardly stingy. She went back to the looser in the bidding war, presenting her bared boobies to him with both hands and a wicked grin. Then she twirled about, flipped up her skirt, and gave her ass a loud slap. She bent over backwards on the railing, gave him an inverted smile and jiggled her juggs. He held out a ten and she snatched it from him with her teeth.

She righted herself and let the bill flutter to the floor. Then she slowly squirmed out of her pleated navy skirt so that she was now wearing only her damp white G-string and the gold cross around her neck. She gave herself another spanking. She was a very naughty girl!

She spun about the central pole, the momentum of her massive mammaries making the trick seem reckless. She swirled her way down the pole, then rolled onto her back on the floor. Rubbing her tits, she thrust her hips upward in time with the music, imagining Jim fucking her, grinding her, pounding her into the floor with his big cock.

She rolled over and crawled towards a wryly grinning black man, a new customer, who was holding out a fiver. He set it flat down on the stage and tapped it twice with his finger, then pointed at her rack. Gretchen giggled, licked her left nipple, then pressed her tit down against the bill. She successfully retrieved it on the first try. As she sat back on her heels, Abraham Lincoln continued sucking from her left milk jug. The black man gave a silent golf clap applauding her skill. Gretchen giggled and tucked the five in her G-string. He hadn't seen nothing yet!

Gretchen grabbed the railing, pulled herself up, then went down into the splits, making her juggs bounce deliciously. Still holding the railing, she leaned back and lifted one high-heeled foot and then the other up on top of the brass bar. Lifting herself off the floor like a gymnast on the uneven bars, she began rocking forward and back, her twat swinging out toward the black man's face. His grin transformed from one of wry amusement to one of true amazement. Gretchen laughed, musically, joyfully, and then propelled herself laterally along the railing, flinging herself along, ankles above her head, her tits and hair and gold cross dancing and bounding each time she caught herself only to throw herself once again a few inches to the left until she reached the bend in the railing.

The crowd went crazy! They loved her so much and it made her so fucking horny!

She spread her legs wide, clearing the railing, and got back on her feet. Her head was swimming with arousal, her clitty singing.

Swaying her hips back and forth, she leaned her back against the central pole and started stroking her mound through the damp, white fabric. So many men, watching her, wanting her. Bathing her with their lust, desire, approval. It drove her over the edge and she groaned loud enough to be heard over the music as a monster orgasm hit her.

ìOh god oh god oh fuck oh yes!î she exclaimed and slid down the pole.í

She grinned stupidly at the crowd, drunk on their adulation as the song ended. Then she sluggishly roused herself and crawled about the stage on hands and knees, collecting bills from the floor, letting customers slip bills into her G-string, thanking everyone she could with big, sincere green eyes.

She took the money back to the stage entrance where Etuate waited with a bucket and a robe.

ìAnd that, my friends, was Greedy Gretchen, exclusive to the Wiggle Room, î said Jim over the P.A. ìSheíll be dancing again at the top of the hour.î

Gretchen pouted and stamped her foot, pushing the robe away after putting the cash in the bucket.

ìBut I wanna dance MORE, Daddy Jim!î she protested, stamping a high-heeled foot again.

ìShe wants to dance more, guys, î Jim announced in mock surprise. ìOur Gretchen just canít get enough, greedy little girl that she is. Well, itís up to you folks out there. Should we let her dance some more?î

ìMore!î roared the crowd. ìMore! More! More! More! More! More!î

They were greedy too!

Jim consented and Gretchen was off again, shaking all she had, which thanks to BimboTech, was quite a lot. She couldnít imagine a better way to earn a living.