Chapter 11

It was Gerri's turn on stage. The lights came on, as she walked towards a chair, next to a little cabinet that held a cocktail shaker and a glass. Looking into the wings, she called, "Yes, Mother. I know he's very eligible." Gerri was classic Preppie, with an oversized tweed jacket over a blue oxford buttoned-down shirt, decorated with a single strand of pearls. She wore a tartan kilt, a little above the knee, with knee socks over what appeared to be black tights. Penny loafers completed the look.

When she sat down, it was in the classic, crossed-ankle, ladylike pose. That lasted only a few seconds, when she cursed, "Goddamnit!"

Rummaging in a drawer of the cabinet, she pulled out a pair of shoes. Off came the loafers, and then the knee socks. She slipped on stiletto black pumps, took off the jacket, and sat back down. This time, she rather emphatically crossed her legs, revealing not tights but a bit of stocking top. After taking a decorous sip of her drink, she paused, took off the pearls, and opened several buttons of her shirt, enough to reveal a black bra, just barely covering her boobs. "I'm no debutante. I'm no lady. I'm me."

Her next drinks were not ladylike sips, but distinct slugs. She reached down to remove the decorative giant safety pin holding her kilt closed, leaned back in her chair, raised each leg, smoothing the stocking over it.

The shows and attention were tantalizing. At one point, Carol sat next to me, put a hand on mine, and said, "Curt love, I've seen your eyes droop, and then snap back. You aren't used to the hours that I keep. Would it be terrible if I took you to one of the bedrooms and told you to take a nap? Get you up in a couple of hours, maybe with a nice Irish Coffee, and then have the service pick us all up, and drive us home, where I'll call ahead to have a light supper waiting?"

"Oh, hell. I want to be Superman now! But you're probably right. Unusual hours, to say nothing of all the emotional stuff both in here and outside."

"Trust me. Sometimes, we even do this for a nice customer. Everybody benefits. Even if you nap for just a little while, you'll be better. Maybe I've been making you hold off too long. I'm planning on bringing Gerri and Cathy home with us. Would you like to have me see you in the bedroom, maybe bringing Edie or Mara, who we'll plan to have for another night? We aren't too busy, so I could borrow Wanda to watch and talk dirty, if she doesn't do more."

The ladies changed into clothing appropriate for the street, although it would be a short ride. Our guests carried small suitcases.

At the apartment, Carol asked me to set out the meal sent up by the concierge, while the ladies changed from street clothes. Either she or the concierge had a good sense of what would be both sensual, but not making the blood flow to our stomachs. Fruit and cheese. Oh, my. The cheese was labeled, and included Camembert and Stilton. For me, these can be like sexual pleasure. Remember, neither all cheese nor all sex is of the best quality.

There was also a deli assortment. I chuckled knowing that as coming from greater New York City, it was a classic for three of us. As I remembered, Cathy was from Maryland, so I wondered if her perceptions were limited to treating a wonderful treat as "what am I? Chopped liver?" With that, I spread some onto a piece of rye and popped it into my mouth, savoring it, and following with a half-sour pickle chunk.

Carol was the first to return, wearing a bright bodysuit and contrasting leggings, her feet in athletic shoes. Over the low-cut bodysuit was a fluorescent thong bottom, a style that never made practical sense to me but did look good. She was carrying a pair of strappy black patent stilettos. If anything, she had heavied up her eye makeup. It was Serious Gym Bunny, and I looked forward to learning why she had picked it rather than more accessible clubwear or bedroom wear.

Gerri came back, wearing a surprisingly elegant outfit of a trim Little Black Dress. Above it was a black beaded choker, from which dangled a cameo. It was what I sometimes think of as a "fashion mini" look, definitely showing some thigh but not outright exhibitionistic. In the same spirit, her black pumps were perhaps four inches tall, over off-black hose. They were stilettos, with high heels just short of unquestionably sexual.

To Carol and I, she said, "Wait until Cathy gets back, and I want to tell you a little about why I picked this outfit." Looking at the table, she winked and said, "No, I'm not going to be a perfectly mannered young lady, although this dress is at the edge of what my mother would approve of my wearing." With that, she picked up a strawberry, licked it, moved it in and out of her mouth, and then swallowed it. I didn't immediately want to consider what she might do to a banana.

A few minutes later, Cathy made what I can only call an entrance. Her long, wavy, reddish-brown hair shone. It was darker than the long, silky, orange cape that she wore. I could see that she wore leather boots. The boots, though, were the usual black but what I might call a caramel color. She folded her arms across her chest, and posed for a moment, looking in each of our eyes.

Her hands dropped and pulled the cape open. She wore only a leather harness, in the same shade as her boots. It covered nothing, or, more correctly, exposed her breasts and pussy and made them even more naked. It was hard to tell if her all-over tan was lighter or darker than the leather, but it was nice to try. "I might take this outfit off my taxes as a costume expense, but I won't wear it on stage. I do have a black leather outfit that I'll wear there.

"This is a way that I express myself. I'm not sure I'm a domme by nature, but I sure as hell am strong. I want to accent that look." She wasn't quite Wonder Woman or a similar superhero, but she certainly wouldn't look out of place in fantasy art. Boris Vallejo, eat your heart out! "Yes, Carol, as you and I mentioned -- I think all of us are using our characters and outfits to express ourselves. I hope we will share that, which is far more intimate than anything we show to the audience.

"Carol, I gather the Flashdance surprised you?"

"Hell yes! Not just the change in music, but what you did with it. That was a tour de force, but unless I guess wrong, you were improvising and the timing worked out just right?"

"You've got it. I, too, was stretching myself. Oh, I've done all those moves before, but for exercise, not showing myself off." She laughed. "If we had music going right now, it would be the Getting strong now from Rocky

In a soft, reflective voice, Carol said, "Not quite sure about my theme music for the way I feel tonight. Scheherazade, orchestrating everyone? Something liberating for Curt and I?

"Incidentally, you all might be wondering why I'm wearing this outfit, rather than something more practical, accessible, or both. When I'm in my clubwear, it's honest enough, and the looks are frankly sexual. When I was actually cheerleading, I got looks of both lust and of athletic appreciation, but I was part of a squad, not so much being admired for myself. I wanted to feel like the hot gym bunny that catches everyone's eyes, although Cathy probably would get more attention in the gym."

"Carol, I often scare them off in the gym. Anyway, I rarely wear sexy stuff there, especially when I'm doing weights. It's a bad idea to have eyes wandering if someone is spotting you."

"Cathy, you'll be sexier there than you think. Anyway..." She raised the six-inch stilettos. "When the gym stuff comes off, these go on, as fetish playthings."

"Tonight, I feel playful and loving, although I've been juggling artistic hand grenades at the club. Everything has been coming together. I think I deserve some pleasure."

I spoke first. "My love, you're going to get that pleasure from all of us. I think we all agree that you are our creative inspiration." Cathy and Gerri emphatically nodded. "We can go to it immediately, or perhaps warm up with Gerri. But first, let's snack a little and have some verbal intimacy. Carol, I know that your character has a lot of you in it, because I knew you as a high school cheerleader. Are you exploring anything in character?"

"I certainly am. On my cheerleading squad, I could only go so far in being sexy. If nothing else, sexy stripper lets me be who I might have imagined I was being if I were being honest. That's not quite right, because then, I had to fit into a role, including being a toy for the jocks rather than really appreciated. It is liberating for me to feel frankly, sexually admired."

"And we're going to give you that pleasure. Perhaps, though, it would be entertaining for you to start with watching Gerri get it? Although if we feel athletic enough, when I fuck Gerri as she licks Cathy, I have a tongue available and so does Cathy."

Carol nodded, went to the table, and poured herself a glass of Shiraz. I was a little surprised, thinking she'd want the lighter White Zinfandel, but, after all, it was her order. She noticed my looking at the wine, and said, "the stronger sensations of a more full-bodied wine helps me shift mental gears. I'll have the lighter ones when relaxing. Gerri and Carol, you said you had some insights to share? For that matter, Curt, is all this bringing up emotional stuff for you?" Everyone nodded.

Gerri began to talk. "I think all of you know some of this, although Curt might not. Still, these amazing couple of days have made me look hard. I really do come from an upper-class family, and had to endure a debutante ball. If I wear a white debutante dress for an act, it definitely will be an act where I resent it and try to break out of role. The preppy look I had on stage isn't actually that objectionable to me, unless it was my mother forcing me on it when I wanted to be in jeans. Were I still living at home, this outfit might be where I still could compromise with Mother, in that it's a classic Little Black Dress that I could wear to a cocktail party or less-than-full-dress performance, and still be socially correct.

"I never had a drinking problem, but did experiment a bit, not heavily, with drugs. My sense is that we don't want to suggest drugs in our acts." Carol nodded. "Among us, I found myself becoming emotionally distant. My parents took me to psychiatrists, who couldn't agree if I was depressed, schizophrenic, or had some sort of dissociation disorder. Eventually, they sent me to an extremely nice and expensive mental hospital.

"That hospital became one of the happiest times of my life. I learned that not long before my admission, there was a strict ban on sex, but the shrinks had changed their thinking. Birth control was readily available. There were lots of safety measures, but if you wanted to flirt and go farther, you could find both party space for the former and private space for the latter. You could call for help from the latter.

"My shrink and I agreed that it could be useful for me to explore some fantasies. She let the nurses and techs know that it was approved. What I did was act out some of my rebellion, by doing such things as being preppy or deb dressed on the outside, but with hot lingerie, and room for exhibitionism. I put on heavy makeup but wasn't nagged to make it perfect. Actually, I found that guys, and the few girls, appreciated me even more when the makeup was a bit sloppy. I was no longer the perfect princess that some were scared to touch.

"I didn't dress that way all the time. It would have horrified my Mother, but I'd enjoy jeans, or, if I was going to be active, some kind of athletic or dance wear. Dance therapy was available anyway, but when I asked for it, so was serious dance instruction. Just as much as I delighted on teasing a guy with lingerie, and boobs falling out of bras, there were times where someone got hot watching me dance, and I just bent over a table, unsnapped the bottom of my bodysuit, and got a straightforward fuck. It was incredibly liberating, and, in turn, helped me open up in therapy. I was really resentful of my parents, both socially, and, for that matter, academically. They wanted me to study drama or art, where I was actually interested in social sciences.