Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 ï>¿Sasha Dances At The Landing Strip by LikesToWatchHer

   Sasha's audiences grow, but things get complicated.

   Sasha awoke the morning after her performance for the investors at
Valentino's with a knot in her stomach.  She had slept poorly.  Her mind
was racing with thoughts and fears about the prospect of performing as an
exotic dancer.

   Sasha was ambivalent about the idea.  It ticked most of the boxes for
her exhibitionist fantasies, but the risk of being caught by someone she
knew was a serious deterrent.  Additionally, she did not like being
blackmailed.  Chidi Nguyen, one of the minority investors at Valentino's,
could not have been any more clear if he had come out and said it directly:
if Sasha didn't perform at his strip club, he was going to call Sasha's
father and reveal all her dirty secrets.  Even if stripping might otherwise
have felt like a fun idea, being forced to do it on someone else's terms
did not feel fun at all.

   Sasha had weighed her options.  On balance, the risk of seeing a friend
or colleague in the audience seemed less onerous than having to confront
her father's disapproval.  Sasha was uncertain of this choice, but at least
for now, caving to Chidi's demands seemed like the path of least
resistance.

   "So, John..." Sasha said to her boyfriend of five years.

   "So, Sasha..." He replied without looking up from the Saturday morning
paper.

   "There's one detail I omitted last night." She confessed.

   John looked up inquisitively.  "Oh?  And what might that have been?"

   "One of the investors, Chidi Nguyen is his name, he owns that strip club
-- The Landing Strip.  He really really wants me to come dance there on
Amateur night next Thursday." She told John only what he needed to know. 
There was no need to alarm him by disclosing that Chidi was threatening
her.

   "Oh damn!" Said John, looking up with wide eyes.  "That's next level
stuff."

   "I kind of want to do it." Sasha reported.  "But how would you feel
about it?"

   "It's your body, baby." John replied, comfortingly.  "You can show it to
whomever you want.  Could I come and watch?"

   "You had better come and watch!" Sasha exclaimed.  "I wouldn't feel safe
without you there."

   "Well, then, I guess we know what we're doing next Thursday night!" John
enthused, as he grabbed Sasha's butt and pulled her in for a kiss.

   In any given moment over the next five days, the pit in Sasha's gut
seemed to last an eternity.  Yet the days themselves almost flew by.

   Sasha obsessed about her preparation.  Sasha pondered what to wear, how
to dance, how to move.  She and John watched movies featuring strippers
every night that week.

   The films gave Sasha a lot of ideas, but didn't quell her anxiety. 
Dancing, nude on a stage, in front of dozens of strange men, seemed like a
daunting proposition; doing it under duress only made it more so.  But this
was the bed that Sasha had made for herself.  She felt that she had no
choice.

   When Thursday evening arrived and Sasha landed back home from her work
at the bank, she stripped naked in her bedroom.  She had begun to assemble
her outfit when John returned from his own job.  Few things pleased him
more than reporting home to find his girlfriend waiting for him in the
buff. He hugged her and ran his hands up and down Sasha's smooth round
behind.

   "Hey, I've got an idea!" John exclaimed.  "Reverse strip for me!  Let's
put on some music and see how sexy you are while you get dressed."

   "That does sound fun!" Sasha agreed.  "I need a drink first, and then
let's do it!  I think I need to be at the club in about an hour."

   John put some 70s funk on the stereo and poured them each a glass of
wine.  Sasha sat on the corner of the bed facing John with her knees
splayed.  She slowly rolled a sheer black stocking up each leg, looking and
John and licking her lips as she did.  Sasha fastened the black lace garter
belt around her waist, and she bent forward to attach the straps to the
tops of her stockings.  Wanting to stay bottomless for John as long as
possible, Sasha next turned her back to him, arching her hips towards him
as she donned her matching black lace bra.  It fastened in the front, and
Sasha moved her butt in big circles for John's enjoyment as she hooked the
clasp between her small breasts.  She pulled a tight black cotton t-shirt
over her head, now facing John so he could admire her sex and the little
black landing strip she had grown over the week.  Languorously Sasha pulled
her tight stretchy mini skirt over her thighs.  The bottom hem of the skirt
fell just north of the tops of her stockings.  It rode up slightly when
Sasha walked, exposing a horizontal strip of pale skin on each thigh. 
Sasha sat back down on the bed hiked the skirt above her hips, and
teasingly eased a lacy black thong over her feet, past her knees, and into
position, before smoothing down the skirt, easing her feet into strappy
black stilettos, and performing a little twirl for John.

   "Well?" She inquired nervously.

   "Extraordinary.  Spectacular.  There aren't enough superlatives for
you." John gushed.  "Do that backwards, and you'll have men hurling their
cash at you all night long."

   John's words reassured Sasha, but she was still nervous.  What if men
tried to touch her?  What if she saw someone she knew?  Worse yet, someone
from work?  What if they thought her dancing sucked?  What if nobody liked
her?  How humiliating would it be to stand naked on stage in front of a
group of strange men and be ignored?  Or booed?

   These thoughts were not helping.  But Sasha had no choice but to forge
ahead.  She finished her wine, and John drove her to The Landing Strip.

   As soon as they stepped inside, Sasha felt overwhelmed.  The PA system
was booming loud music that resonated off of the walls.  She looked around,
taking in the substantial room.  There were one large main stage, and two
smaller ones.  All three featured stripper poles.  The floor of the club
was filled with cocktail tables, each surrounded by several comfortable
lounge chairs, all facing the nearest stage.

   The club was not very full.  The fire marshal permit inside the front
door said the capacity was 240 people.  There were not even one-fifth of
that number present.  Many of the tables were empty.  Some had only one or
two men sitting at them.  There was a couples drinking together at one
table.  There was a small group of young men standing around the bar at the
back of the club.  Young women in various states of undress were dancing on
the stages, while others circulated through the crowd.  One or two were
completely naked, but most were wearing lingerie.  They would drape their
bodies around any unoccupied patron and purr in his ear.

   Chidi Nguyen saw Sasha enter and stepped forward to welcome her.  "I'm
glad you came." He said.  "I recognize John from your performance at the
restaurant.  Nice to meet you in person, young man."

   Chidi extended his hand to John.  John shook it firmly.  John vaguely
recognized the fifty-something club owner from the video call during
Sasha's masturbation performance at Valentino's the prior week.  Sasha had
kept John ignorant of the threat that drew her to The Landing Strip that
night, and he was utterly oblivious to the niggling sense of dread that
Chidi elicited from Sasha.

   "I'm pretty nervous." Sasha confessed.  "But here we are!"

   "John, why don't you get yourself a drink and find a seat.  Sasha will
be dancing on the main stage -- I need to give her an orientation." Chidi
handed John a drink coupon, and John thanked him before sliding away to the
bar, leaving his beloved Sasha in Chidi's care.

   Looking at them from across the room, they could have been father and
daughter, John thought.  He also contemplated how creepy it would be for a
father to have his daughter stripping for him, and banished those thoughts
from further consideration.

   Chidi introduced Sasha to the DJ, who greeted her and shook her hand. 
Then Chidi took her to the dressing room behind the stage.

   "Here's how it's going to go." Chidi told her.  "You're one of several
women dancing tonight -- we have the regular staff, and then there are two
or three other amateurs signed up to compete tonight.  You'll dance twice
-- first at 7:30, again at 8:30.  Each dance is three songs -- usually
girls get topless during the first, bottomless during the second, and dance
fully nude during the third.  You can keep those stockings on if you want
-- some men like that.  Whatever tips you get, you can keep.  The guests
aren't allowed to touch you when you're on the stage.  If they do, the
bouncers will kick them out immediately."

   Sasha found this last detail reassuring.  She was glad to know that
there was security looking out for her.

   "At 10:00 we'll ask the audience who they liked best, and the winner
gets $500 -- in case you need the money." Chidi chuckled.

   "I don't," Sasha responded, "but I'll take it if I win it."

   "That's the competitive spirit!" Chidi encouraged her.  "When you're on
the stage you can do whatever you want -- you can touch yourself, you can
use the pole, you can get close to the men sitting by the stage and expose
yourself to them.  We've even got a box of dildos over there by the stage
door." Chidi gestured towards a box on a chair next to a doorway with a
curtain hanging in it.  "Feel free to grab one and use it if that excites
you.  They're all clean." Chidi said emphatically, as if that would be the
issue that made a difference.  "Between your performances, you should
circulate through the club and get the patrons to buy drinks.  You can stay
nude or get dressed again.  That's your choice.  I like you nude, by the
way."

   Chidi cupped Sasha's left glute as he said that, giving it a squeeze
through the thin fabric of her skirt.  Sasha wanted to swat away Chidi's
presumptuous hand, but she was scared to offend him or even to say no to
him.

   "Thank you?" Sasha responded, uncertain whether Chidi's last comment had
been a compliment or a command.

   "We don't normally let the amateurs work the VIP rooms in the back, so
don't worry about that tonight." Chidi offered, his hand still caressing
Sasha's behind.

   "VIP rooms?" Sasha said haltingly.

   "Of course.  You're a smart girl -- you understand economics.  The main
room makes me money by selling overpriced drinks.  But the real money is in
the private dances.  There are ten VIP booths in the back.  We keep them
packed on a busy night.  Guests pay twenty dollars per song, and that goes
to the club.  Most VIP dances last for at least three or four songs.  Your
tips back there are much bigger, too!  But you have to earn them." Chidi
said with a wink, as he squeezed Sasha's butt again.

   "Earn?" Sasha responded, confused.

   "Prostitution is illegal in California, Sasha.  And as far as I know,
nothing illegal happens in this club." Chidi said, not sounding at all
sincere, as if he were repeating a script that his lawyers wrote for him.
"But you girls must be doing something back there to keep the men happy or
they wouldn't be paying six dollars per minute for your company, if you
know what I mean." Chidi winked.

   Sasha was aghast.  As liberated and adventurous as she was, she was also
naïve.  She had no idea that prostitution occurred in strip clubs. 
Frankly, before that moment she had never even thought about it.  It made
sense.  But, as she pondered this fresh insight, Sasha began to see herself
differently.  Suddenly she no longer felt like a free-wheeling young woman
who got her rocks off exposing herself.  Suddenly she realized that she was
becoming a sex worker.

   'How did I go from taking my panties off in a restaurant to being
literally twenty feet away from prostitution?' She asked herself.

   "Anyway," Chidi continued, "like I said, amateurs don't work the VIPs,
so don't worry about that tonight.  Now I get to see the goods before you
dance -- owner's prerogative."

   "Uhm, okay." Sasha responded, trying to conceal her lack of enthusiasm.
"What should I do?"

   "Show me your tits -- show me your pussy." Chidi responded, soberly. 
"You don't have to get totally undressed -- I just need to vet the goods
before you go out onstage."

   Sasha deposited her coat and purse on one of the changing room chairs.
She lifted her skirt and pulled down the front of her thong, exposing
herself to Chidi.

   "Nice landing strip.  Clever." Chidi said.  "Now just pull your skirt up
around your waist, take off the thong, give me a three-sixty, and then
spread your lips for me."

   Obediently, because she had no real choice in the matter, Sasha pulled
up her skirt and removed her thong.  She turned slowly around, and then sat
down on the edge of the chair, spread her knees and pulled her lips apart.
It felt almost clinical as Chidi visually inspected her.  The coldness of
it was humiliating.  The humiliation of it was arousing.  The arousal of it
gave Sasha something to grasp onto, and she pressed a finger into herself
and then put it to her lips.

   "I'm not very juicy yet, but I suspect I will be on stage." She said,
almost apologetically.

   "I bet.  This looks good.  You're clean, pink, and well-groomed from
clit to cornhole.  Let me see your tits." Chidi responded.

   His comment made Sasha feel like some kind of farm animal on the auction
block.  Her arousal cycled back to clinical humiliation, as she lifted her
shirt and bra up her chest, exposing her A-cups and stiff brown nipples. 
Chidi reached out and kneaded them, first the left, then the right.  Sasha
hated his touch -- on her ass, on her breasts -- it did not make any
difference where.  Chidi's groping hands repulsed her.

   Even more, Sasha hated that, despite her feelings of disgust, her body
reacted to Chidi's pawing with lubrication and stiff nipples.  But whether
disgusted or aroused, Sasha felt powerless to protest.  And her
powerlessness was perhaps the thing that she hated most of all.  Chidi
gestured for Sasha to lower her shirt.

   "You're on in about twenty minutes." Chidi told her.  "You can hang out
back here, or go out front -- doesn't matter.  When you hear the DJ say
your name, you go through that curtain over there, and out onto the main
stage.  Got it?"

   "I think so." Sasha said.  "I think I want to go give John a hug before
all this starts."

   "Go right ahead, but don't spend all your free time with your boyfriend.
You're working tonight.  You dance, and then you flirt with the customers
and get them to buy drinks.  Got it?" Chidi asked.

   At the word 'flirt' Sasha finally felt the familiar feeling of
butterflies in her stomach: the confluence of anticipation, apprehension,
and vulnerability that she found so intensely arousing whenever she exposed
herself.  The titillating familiarity of the sensation comforted her frayed
nerves.

   Sasha strode back into the club's main room, scanned it to spot John
standing alone at the bar, and made her way to him.  She could sense the
patrons eyeing her immodestly as she moved through the room.  Their
attention felt like a warm blanket.  She liked it.

   She told John that she would be dancing first at 7:30, that they needed
to stay until around 10:30, and that she might not be able to devote her
attention to him in between.

   "I get it -- it's fine!" John said.  "I'm here to watch.  You do what
you've got to do."

   'Got to do.' Sasha thought.  'If only he knew.'

   Just then the DJ took to his microphone.  "Gentlemen -- as you know,
Thursday is amateur night here at the fabulous Landing Strip.  We've got
three beautiful young ladies who are dying to show you their assets."

   Sasha hugged John and retreated to the changing room.

   "Our first amateur dancer is a stunning half-Asian beauty who can't wait
to show you everything she's got!" The DJ continued.  "Please welcome to
the stage, Sashaaaaaa!"

   Girls, Girls, Girls began to play over the sound system.  Sasha stepped
through the curtain and out onto the stage.  Somehow, despite all the
movies she and John had watched, she hadn't quite anticipated what it would
feel like to be alone on a stage.  Bright spot lights illuminating every
inch of her, blinding her at first.  A room full of horny men looked on. 
The initial shock quickly gave way to exhilaration.

   Sasha strutted up and down the stage, lifting and lowering her shirt. 
She had no idea what to do with the pole, but she grabbed and swung herself
around it to change directions.  She bent forward at the waist, straight
legged, and wiggled her but at the crowd.  Then Sasha spanked herself hard
before straightening up.  She spun around, lifted her shirt over her head,
and tossed it to the back of the stage.  The men cheered.

   Dollar bills began to rain around her.  Sasha sidled over to a suit-clad
young men with a fist fill of dollars sitting right next to the stage.  She
knelt in front of him and leaned forward.  He pushed multiple dollar bills
under the shoulder strap of Sasha's bra.  She did the same with the next
customer, who slid his bills under Sasha's garter strap.  She stood and
retreated, knowing the first song was almost over, she turned her back to
the crowd, unfastened her bra, and casually let it drop to the stage behind
her.  She spun around to show her perky breasts to the room.  The men
cheered.

   As the first song ended, the second, Pour Some Sugar on Me, began. 
Sasha began to move her hips like she had seen strippers do.  She squatted
down to her heels, showing off the crotch of her thong to the crowd. 
Several men stepped up to tuck bills under the tops of her stockings and in
the waist band of her skirt.  Sasha stood and shoved her skirt down to the
stage around her feet.  More cheers.

   She saw John approach the stage and she knelt, knees wide, before him.
"Turn around." John said, barely audible over the blaring music.

   Sasha turned around, and bent forward, grabbing her ankles.  John tucked
a twenty-dollar bill under the string that traveled between Sasha's butt
cheeks.  Sasha wiggled her ass as John retreated to the bar.

   In the closing minute of the second song, Sasha began to tease the crowd
with her thong.  She lowered it slightly, then raised it.  She lowered it
slightly farther, then raised it again.  She turned her back to the crowd
and did it again.  Dollar bills continued to land around her.

   She slid the thong down to her knees, pinching her thighs together. 
Half the men stared at her landing strip rapt as if they'd never seen pubic
hair before.  The second song faded out and the third, WAP, began.  Sasha
slowly unclenched her knees, letting the thong fall to the floor.  She
tossed it to the back of the stage.

   Sasha laid down on the hard stage, and raised her legs vertically.  Her
thighs were pinched together, and the lips of her vulva were now visible
between them.  She fanned her legs apart as wide as they would go, arcing
open like the tail of a peacock.  Dollar bills now rained down around her.
Sasha slapped her pussy with the flat of her hand, then knelt in front of
the suited kid and spread her lips for his viewing pleasure, dipping her
fingers into herself and licking them clean.  By the time the third song
ended, Sasha's juices were flowing down her thighs.

   "Everyone give it up for Sashaaaaaa!" The DJ howled into his mic.

   The crowd got to its feet, applauding and cheering Sasha is she flitted,
nearly naked, around the stage collecting all of her tips.  She gathered up
her clothes and her money, gave a little bow and retreated to the changing
room.  Sasha's dread and apprehension had given way to the thrilling buzz
of arousal.  She felt almost high as she stepped through the curtain into
the changing room.

   Chidi was waiting for her.  "Are you sure you've never done this
before?" Was the first thing he said to her.

   "Never." She said, flushed.  Sasha was panting a little from the
exertion, and nervous from the exhilaration of having exposed herself to an
entire room full of strange men.

   "Well that was a great first dance!" Chidi said.  He reached out to hug
her, wrapping his left arm around Sasha's shoulders, and his right hand
around her butt cheek, digging his fingertips into her flesh just a little
too close for comfort to her enervated holes.  "You should count your
money, and then put it in one of the lockers.  Then come out and work the
room while your competition is dancing." Chidi smacked Sasha on the ass
again and left the room. She sat down, smoothed the crumpled bills, and
sorted them into piles.  One hundred and fifty dollars.  Sasha didn't know
whether that was good or bad, but for fewer than fifteen minutes of
stripping it seemed like a pretty good wage.  She stashed the bills and her
purse in a locker, along with most of her clothes.  She pulled her thong
back on before checking herself in the mirror.

   'Bottomless is too much, but I think I can flirt topless.' She reassured
herself.

   Sasha stepped into the main room, wearing only garter, stockings, thong,
and stilettos.  'The kid in the suit must be a regular here,' Sasha thought
-- he was waiting for her right outside the stage door.

   "Oh my god that was really great, Sasha!" He gushed.  "Can I call you
Sasha?  Is that your real name?  I'm Paul."

   "Hi Paul!" Sasha said.  "Thank you!  Yes, call me Sasha.  Hey -- I'm
hot. How about a drink." Drink sales was now her job, and she was
determined to do it well.

   Sasha escorted Paul back to his table and sat with him, topless, as they
enjoyed a drink together and Sasha watched the next amateur take the stage
-- a blonde white girl named Candy.

   'Candy is such a stripper name.' Sasha thought.

   Candy's routine wasn't all that different from Sasha's.  Perhaps less
graceful.  "You're so much prettier than Candy!" Paul said to Sasha.

   Sasha fluttered her eyelashes at Paul in faux gratitude.  She told Paul
that she had to work the room, but that she'd be there all night, and
excused herself.  Sasha walked from table to table, encouraging the patrons
to buy drinks, sitting with them and talking, if they seemed talkative. 
Most were.  Every once in a while, she'd catch John's eye and give him a
wink or blow him a kiss.

   'This would all be perfectly normal,' Sasha thought, 'except that I'm
nearly naked and all these guys are fully dressed.' That realization made
the entire experience all the more arousing to her.  'I'm an investment
banker, not a stripper.' Crossed Sasha's mind at some point.  'But this is
actually pretty fun.'

   Candy wrapped up her performance completely naked on stage -- no
stockings, no shoes, no nothing.  The crowd seemed appreciative, but
Sasha's sense was that the crowd was less lively for Candy than it had had
been for her.

   The third amateur took the stage.  She was a college-age brunette who
went by Suzy.  She was cute, if a little portly, and had D-cup breasts
which she worked to full effect during her first song.  She revealed her
bare waxed pudenda at the end of her second song and spent the third song
fingering herself for the crowd.  Suzy did a lot of writhing around, but it
didn't seem to Sasha as if the girl actually came.

   It was nearly time for Sasha to dance again.  She made her way through
the crowd to John.

   "Hey there sexy," Sasha purred.  "Wanna buy a pretty girl a drink?"

   "Whatever you want, sugar." John offered.

   "After my next set -- I don't have time now." Sasha said.  "Were you ok
watching me flirt with this whole room?  Topless and all?" She asked.

   "Sasha, I am so turned on by you right now -- I can't even tell you."
John whispered into Sasha's ear.

   "Stay that way!" She said and retreated to the changing room where she
put her bra and shirt back on just in the nick of time.

   The DJ announced Sasha's second set.  "Remember that this is a contest
tonight, gentlemen!  Welcome back to the stage for your erotic
entertainment, the beautiful and uninhibited Sashaaaa!"

   Seeing the other two girls dance had fired up Sasha's competitive
impulses.  Sasha's routines for songs one and two were basically the same
as her first set.  She paid a little more attention to eager Paul (mostly
for the tips) but performed more or less the same moves.  For the third
song, however, Sasha was not going to be outdone by Suzy.

   After dropping her thong to the floor, Sasha retreated quickly to the
changing room to snag a chair and grab a dildo out of the box by the
curtain.  She didn't look carefully and just pulled out the first one that
her hand met.  It was black silicone.  It was not enormous, but it was
large: perhaps eight inches long, and girthy.

   Sasha returned to the stage.  She placed the chair in the middle of the
stage, close to the front edge, and set the dildo beneath it before most in
the crowd had any opportunity even to notice it.  Sasha sat down, spread
her knees, closed them, and spread them again.  She unclipped her stockings
one at a time and rolled them down her legs.  She grabbed them by the toes
and pulled them off -- first the left, then the right.  Save for a black
garter belt, Sasha was now naked as a jaybird, and the crowd -- now at
least twice as large as it had been for Sasha's first set -- was keyed up.

   To a loud outburst of cheers, Sasha licked her right index finger and
guided it down her torso to her throbbing clit.  As she drew circles around
her clit, she reached under the chair and withdrew the dildo, displaying it
in front of her, holding it by its balls and twirling it around.  The crowd
went wild.  Cheers, hoots, and cash rained down on the stage as Sasha
pressed the head of the dildo between the moist and engorged folds of her
labia.  She was powerfully aroused, and, with only a little pressure, the
dildo slid all the way up inside Sasha with one smooth movement.

   She moaned and threw her head back.  The sensations were intense and
made her glutes twitch.  The men loved it and displayed their adoration
loudly.  Sasha began to pump the dildo in and out of herself.  It was
visibly slick with her juices, which were dribbling out of her, down her
ass, and onto the chair.

   As the song neared its climax, Sasha neared hers.  The pace of her
pumping accelerated.  Her rubbing intensified.  The stream flowing from
inside of her grew.  As the sensations between her legs reached their peak,
Sasha whipped the dildo out of her pussy and squirted three jets of fluid.
The first landed on Paul's face.  He looked shocked and amazed, and threw
all the rest of his cash at Sasha's feet.  The second and third fell on the
stage.  Sasha heaved, panted, and wilted into her chair.

   As the song ended, Sasha stood and took a bow to a standing ovation. 
She gathered her clothing, her tips, the chair and the dildo and made her
way back to the changing room where Candy was preparing for her own second
set.

   "Oh my god, girl -- you are so brave!" Candy blurted to Sasha.

   "You are too, girl!  Go crush it out there." Sasha responded,
insincerely.  Candy nonetheless seemed legitimately touched, and made her
way to the curtain.

   As soon as Candy left, Sasha counted her tips.  Over two hundred and
twenty dollars this time.

   Sasha put it in her purse in the locker, and prepared to don her
stockings and thong, and then thought "Fuck it.  These guys have seen it.
What's the point of getting dressed at all?"

   Sasha stuffed her clothes into the locker and strode into main room
wearing only stiletto heels and a garter belt dangling from her waist.  Her
juices were still running down her thighs, but she did not care.  Even
though Candy was now dancing on the stage, all eyes turned to Sasha and her
gorgeous lithe naked frame as she circulated around the room.

   Again and again, Sasha found herself sitting naked with one table of
men, then another.  Again, she encouraged them to buy drinks.  She spread
her legs for them if they asked.  She spread her legs for them if they
didn't ask.  She would place her hands coquettishly on their shoulders and
thighs and laugh at their jokes.  She was viscerally aware of her nakedness
and vulnerability.  But Sasha felt powerful.  And she loved it.  She felt
like she could make these men do anything -- she needed only to part her
knees, and ask.

   Suzy must have felt competitive too.  For her final song she impaled
herself on a vibrator and fucked herself with it vigorously.  At least to
Sasha's eyes, however, there was no passion there.  Still, the men cheered
and hooted.

   After Suzy performed her second set, Candy, Sasha, and Suzy all worked
the room simultaneously until the DJ called them back to the stage.  "It's
time to crown tonight's amateur Landing Strip queen!" He bellowed into his
mic.

   The three young women all took the stage together naked and held hands
-- standing exposed before a room full of rowdy men.  The DJ fired them up.

   "Whoever gets the most cheers wins." He announced.  "So let's give it up
if your vote goes to the cute and comely Candy!" There were cheers and
applause.  Candy bowed.

   "Now is the time to let us know if your favorite dancer this evening was
stunning and salacious Sooooozeeeeeee!" The DJ said.  The crowd cheered and
hooted loudly -- there was no question that Suzy had beaten Candy.

   "Finally, give it up if your favorite amateur Landing Strip dancer
tonight was the oriental stunner Sashaaaaaaaa!" The crowd went nuts.  The
cheers sounded reverberated through the room like thunder.  For a few
moments, they completely drowned out the music.  Intermixed among the
applause were all nature of appreciative hoots and hollers.  There was no
ambiguity.  Sasha had won by a landslide.  It was the first stripping
contest in which she ever participated, and she came out the champion.

   Sasha pulled her naked body forward to the front of the stage.  She blew
kisses to the crowd before taking curtsy and a bow.

   "Thank you everybody for coming, and especially to these three gorgeous
dancers." The DJ said, appreciatively.  "Now we're returning to our
regularly scheduled performances -- give it up for The Landing Strip's very
own Brandi!"

   Sasha strode nude back out into the main room.  Men congratulated her
and cheered her as she made her way to the bar where John was standing,
shaking his head in disbelief.

   "Baby," he said, wrapping his arms around Sasha's bare shoulders, "you
are incredible."

   "Hands!" Admonished a bouncer, almost immediately.

   "It's okay." Said Sasha.  "He's my boyfriend."

   "Doesn't matter." Scolded the bouncer.  "No touching.  If you two want
to cuddle, you can take him to the VIP lounge."

   "Do you want to buy a dance with me?" Sasha purred, fluttering her
eyelids at John.

   "Let's go!" He responded.

   At the doorway to the VIP lounge, John paid a bouncer sixty dollars for
a three-song private dance.  He and Sasha walked hand in hand to the
lounge. They found there a row of ten booths, each with a banquette, a tiny
cocktail table, a box of tissues, and a curtain to shield its occupants
from view.  Some were occupied already.  The sounds emanating from within
suggested that there was much more going on than lap dances.

   Sasha pulled John into a booth and yanked the curtain closed.  She
pounced on him with a lusty ferocity he had not seen in some time.  Their
lips locked and Sasha's hands pulled hungrily at John's fly.  She liberated
John's erect cock and pushed him back onto the banquette.  She crawled up
to straddle him and brought her dripping pussy to rest at the tip of John's
swollen cock.  Ever so slowly she eased herself down on it.  Sasha savored
ever moment of her lover's cock sliding into her.  No dildo could compete
with the warm touch of her lover's flesh inside of her.

   "Baby that was so hot." Sasha panted into John's ear.

   "You're telling me!" John exclaimed.  "Gold lord, Sash', I don't know
what came over you, but you owned this place tonight.  Watching you sit
naked with all those men was an insane turn on.  And not just for me.  Half
that room fell in love with you tonight."

   "Only half?" Sasha panted, chuckled, and continued thrusting herself
over John's cock.

   "Conservatively." John laughed.

   "Baby -- I can't walk out of here with your come running down my legs.
When you're close, tell me, ok?" Sasha ordered.

   John grabbed Sasha's hips solidly and held them as he thrust vigorously
beneath her.  "Babe I'm going to come." He cried into her ear.

   Sasha leapt off of John and wrapped her lips around his throbbing cock.
The sweet tangy taste of her own juices painted her tongue for only a
moment before John's cock erupted between Sasha's cheeks, shooting jets of
warm salty come.  Sasha bobbed her head slowly on John's cock as his spasms
abated and their fluids combined into an exquisite cocktail in her mouth.
She swallowed.

   Sasha crawled back into John's lap and kissed him deeply.  "Let's get
out of here." Sasha said.  "I need to get my clothes and my money from
Chidi.  Then let's go."

   They stood and walked together from the VIP lounge.  John exited the
club to warm up their car.  Sasha marched straight to the changing room,
where she got dressed, and grabbed her things from the locker.  The
stripper named Bambi, a heavily tattooed Latina in her 30s entered the
changing room.

   "Chidi was looking for you -- he wants to see you in his office." Bambi
said.  "Up the stairs."

   Sasha thanked Bambi and made her way up the stairs to Chidi's office. 
She knocked.

   "Come in." Chidi answered.

   Sasha entered to find Chidi sitting in an executive chair behind his
desk.  His pants were around his ankles and he was stroking himself.  On
the computer in front of him was video of a naked woman kneeling on the
floor with her face in a man's lap.  She looked up at the man's face.

   "OH MY GOD!" Sasha exclaimed.  "That's me and John!  In the VIP!"

   "You were amazing, Sasha." Chidi said, still stroking himself while
conversing.  He tossed an envelope to her.  "There are your winnings --
five hundred.  Not bad for 30 minutes of dancing and some socializing,
don't you think?"

   "I guess." Sasha said unenthusiastically.  She felt violated by the
images on Chidi's computer screen.

   "So this job interview went very well.  You're hired.  I'd like you to
work Fridays and Saturdays.  I'm pleased to see you've already figured out
how the VIP lounge works.  You can make us both a lot of money back there.
Lot of money." Chidi licked his lips, still stroking himself.

   "I..." Sasha stutterred.  "I...  no.  No.  No I can't do that Chidi. 
I'm an investment banker, not a stripper.  Far less a prostitute.  I
can't."

   "Oh, Sasha.  You are so naïve." Chidi chided her.  "I don't care what
you do on weekdays during the day.  On Friday and Saturday nights, however,
you're whatever I say you are.  Unless of course you want this video to
find its way to your father and your handsome boyfriend."

   Sasha's stomach fell through the floor.  This was not really happening.
'How could I have been so stupid?' Sasha berated herself.  'How could I
possibly have imagined that this was a one-time thing?  How did I not know
that this creep ass motherfucker had have ulterior motives.  The signs were
all there.  So stupid.  So stupid.'

   "I guess I have no choice." Sasha said, looking to the floor.  A tear
welled up in her eye.

   "You can start tomorrow." Chidi said.  "And before you go, come back
here and take care of this for me."

   Chidi pointed his wrinkled old cock at Sasha.  She felt sick.  She
didn't want to do this.  Her exhibitionism notwithstanding, she was
faithful to John, who was always a part of her escapades.  She knew she
could not tell John about this.

   "I think it's better if we keep our relationship professional." Sasha
protested meekly.

   "This is my profession -- and now it's yours too.  Hurry the fuck up --
the sooner you get me off, the sooner you can go home.  Now!" Chidi
snapped.

   Sasha could tell he wasn't kidding around.  She was between a rock and a
hard place.  Between a destroyed life and a hard cock.  She did the only
thing she could think to do to extract herself from Chidi's office: she
stepped behind his desk and began to stroke Chidi's cock.

   Chidi's foreskin was warm against Sasha's hand.  She slid it up and down
over the engorged head of his penis.  Chidi moaned casually.

   Chidi let his head fall back and closed his eyes.  "Mmmm.  That feels
nice.  Now suck it." He commanded.

   "No, I can't.  Please." Sasha pleaded.

   Chidi grabbed the hair behind Sasha's head and pulled it back sharply.
"The next time I have to tell you more than once to follow an order, I'm
going to tie you up and fuck right you in your ass." Chidi hissed.

   Sasha brought her mouth down on Chidi's penis and began to suck
rhythmically.  She wanted to die.  How had this all gone so wrong?  She
could feel Chidi's cock begin to throb and twitch on her swirling tongue.
She got ready to pull her head off of Chidi before he ejaculated.  At the
exact moment that Chidi grunted and Sasha began to pull away, he jammed his
hands down on the back of Sasha's head, shoving himself to the back of her
throat, and fired his gooey load between her tonsils.

   Sasha lifted herself off of him, and wiped her mouth on the back of her
hand.  She was trying not to cry.  All she could think was that she had to
collect herself before she got to the car.  John could not know about this.
Any of this.

   "That was nice.  You're good at this.  Going rate for a hummer is a
hundred.  Do ten or fifteen of those every night and you'll be a rich
girl." Chidi said dispassionately.  "Here you go."

   Chidi handed Sasha five twenty-dollar bills.  She took them reflexively
and stuffed them into her purse.  "Go home." Chidi said.  "I'll see you
tomorrow night."

   Sasha turned and exited the office.  She walked unsteadily down the
stairs -- between the stilettos and shameful flutter in her heart, it was
slow going.

   'Pull it together.  Pull it together.  John cannot see you cry!' Sasha
berated herself.  She stopped half way down and slapped herself hard on the
cheek.  "Snap out of it!" She said out loud.

   The sting of the slap pulled Sasha back into the moment.  She focused
her attention on the stairs, and descended.  She waved to the DJ and the
bartender as she beat a hasty exit.  Several customers were smoking
outside. They complimented her, but Sasha didn't even hear what they said.
She went to the car and slid into the passenger seat.

   "That took a while!" John said, surprised.

   "Chidi had to count the money." Sasha said.  "Let's go -- I'm tired."

   "I bet you are.  Let's get you to bed." John said, and they drove home.

   Sasha didn't sleep.  She could think of nothing other than how to
extract herself from the situation.  Her brain was doing somersaults all
night long.  In the morning, as soon as John left, she called in sick to
work.  She called Gino at the restaurant to get Stan Jeffries's phone
number.  Then she called Stan and asked to meet.

   Stan's office was on the top floor of one of the tallest office
buildings downtown.  The elevator right up felt interminable.  The
receptionist greeted Sasha warmly as soon as she stepped off of the
elevator and into the lobby of Stan's offices.

   "You must be Sasha for Mr.  Jeffries.  He's expecting you.  Right this
way." She said to Sasha warmly.

   Sasha followed the receptionist to a large wooden door.  The
receptionist opened it to reveal Stan's office.  It was a huge room with a
massive antique desk, a sofa, a conference table, and a panoramic view of
the city through the wall of glass on the far side of the room.

   "Come in, Sasha!  Come in!" Stan said tenderly.  "What a surprise it was
to hear from you.  Have a seat!"

   He pointed to the chairs in front of his desk.  Sasha seated herself.

   "Would you like anything?" Stan asked.  "Water?  Coffee?  Tea?  Soda?"

   "Coffee." Sasha said.  "Coffee would be great."

   The receptionist returned a moment later with a porcelain cup of hot
coffee, and retreated, closing the office door behind her.  Sasha held the
warm mug between her hands.

   "Now, what is so urgent that it couldn't even wait until this
afternoon?" Stan asked her.

   "Chidi Nguyen is blackmailing me." Sasha didn't beat around the bush.

   "Oh, dear." Stan responded.  "What's going on?"

   Sasha told Stan everything.  First the menacing encounter in the
restaurant bathroom, then a blow-by-blow description of the prior night's
events at the strip club.  She omitted not a single detail.

   "Boy." Stan exhaled a long breath.  "I'm sorry that happened to you. 
I've always known that Chidi is a piece of garbage, but I had no idea he
was a rapist.  I feel bad that I introduced him into your life.  Have you
called the police to report the rape?"

   "No - how could I?  He has video of me stripping and having sex in his
club.  Who would believe me?  Nobody.  And now he wants to be my pimp."
Sasha began to sob.

   "Hey, hey," Stan came around the desk and sat down next to Sasha.  He
put his arm around her and held her as she heaved.  "It's going to be ok."

   "Is it?  Can it ever be?" Sasha cried.

   "It can be, it will be." Stan reassured her.  "I like you, Sasha. 
You're a special one.  You're a complicated girl, but you've got a big
heart and a kind soul.  Your future is bright and you don't deserve any of
this.  I'm going to take care of it."

   "How?" Sasha begged.  She was skeptical, but she wouldn't have asked for
Stan's help in the first place if she didn't think he could do something.

   "Let me worry about that." Stan replied.

   "I don't know why you're so kind to me, Stan, but I appreciate you."
Sasha whispered.  He hugged her warmly.

   "I like you." He said.  "You made quite an impression upon me."

   Sasha pressed her temple into Stan's chest.

   "But Sasha," Stan continued.  "Understand that in my world, everything
is transactional.  I will fix this situation for you.  Then you owe me."

   "Oh no!" Sasha exclaimed, sitting up with a start.  "No -- not more!"

   "No, no, no." Stan reassured her.  "Not like Chidi.  No.  I may be a
dirty old man, but I don't need to use rape and blackmail to get sex.  No.
That's not what I am talking about.  Some day, though, I may need something
from you.  If that day comes, I will expect you to recognize your
obligation without question."

   Sasha felt reassured by Stan's words.  "Ok.  Yes.  I will." She
promised.

   Stan stroked her cheek lovingly.  "I'm glad you called me, Sasha.  And
I'm glad to help you.  Head home.  Keep your phone on, I may be calling."

   Sasha thanked Stan again, hugged him, and left his office.  The car ride
home took twenty minutes.  She opened the door to her apartment.  Her cell
phone rang.

   "Hello?" Sasha answered.

   "Sasha, it's Stan." Stan said.  "It's taken care of.  Chidi won't be
bothering you ever again.  He won't be reaching out to your father.  And he
is not expecting you to work for him in his club, or anywhere else."

   "Oh my god!" Sasha could not believe her ears.  How could her life shift
from total collapse back to normal in a just one instant?  "I don't even
know how to thank you, Stan.  This is amazing.  You are amazing!"

   "You're welcome.  Just remember our understanding." Stan said.

   "I will.  I promise." Sasha responded gratefully.

   "One last thing," Stan continued.  "Chidi is going to call you shortly.
Pick up.  I know you probably don't want to talk to him, but I want you to
answer the call.  And I want you to record it.  Can you do that?"

   "Yes," Sasha replied, in her mind walking through the steps required to
record a phone call.  "I think I can.  Yes."

   "Good." Said Stan.  "Keep the recording.  Put it on a flash drive and
put that in a safe deposit box at your bank.  Got it?"

   "I've got it.  Thank you, Stan.  From the bottom of my heart, thank
you!"

   "You're welcome.  Take care." Stan hung up.

   Not ten minutes later Sasha's phone rang again.  She started her cell
phone's recording software.

   "Hello?" Sasha answered.

   "Hello, Sasha?  This is Chidi." The voice on the other end said.

   "What do you want?" She asked coldly.

   "I want to tell you I am sorry." Chidi said.  "I am sorry that I
threatened to call your father.  I am sorry that I tried to make you work
at my club.  I am sorry that I filmed you and John without your
permission."

   "Is that it?" Sasha asked, unmoved.

   "I am sorry that I assaulted you." Chidi said.

   "Raped me." Sasha corrected him.

   "I am sorry ...  that I raped you." Chidi said, haltingly.  "I have
destroyed the recording of you and John.  I will never bother you again.  I
will not contact your father."

   Sasha's train had gone completely off the rails.  Not even twelve hours
earlier, Sasha was terrified that she might lose her job, her career, her
family, her boyfriend -- her entire life.  She had been terrified that her
prospects as an up-and-coming investment banker were shot.  She was staring
down the barrel of an entirely different life as a sex worker.

   If she were being honest, there were aspects of the fantasy of sex work
that Sasha found powerfully arousing.  The reality of actually becoming a
sex worker, however, represented a future that Sasha was entirely
unprepared to embrace.  For now, anyway, one night as a nude waitress and
one night of stripping had been sufficient to scratch that itch.  Had Sasha
been forced to capitulate to Chidi's demands, the trajectory of her life
would have felt dark and terrifying.  Forfeiting her hopes and dreams, her
relationships, her future, would have devastated Sasha.

   But then, in the space of an instant, her life was suddenly back on
track.  Sasha's control over had been restored.  The ominous storm clouds
that had massed over Sasha's head began to part.  The actual sky outside of
Sasha's apartment window literally looked brighter and bluer to her.  Even
the coffee evaporating and burning at the bottom of the pot that John had
brewed that morning now suddenly smelled delicious.

   "Anything else?" Sasha asked Chidi.

   "No, that's all." He responded.

   Sasha ended the call.  She transferred the recording to her computer,
from which she saved it to a flash drive.  Sasha walked the mile to her
bank with a spring in her step.  She rented a safe deposit box for the
flash drive, and then took herself out to lunch.

   It takes some seriously bad luck to need so much good luck, but Sasha
felt at that moment like the luckiest young woman in the world.