Alice was prepping up in Aphrodite's dressing room. The establishment's name always made her cringe. Naming a place like this after the Greek goddess of love felt pompous, desperate for any form of class and recognition. It was a strip-club, just a frigging strip-club! Get over yourself, for Christ's sake...
The blonde girl put on knee-high socks and a shirt that made both her flat belly and the upper part of her bra visible. Finally, she put on a checkered schoolgirl skirt, which made her sigh deeply. The piece of cloth was not so different from the one she used to wear in high school not two years prior, except this one was a lot shorter. Things had really gone downhill from there, huh?
"Why are you sulking, blondie? Long night ahead?" said the woman next to her.
Alice turned to her fellow stripper — it always felt weird to think of someone else in those terms —, a forty-something with too much make-up on her face, but who had a motherly attitude.
"You could say that," she answered. "I've been working here for almost a month now. It's just… settling in."
"Oh, a newbie!" the nice woman teased. "What's your stage name, love?"
"Candy," Alice replied, blushing.
"A bit common, but it does the trick. Men like candies. Everyone likes candies! You can call me Crystal, I'm not a fan of originality either."
They shook hands and both went back to polishing their hair and make-up in front of their respective mirrors.
"So, less than a month in the sweatshop, huh?" said Crystal. "What made a sweet thing like you end up in this dump? You don't look the part."
"Family trouble and bad life choices," Alice tried to divert.
"C'mon, Candy, give me some candy!"
"Okay, okay. I almost flunked high school, and completely failed college. My mom told me she put some money on the side for my tuition but ended up losing it all in poker and blackjack. Now she's skipped town to meet a former lover, sugar daddy or something, and left me with a 5 figure debt and a D- average score that got me kicked out of uni. So... yeah, like I said: family trouble and bad life choices."
"That's rough, blondie. Though I have to say, you had a shot and you didn't take it. Some of it is on your mom, but some of it is on you."
Alice combed her golden hair more violently, pulling on it to make it sting. Thanks for the heads up, Crystal! She knew she blew it, no need to rub it in. Her former high school teachers were right, she was a screw-up, a dumb bimbo who ended up as a college dropout. They had been right on the mark... Everything she was getting, she deserved.
"Thanks for the pep talk, that always helps," she replied dryly, while applying some lipstick.
"Sorry, didn't mean to bring you down. However, it explains why you feel a little out of place here. How old are you, Candy? 22, 24?"
"19."
"Yeesh, that's harsh!" the older woman grimaced. "The job's gonna eat you alive, darling. Y'know, maybe you should get a page from your mom's book."
"How so?" Alice replied, bitterly. "By losing all that money I don't have in a casino and ending up in even more crippling debt?"
"No, I meant the sugar daddy thing, finding someone who provides. A pretty thing like you could wrap any old fart in this strip-club around her finger in no time and squeeze a bit of money out of him. Find yourself a cash cow to milk is all I'm sayin'."
"I don't know…" the teen blonde replied, hesitantly. "I mean, I started stripping only a month ago. It's not like I want to become a middle-aged man's trophy wife. And having sex with an old geezer sounds gross."
"A "trophy wife"?" Crystal laughed. "I wasn't planning this far ahead! I only meant harmless dating and pampering. You're going faster than me girl, but I like where your head's at. You might be right, marry an old cash cow and divorce his grizzled ass! Sex might be a bit nasty, but who cares if the money's good. That's what I'd do if I was 20 years younger. Guys in there don't want someone my age anymore, but a dolly bird like you would make an excellent trophy wife."
The red sign lit up above the door. Bill, the club owner, was signaling it was her turn on stage next.
"Thanks, Crystal. Not the best 5-year-plan, but I'll think on it," Alice said, standing up.
As she passed next to her, the motherly stripper slapped her ass with a loud smack and burst out laughing.
"Cheer up, kiddo. Now, get out there and milk that cow!"
***
Alice walked to the stage while stroking her stinging left buttcheek. Ugh, tonight was off to a great start… But whatever, "The show must go on", as a great philosopher once said.
When the young blonde entered the scene, pop music was blasting out of the speakers and all the spotlights turned to her. She walked to the pole and started dancing, swaying her curvy hips, fondling her breasts, swiveling around the pole and putting herself in enticing postures.
At least, she liked this part. All the attention on her while she couldn't see the crowd in the dark. This way, Alice could imagine she was dancing alone, or at the very least for an audience of classy young businessmen. She felt hot, desired, irresistible even!
It reminded her of her high school days, when she was the hottest shit on earth and no other girl could hold a candle to her. Every guy in Fowland High, from the jocks to the nerds — even some teachers and members of the school staff! — couldn't help but have their eyes glued to her when she strolled around in the hallways.
That made all the other girls jealous, and Alice loved that, oh, so much. She was one of the school's queen bees back then, and no one dared cross her. At least not head on, because there had been quite a few unsavory gossips spread about her behind her back...
The 19-year-old girl doubted any of her former female classmates would be jealous of her situation now, though. In Aphrodite, when the lights turned on, Alice often felt depressed at the sight of her audience, mostly composed of balding men in their forties and fifties, deadbeat dads with beer bellies. But that was her crowd now... That's where she belonged, down in the dump.
The young blonde removed her shirt, and the lights went on in the room. As expected, she was stripping for a crowd of aging men, drinking slowly while looking at her legs and thighs. Most of them were here alone, spending their Friday night gawking at a girl who could've well been their daughter.
What a bunch of creeps... She tried not to think too much on that and stroked the dance pole obscenely, giving it slow kisses as if it had been a hard phallus. That made them all go crazy. Men were so predictable and easy to please, it was ridiculous.
Alice turned to hide a disheartened sigh and started to slowly remove her bra, hearing whistles come from the tables near the stage. Then, she saw him, and froze completely.
The grey-haired man with glasses was watching her, his elbow carelessly resting on the bar and drinking a small glass of bourbon. His mean eyes met hers and Alice understood he had recognized her as much as she recognized him. Mr. Thompson, her former high school teacher!
And not just any teacher, the worst one by far! From Fowland High's overall teaching body, he had been the one to chastise and berate her the most for her awful grades and bad behavior. The teen blonde remembered all too well the tantrums he'd throw in class, terrorizing his students — and her particularly — or the demeaning comments he'd mumble every time he returned a paper with a failing grade back to her.
Mr. Thompson didn't play favorites, no one seemed good enough to meet his criteria, but he had his scapegoats and his preferred targets. And among his numerous students, Alice had always been his favorite victim... She remembered having insomnia the nights preceding the days she had class with him. In her short life, rarely had she resented someone so much! And the feeling seemed to be mutual.
The 55-year-old man grinned playfully and raised his cup at her, as if to congratulate her on a life achievement. It was a nightmare... Nothing short of a nightmare! Why did she have to meet again with this dirtbag, especially in a disgraceful situation like this?
Alice bit the inside of her cheek, trying to use pain to get out of this horrendous dream, but there was no escaping it. It was actually happening! She really was on stage, half-naked and her hand clutched around a stripper pole, in front of Mr. Thompson!
And since she wasn't waking up, she had no choice but to go back to her strip tease...
The 19-year-old girl turned away from him, trying to hide her discomfort, and removed her bra, much to the enjoyment of her audience who whistled frantically.
"God damn, never saw this hottie on stage up until now," muttered a voice at her feet. "Look at those knockers!"
"Been coming more often since she got here," laughed someone else, next to the first one. "Bill always finds a way to bring in fresh meat."
"Yeah, but it's usually some divorced housewife, we always get the bottom of the barrel. But now, this! This is somethin' else! The girl looks barely legal."
"Aye, a little siren fresh off the boat," joked a third voice.
Uncaring of the comments from her audience, Alice strolled around with a flirtatious smile, raising her checkered skirt to show her flimsy panties to the men in the crowd. She resumed her dance, knowing the people surrounding her could catch glimpses of her shaved crotch and her firm asscheeks beneath the thin fabric of her G-string from time to time.
The college dropout positioned herself on the floor and moved her butt up and down perversely, as if she was in the middle of an intercourse. Guys around her laughed and threw dollarbills at her. She was the center of everyone's attention, once again. But also of the attention of a man she never thought she would meet again...
Was Mr. Thompson still watching her? The pretty blonde hoped not. She prayed he took off after recognizing her, like a decent person would. But what if the old professor was still at the bar, looking at her flaunt her body? The very idea made her feel so ashamed! Yet, thinking about it inexplicably made her waist's movements more intense...
The crowd howled like a pack of wolves, and Alice understood she wouldn't sate their hunger with just this. She got back up and walked around the stage, lowering herself in front of several spectators to let them get a good view of her breasts.
Several hands tried to reach for her, but she got away before they could touch. Seeing their drunk and wrinkled faces grossed her out. As if a girl still in her teens would let herself be groped by washed out pervs so easily!
Yet, Alice had to pretend to find their jokes funny and alluring. She had to make them believe they had a shot with a goddess like her. It was atrociously humiliating to play into these scumbags' delusional fantasies, but pleasing them was her job now, her purpose in life...
They were the ones supporting her since her mother left, and she had to keep her last allies in this world happy. It was a matter of survival. The blonde stripper had come to learn the fastest way to a man's heart — and wallet — wasn't through his stomach, but through a... lower organ.
She got on all fours to walk next to them, amongst them, which she didn't usually do during her shows. Was she going the extra-mile because of tonight's unannounced customer? Nah, that couldn't be it...
Being finally at her spectators' level, the 19-year-old girl was able to look them straight in the eyes, and what she saw was depressing. Badly dressed truckers, janitors and garbage collectors with misaligned teeth, blue-collared workers with eyes drowned in alcohol and smoke...
God, they all looked so pathetic! So different from the dashing freshmen from wealthy families she hung out with back in Fowland High and in college. They were the salt and scum of the earth. But didn't Alice look even worse, prancing around half-naked for their entertainment? Debasing herself and disrobing to satisfy their lust?
All along her little show, the young blonde wondered if Mr. Thompson was still looking at her. She didn't dare check the bar again. What would her strict former teacher think, seeing her play eye candy for a crowd of men his age who behaved so disrespectfully? Would he want to help her out of this place or would he consider the bad schoolgirl he so often scolded was finally getting what she deserved? The whole situation was so wrong and twisted.
"Hey girlie, what's your name again?" someone called her in the crowd.
"Candy, sir," Alice answered, feeling uneasy from having so many spectators an arm's length away from her.
"So formal! Come on over, Candy."
The pretty blonde looked at the man who had spoken, a trucker with a big gruffly beard and a cap on his head. He seemed to have had one drink too many... or five. It was a bad idea to get close to intoxicated customers.
"You're frightening her, you moron!" joked another drunkard next to him.
"Just you wait, let me work my magic. C'mere Candy, I got a lil' somethin for ya!"
The trucker took a handful of banknotes out of his wallet and jiggled them in her direction as if it had been a treat to lure an animal. Ugh, it was so humiliating to be treated like this! To be reduced to a moneygrubbing stripper!
Thing was, that sloshed jerk wasn't wrong... Alice needed that money. It was the reason she was in Aphrodite in the first place, and Bill was generous enough to let his workers keep a substantial amount of their tips. Hence, feeling her self-esteem lower once more — it was becoming a habit, these days — the beautiful blonde got closer, trying to hide how mortified she was behind a bright smile.
"What can I do for you, honey?" she asked, seductively.
"You weren't joking, you do know your way around a lady," said the second drunkard, impressed.
"Damn right I do!" boasted the trucker. "Now, Candy, shake that ass if you want to get your hands on my hard-earned cash!"
Alice had gotten too close, and the truck driver was able to raise her skirt and shove the dollarbills in the strings of her panties. She squealed in surprise and moved away, customers weren't usually so handsy! He didn't go further but, seeing his insistent stare, she understood he intended for her to do the job he paid her for.
"Of course, sir," she replied, trying to hide her embarrassment.
The blonde stripper did as she was told and started shaking her butt close to the trucker's face. She heard booming laughs erupt all around him, which made her blush from shame. God, she hoped Mr. Thompson left the bar by now and wasn't watching her act this way! Why was her mind so focused on him, anyway? It's not like his opinion mattered, since he wasn't her teacher anymore. And yet... it did. It really did!
"Hell yeah, now we're talking!" shouted someone behind her.
"I wanna see more! How much for your panties, Candy?"
Alice was left a bit dumbfounded. The honest answer would have been "nothing", since ending up naked was part of her routine. But she had come to learn money was part of the performance. Customers didn't just enjoy watching her show, they enjoyed buying it. Buying her... And, even though she resented it, the 19-year-old girl had to play along.
"I don't know, big boy," the topless blonde replied, teasingly. "How much do you think my knickers are worth?"
Her answer seemed to be the one her spectators were looking for, and several men started throwing banknotes at her feet, sometimes aiming at her butt and belly.
"Show us the goods, Candy!" someone yelled.
Alice looked at the floor, at the dozen dollarbills at her feet, and considered it was enough to go on with her show. She didn't try counting them. In a way, she didn't want to know the precise amount. The pitiful amount of money her dignity was worth, nowadays...
She got back up and faced away from the crowd. Even after a month, she still had a hard time getting naked in front of an audience. The young stripper lifted her checkered schoolgirl skirt and removed her panties. She slowly and seductively made them fall to the floor, only shaking her hips to make them slid along her legs and thighs. Then, she caressed her exposed ass and spread her buttcheeks, giving Aphrodite's customers a full view of her intimate parts.
When she threw her pink panties away, she heard someone cheer after catching it in the crowd, as if it had been a bouquet of flowers at a wedding. God knows what that anonymous creep intended to do with the underwear she had just worn... She preferred not to think about it.
Now only left with her skirt, knee high socks and high heels to cover parts of her nude body, Alice laid on the floor. She rolled across the stage, imitating a snake's crawl to get from one group of customers to another to let them get a good look at her. She felt their eyes all over her, focusing on her cute little butt, her shapely breasts and her shaved pubis.
Even though she kept on smiling and licking her lips to tease them, it felt weird. Just a month ago, her crotch had only been seen by a select few boyfriends. And those teenage boys had to earn it! Being able to admire Alice Thornwood's beauty, the body of the high school's sexiest girl up close, was a privilege every guy in her class could only dream of having.
And now, less than two years after turning 18, she was selling this privilege for a fistful of dollars to this crowd of deadbeat losers. To the dozens of men surrounding her who were probably her former classmates' fathers' age... Talk about falling from grace.
Thinking about it usually made Alice feel sorry for herself, but this time, an odd feeling took hold of her. Her body was warming up from being watched. Yet, nothing was different from every other night she did this strip tease. Nothing except... him. But it couldn't have been him causing her to feel like that. What a silly idea!
The 19-year-old girl got back up and took hold of the stage's stripping pole again. She spun around it, making her schoolgirl skirt flounce, and started to rub her whole body against the metal bar, as if it was her dancing partner. Her very intimate dancing partner... Because, as the young college dropout felt her arousal increase, the way she ground on the pole became more and more sexual.
She finally undid her skirt and watched it fall on the floor. The strip club customers all cheered, they finally could see everything!
Most importantly, Mr. Thompson could see everything... Alice finally glanced back at the bar and got confirmation the middle-aged professor hadn't stopped watching her. The old fucker had seen everything of her time on stage. He was still contemplating the exposed body of his former student, smiling widely while she humiliated herself on the scene.
For a split second, their eyes met, and the young blonde could see the wicked pleasure the 55-year-old man found in looking at every detail of her beautiful figure. His stare was different from the other customers'. It was lustful, but also calm and poised, as if he knew something every other person in the room didn't.
Alice shivered at his determined glare, but didn't break eyecontact. Positioned as she was, she was blatantly flashing her pussy to him, and it felt as if her former teacher had the innermost belief he was going to find his way to it...
It wasn't Alice's first time performing and she got used to feeling like a piece of prized meat for Aphrodite's patrons, but tonight was different. Having someone she knew from before watching her every move was different.
The fact her former teacher, a man who taught her for several years when she was underage, who admonished her for skipping classes or for talking during his lessons was seeing how far she had fallen… It felt indecent, degrading… and, inexplicably, exciting!