Minky and Stephanie napped, showered, readied themselves, then tried not to wolf down the delicious meal brought to their room. According to Matt, they were sluts, so they were not allowed to eat at the dining room table. That was fine with them because the food tasted so wonderful it didn't matter where they ate.
Matt had surprised them both by bringing several boxes to their room. "Inside are costumes," he'd told them. "Tonight, dress as Old West bar maidens. I'm sure you'll look good enough to eat," he'd added wolfishly.
The girls oohed and ahhed over the costumes, and when all was said and done, did admit they looked the part. Minky's blonde hair complimented the floor-length rose-colored dress, trimmed with cream lace. The neckline was so low cut that she was half afraid her tits would come loose, and she'd had Stephanie synch the back so tightly she could barely breathe. But at least her tits would stay intact.
Stephanie looked the part of the bar maiden in a royal blue gown similar to Minky's. Minky thought Steph's neckline looked way better as she had much more cleavage to bare. Ah well.
At last the three piled into Matt's vehicle. He drove through the city for what seemed like hours, and finally they arrived at what looked like an old-time saloon. Matt turned to them, "Ok, ladies, here we are. This is actually a dancing joint. The men are permitted to touch you here, just like in the old days. There's a mixed crowd, from young horny men to old fat geezers. Have fun. Oh, and any money you make you can consider to be mine!"
All too soon they left the safe confines of the van and were standing in the doorway, next to a sign proclaiming "Amateur Night...Show Us Your Goods."
Minky smiled thinly. Yeahhhhhhh...she knew Matt would be up to something like this. Next to her, Stephanie was visibly shaking, and she pawed at Minky's arm, "We're going to...strip?!"
The old, grizzled doorman heard her. "Sure, lil' missy, if the gentlemen pay you 'nough. You 'ere for ama-ter night?"
Minky cleared her throat, "Well, yes, I guess. We've never done this before..."
The doorman leaned in close to her. She could smell the chewing tobacco on his breath as he whispered in her ear, "I'll show you the ropes, missy."
"Oh great," Minky tried to act excited.
The doorman gave them instructions and they went to the sound booth to pick out a song. They opted to dance together, mainly because Stephanie had a death grip on Minky's arm. There wasn't much to choose from in the dance music department, but after all, this WAS a themed club.
In just a few minutes, the sound booth gave them a heads up, and they headed up on stage. There were hoots and catcalls from the men around the stage, and at first, both girls almost froze. Then the sounds of Irish fiddle music filled the air and soon both girls took up the beat. It was a rather quick beat, not like the normal sensuous strip club music, but Minky and Stephanie had watched the girl prior to them and she hadn't stripped at all. Apparently, the women just danced and then they made their rounds and made friends with the men.
Soon their song ended and there was appreciative clapping within the dim room. They headed backstage and Minky found the girl they'd watched. "We're new here. What do we do now?"
"Nobody went over the rules with you?"
"No."
The girl sighed, looked bored, and chomped on a rather large piece of chewing gum, "Ok, nobody touches you unless they tip you. Usually it's ten dollars, and then you sit on their lap, dance in front of them if they like, flirt, whatever, only for a couple songs. Then you have to move on unless they want to tip again. They want to cop more of a feel, then you take 'em upstairs. Upstairs is...that's a little different."
Minky was shocked, "You mean...this is a ... whorehouse?" The word was out before she could stop it.
"No, bitch, this ain't a WHORE house. Some of the girls might go all the way but most of us just do hand jobs. That doesn't make us whores."
'Holy shit,' Minky thought. She wondered if Matt knew what went on here. This was no "dance club."
But they were here. She hadn't thought to bring along money for a cab that evening, and Matt wasn't coming back til midnight. She grabbed Stephanie's hand and pulled her into a corner. "Now, we need to go our separate ways and try to make as much money as we can."
"Why? It's just for Matt."
"Exactly. We're going to pay him lots because he's the one who brought us here in the first place. Now, shake your tits, make out with some guy, but for god's sake, don't let anyone fuck you without a rubber. And DON'T fucking cry!"
There were tears in Stephanie's eyes anyway, but Minky pushed her in some guy's direction and headed towards the front of the room. The doorman was sitting at the bar, she noticed, and he smiled lecherously as she passed. Minky was grabbed a couple times, and she slapped the hands away, "Not without a tip."
One guy did give her ten dollars, and the tucked it away by her breasts and spent a song's length in his lap. She actually started to like his touch. Well, maybe not LIKE it, but she started to get turned on. After one song, the guy lost interest and she went in search of someone else.
After four more songs, and 25 minutes of getting her tits squeezed, her thighs groped and her ass pinched, Minky went straight to the bar. She needed a drink if she was going to cope with this evening's entertainment. She'd only made fifty bucks so far, and she was beginning to NOT like this place at all. On the other hand, poor Stephanie had obviously gotten over her dislike of this joint as she was making out with a thirty-something suit.
"Captain 'n diet, please," she told the barkeep, then she turned as she felt a nudge at her left elbow. It was the doorman.
He took her hand, and placed two crisp one-hundred dollar bills within. "Upstairs, now," he said. Gone was the lecherous stare. Gone was the old-geezer dialect. And strangely enough, in it's place, was a firm, dangerous air.
Minky looked at the money, "Wait a minute. If you think I'm going to fuck you because you paid me this, you're wrong. I'm not a whore."
"Yes, you are. Upstairs."
He headed for the stairs and Minky downed her drink. Why the hell was she doing this? And why the HELL was it turning her on?
On her way, she grabbed Stephanie by the hair and was glad when she yelped. "Quit making out and make us some money. This isn't about YOUR fucking pleasure. I'll be upstairs."
Then she turned on her heel and stomped up the creaky stairway.
She reached the top and paused. There was a long hallway to her right, with rooms extending both ways as far as she could see. Some of them were open and as she walked across the floor, she got glimpses inside. One was full of mirrors. There was one with only a swing inside. One had a dentist's chair. The realization dawned that these were smaller theme rooms, where men could bring the dancing girls to do with them as they pleased.
Minky saw a movement to her left, farther down the hall, and she saw the doorman motioning to her. Her heels clicked on the floor and soon she was beside him, looking into a room...and not just a room...but what appeared to be a mini-dungeon. There were hooks from the ceiling and hooks on the floor. One side of the room was covered with whips of all shapes and sizes, floggers, hand cuffs, chains, ropes, collars, gags, blindfolds and a number of other SM toys. The other wall was covered in full by a mirror.
