Night of the Fucked -- Strip Club Transformation
All who appear in this are over 18 and this is pure fantasy.
Tonight, was the bachelorette party of my friend Melissa, a small and shy church girl who was going to get married tomorrow. She saw a movie about them a few months back and she commented that it couldn't be really like that. Latching onto that, a few of us decided we would let her find out.
The Stud House was on the edge of town, and it promised to make any woman run home to their man hot and bothered. Be it talent or natural gifts I didn't know, this wasn't my kind of place. If I wanted to see men wave their junk, I had the internet for that. However, I wasn't going to miss out on a night of fun with my friends. We went the full nine yards for Melissa. Stretch limo, wine, and champagne, and a healthy number of singles to stuff into thongs.
I was in the front with the driver, a young dark-skinned man who would steal glances in the back every once in a while. He was nice looking and if he wasn't on the job, I would consider hitting on him. But working in customer service taught me not everyone likes to be hit on during the job, we had a smile to put on and didn't want to deal with the shit a customer had. In the back with Melissa were six other women, all enjoying their drinking. I couldn't drink due to a medical condition so it made me the designated "Sober Leader".
Some of the girls were dressed in revealing clothes, showing skin from low cut tops or tight pants, and some were modest so Melissa didn't seem out of place. She was a good friend from my childhood, grew up next door. But while she was the quiet and conservative one, I was the tomboy and wild child that every parent feared would be their daughters' friend and spread the "sickness" as one woman called it. It was no secret I liked who I liked but Melissa was a friend who I cared for, not a woman whose pants I was trying to get into. That would be Trevor, an average man who treated her well and was most likely having a bachelor party of his own tonight.
Soon, the limo changed lanes and a neon sign stuck out, "The Stud House" with a picture of a horse's head off to the side. I leaned my head back and called to the girls, "Who's ready to see some men dance for your money?"
A series of "me" in different feminine tones and volumes responded that was soon followed by laughter and cheers. I caught a glimpse of the driver and he had a smirk on his face. Cute but sadly on the job. The limo pulled up to the front and from inside the brick building, I could hear muted music playing with a deep bass so that people could feel the music dance along their skin. Music that even a blind person would know what was going on inside.
I hopped out of the passenger seat of the limo and politely closed the door behind me. The window rolled down and the driver called out, "you have my number to call?"
I leaned down, trying to give a nice view to the driver, and with a smile, "I'll text you when we are ready to go. And apologies about the mess in advance. I'll try to keep them from getting to blitzed."
"Appreciated ma'am," he replied as I saw his eyes look down. I kept the smile and pulled away. I knew what I was doing but adding a wink or making a comment would make it clear I was hitting on him. Let him wonder while we were gone. If he pursued after we came back, might reel him in.
Melissa and the other girls got out of the back end of the limo, whooping and hollering. Some were buzzed already while others were just getting started. A headcount gave me seven girls. Seven would be the magic number I would need to keep an eye on. With a bit of a rush, the girls headed in, a burly security guard, with a smile on his face, held the door open as if expecting us when I figured he did it for all the patrons. As I started to pass him, I told him, "I'll keep them in check. Don't want to make your job harder."
His smile grew a bit and nodded his head.
I didn't know how I missed it, maybe the tracks were in the middle of changing, but I just noticed the loud music had switched from a bassey tune to a country-like violin piece. Inside, the place had the main lights focused on the stage with dim lights for the viewing area. Near the center stage was a reserved table that the girls flocked to. On stage, there was a man in a cowboy hat and boots and a small thong to hide the goods.
Before I joined the girls, I went over to the bartender, a busty woman with long dark hair, tanned skin, and a tight black t-shirt. She flashed a smile at me and asked, "you with the party?"
I nodded my head and replied, "I need a designated driver bracelet."
The woman smiled and reached under the bar. "So did you draw the short straw or volunteer?"
"Medical condition so short straw always drawn." The woman came up with several bracelets of the purple kinds and one of the green kinds. They seemed to glow a bit but it could have been an effect of the lights.
"Tell them to put the purple ones on, that way we know their drinks are on that tab. You need to put both of them on the same wrist. I may know first aid but that doesn't mean I want to use it tonight if it can be avoided." She handed over the bracelets and I smiled.
"My hero. Thanks." I quickly put the bracelets on my wrist, green above the purple to make sure my safety was noted first. I then headed over to the girls. The girls were watching the cowboy who was trying to perform for the audience but seemed to be mainly focused on our group. Either he liked a lot of attention or knew he could get paid well by us in tips.
Once I got to the table, I handed out the bracelets and said, "if you want to get drunk you need to put these on or else you are paying for yourself." Quickly the girls snapped them up like thirsty survivors. Warn them they won't have free drinks and they will pay attention, regardless of a distracting package on stage. After things settled, I took a seat next to Melissa.