From Famine to Feast:

Chapter 16: The Twins For The Win

The following Friday evening, Yasmín texted Alexis and I, saying that Lance had told her to take us for a girls' night out. We were with Chris and Ty when we received the message.

"Girl's night out? Does that mean that we're not invited?" asked Ty, sounding hurt.

"Duh. That's exactly what it means," answered Alexis. "Unless you've had an operation recently that I should know about."

"Are you going?" Ty pouted.

She looked at me, and I nodded. "Of course, we're going."

"Well, what will we do while you're out?" persisted Ty.

"You boys can jerk each other off till we get back," retorted Alexis, sounding annoyed.

"I'm sure you'll think of something. What did you do before you had girlfriends?" I asked, looking at Chris.

"Homework, video games, the gym. Nothing nearly as exciting as the last few months," lamented Chris.

"Jeez! We're only going to be gone for one evening. Don't act like we're moving out of state for a new job or doing a semester abroad. We'll be sure to give you lonely neglected boys extra attention tomorrow. Don't act like such sad little puppy dogs." I gave Chris a hug and Alexis kissed Ty on the forehead. "Go out to a bar or something and have a drink. Do something fun without us. Now, it's time for you to go. We need to get ready. We'll see you later." We shooed them out of our room as they whined.

After they shuffled dejectedly out the door, I heard both of their phones ping. "See, there's something for you to do already. You'll be fine." I closed the door behind them and turned to Alexis. "Oh my god, you'd think we just broke up with them. I mean it is nice to feel wanted, but a short break will be healthy. And it will be fun to just have a night out with just us girls."

"I know, right?"

"Yasmín didn't say anything else, did she? What are we supposed to wear? Where is she taking us?"

"She didn't say where we're going, but she did say that we should wear something sexy."

"Of course, she did. I've never seen her wear anything that wasn't sexy. That's just who she is."

We did our best to rise to the occasion. We wore short skirts, tight blouses, and heels. We did our hair and make-up and were ready to go by the time Yasmín texted us that she was waiting outside in her car.

As always, Yasmín looked amazing. She refused to tell us where we were going, saying only that it would be a fun new adventure and that the night would be memorable. When we pulled into a parking lot in the low-rent section of downtown, we finally got to see what she had in mind.

"What is this place?" asked Alexis as we got out of the car. "Is it a club?" The sign said "Tetons" and the marquee said "Live Shows Nightly".

"Yes," she answered. "It isn't a very high-end club, but it is a lot of fun. In fact, it is the dive vibe aspect that I like best. I like to come here sometimes to let loose."

There was a short line at the door. The big bouncer welcomed us and waved us in without charging us the cover fee. Inside, it looked much like I expected it to. There was a bar with two female bartenders, a stage that was still dark, a lot of tables with people drinking and talking, and loud music playing. There must have been about 100 people in the bar already. I noticed that about two-thirds of the patrons were men. We sat down in the middle of the crowd and took in our surroundings. A waitress in a skimpy outfit came and took our order. When she brought our drinks, she said, "If you want to enter the contest, there is a sign-up at the bar." She pointed to the end of the bar, then she turned and walked to the next table.

"What contest is she talking about?" I asked.

"Oh," said Yasmín, "this club has shows every night, including various contests that you can enter if you want to. Sometimes they do karaoke, sometimes wet T-shirt contests, sometimes strip-teases, and sometimes pole dancing."

"Is that why you like to come here?" inquired Alexis. "To see the shows?"

"Yeah. They're entertaining. At first, I liked to watch. After a while, I started entering the contests."

"You did? Which contests did you enter?" Alexis queried.

"Well, I can't sing very well and I don't know how to pole dance, though I've thought about taking lessons."

"So... wet T-shirt or striptease?" I asked tentatively, arching my eyebrows.

"Both."

"You got up on stage and took your clothes off in front of everyone?"

"Only during the striptease. During the other contests I was wearing a T-shirt, of course. And panties. You don't want to get your whole outfit wet. And my panties are usually wet already by the time they spray the T-shirts."

"Oh my god!" Alexis exclaimed. "Weren't you scared? I would be so terrified."

"Yes, I was scared—especially the first few times—but that is part of the thrill. I like the adrenaline rush of being seen by everyone. I get such a kick from exposing myself in such a public way. The embarrassment, the shame, the taboo, it all gets me so nervous before it all starts. I get sweaty and feel butterflies in my stomach. Then when the music starts, and the crowd starts to cheer me on, I start to get really into it. I get lost in the moment and feed off of their energy. I love how they enjoy my performance and appreciate my body. The more they want me, the more I want to give them. They get me going, and I try to give them the best performance that I can. The more the crowd showers me with adulation, the more I show them. It's a very positive feedback loop."

"Do they make it rain for you?" asked Alexis.

"Oh yeah, when I make it sexy enough and show them enough skin, they pony up alright. I've made pretty good money here."

"Really? Like how much?" I asked, intrigued.

"Well, first prize in the wet T-shirt contest is $200 plus they cover your bar tab. I've won it a few times. The crowd is unpredictable, so you never know who is going to win. Often, the loudest cheers are for the biggest tits, but not always. Sometimes, it is about the shape of the breasts, sometimes large areolas or prominent nipples win, and other times, a bunch of guys will get really loud to support their girlfriends and wives. But mostly, it is about the girl with the best moves. You really never know."

"Guys bring their girlfriends here?" Alexis was incredulous.

"Oh yeah. All the time. Wives too. The girlfriends and wives often make a show of being offended and humiliated, but I'm convinced their objections are mostly performative. They almost all agree to participate eventually. And they always clearly enjoy it in the end.

"I've also made a lot of cash doing the striptease. There isn't really a contest, but you make plenty when the crowd throws money at you or sticks bills in your undies when you give them extra special attention."

"How much have you made from doing a striptease?" I asked.

"One good dance with an enthusiastic crowd can get you a few hundred dollars after you clean up everything they throw on the stage at the end of the dance. And they'll let you dance more than once if there isn't a long list of girls signed up. One night, I made over $1,000 for 3 dances. Sometimes I come here when I need cash, but mostly I come because it is fun and it gives me a big rush."

We sipped our drinks and contemplated what she had told us. By the time the house lights dimmed on the tables and the spotlight came up on the stage, the place was packed. We were halfway through our second round when the emcee stepped up to the microphone. "Welcome to Tetons, ladies and gentlemen!" There were cheers from the crowd. "Tonight's special entertainment will be a wet T-shirt contest." The cheers were louder. "Any ladies who would like to enter the contest must sign up at the bar." The spotlight spun around to the bar where the bartender was holding up a clipboard and waving it. "We have a supply of white tees backstage for all contestants. Participants will meet backstage in 15 minutes to change. Then, when the ladies are ready, we'll bring them on stage and spray them down. The winners will be determined by the audience. The ones who receive the loudest cheers will win cash prizes. So, ladies, turn your tits into tips and let your money-makers make you money! Sign up now and I'll call you backstage very soon!" There were more cheers and then the house lights came up again.

"Come on!" said Yasmín, excitedly. She stood up, and grabbed our hands, pulling us out of our chairs. "Let's sign up!"

"What? No! No way. I'll cheer for you, but I don't I'm ready for that," protested Alexis.

"I'm not sure..." I began.

"Try it. I know you're nervous, but I promise you'll like it."

"I can't do that in front of all these strangers." I gestured at the crowd.

"That's just it. They're all strangers. You don't have to see them at work tomorrow. You won't run into them in a class the next day. It's like going to the beach. You wear a wet bikini in front of hundreds of people at the beach without even thinking twice about it, right? You don't care if they see you because they're strangers and you'll never see them again. The only difference is here they cheer for you and they might even pay you. At the beach, you do it for free and nobody claps."

"Well..." I couldn't argue with her logic.

"Remember what both of you said the other night at Rendezvous?" I looked at her quizzically, not having a clue what she was referring to. "About feeling desired?" I vaguely recalled discussing that. "We all talked about how good it feels to be desired, how knowing that men yearn for you so desperately confirms your desirability, how empowering it feels to know that you can make them want you, how powerful you feel when you embrace your feminine self and display your sexy body for them to appreciate. Look at you two! You look amazing! All these men—and probably many of the women too—will see you up there and absolutely lose their minds. They will see your amazingly beautiful breasts and they will cheer for you. And that will make you feel tremendously powerful and proud. Come on, let's do it together! Just try it this one time."

Neither Alexis nor I answered verbally, but we allowed her to pull us out of our chairs and to the bar. There were other women crowding around the clipboard to sign up. Some seemed excited, others appeared comfortable, like it was no big deal, and a few seemed even more nervous than Alexis and I did.

"I can't believe I'm letting you talk me into doing this," muttered Alexis.

"You have to admit she made a pretty good speech," I pointed out.

"Yeah, that was one hell of a pep talk. Using our own words against us. That's not fair," agreed Alexis.

"It will be fine," Yasmín assured us. "You'll see. Plus, you've both done several other things lately that are much more daring." She grinned slyly until she coaxed guilty smiles out of us. We had to admit she had another good point.

All three of us signed up to enter the contest and then returned to our table to finish our liquid courage before show time. Rather than talk, we simply looked at the crowd and sipped our drinks. The crowd was actually more diverse than I thought it would be. Yes, there were more men than women, but there really were a lot of women, many more than signed up to enter the contest. There were couples that looked like they were on dates. There were groups of friends, some all guys, some all girls. There were people in formal attire, looking like they had come straight from work. There was one large, rowdy group of guys that looked like they might be at a bachelor party. And there were some single people at the bar and at tables in the front. Some of them looked lonely, while others looked like they couldn't wait for the action to start.

Soon, the lighting changed and the emcee returned to the stage. "Last chance to sign up for the wet T-shirt contest." Two giggling women scurried toward the bar and added their names to the list at the last minute. "Alright, all you lovely ladies who are ready to strut your stuff for a chance to win cash prizes, please head to the door to my right in order to slip into something more comfortable. The contest will begin in about 5 minutes. Are we excited or what?" There was a cheer from the crowd.

Yasmín stood up. "Show time is go time, ladies. Let's head backstage."

Alexis and I looked at each other. "Are we really about to do this?" she asked.

"It looks like we are." We both stood up, our trepidation a sharp contrast to Yasmín's enthusiasm. A sizable crowd of women filed through the door and crammed into a small room with benches, lockers, and mirrors.

One of the bartenders met us backstage and announced the directions. "Listen up, ladies. These boxes contain different sized tee-shirts: small, medium, and large. Otherwise, they are all the same. You can leave your clothes in the lockers and change back here after the contest. Contestants should leave their bras here, obviously. Seeing your points is the whole point. You are not going to win if you are wearing a bra. On-stage, you should wear only the tee shirt and your panties. Trust me, you don't want to wear anything else, because you don't want to wear wet clothes for the rest of the night. I speak from experience." There was nervous laughter. "If your panties get too wet, you can always stick them in your purse and go commando for the rest of the evening. Twenty of you have signed up, so we'll have four groups of 5 girls at a time. The groups will be in the order your name is listed on the sign-up sheet. The winner of each round will go to the final round. The winner of the final round will win a cash prize of $200 and your tab will be covered; 2

nd

place will get $100; 3

rd

place will get $50; and 4

th

place will get a drink on the house. 5

th

place should definitely enter again on a weeknight." There was more nervous giggling. "After the contest, please leave the tee shirts in that hamper in the corner. Yes, I wash them after each contest. Any questions?" There was silence. "Alright, best of luck to you all!"

Everyone began to pull their tops off and undo their bras, some faster than others. Alexis and I looked at each other and did the same. We each grabbed a tee shirt from the box of mediums and began to slip them on.

"No," Yasmín reprimanded us in a whispered tone. "Put those back. Get a size small. It will make your boobs look bigger. Plus, when the small shirts get wet, they will still stay skin tight, so your tits will remain visible. The big ones drape like curtains. They aren't as sexy." We shrugged our shoulders and did as she said. Other women were already stripping off their pants and skirts, so we did the same. Luckily, all of us had worn sexy underwear. Soon all the women were in panties, tee shirts, and heels, ready for the contest to begin.

"I'm going to call your names, and I want you to line up in that order," announced the bartender. We got in line. Although the three of us were one after another in line, Yasmín was in a separate group of five from Alexis and I. I was hoping that we would be together for support, but at least she was going before us. We heard the emcee call out the first group and the crowd cheered. We waited nervously in silence while we listened and imagined what was happening on stage. After the first round was over, the girls returned to the locker room. Their faces were flushed with excitement and embarrassment, and their shirts left nothing to the imagination. The girl who won was beaming, but even the others looked really happy, and somewhat relieved. They were all chatting excitedly. Then, the second group was called up to the stage, and the cycle repeated itself. The third group included Yasmín.

"Good luck!" we both said.

She turned around with a huge smile. She was playing with her nipples. "Start stimulating your nipples now. It will look better on stage. Plus, it feels great!" She winked and then disappeared behind the curtain. We listened attentively as the emcee had the girls introduce themselves. Yasmín's voice sounded sultry. Though we couldn't see from backstage, we joined the cheers for her when the audience was voting by making noise for their favorite contestant. We squealed again when the emcee announced that she won her round.

When Yasmín came back, we hugged and congratulated her. She pinched both of our nipples, making us yelp. "That's to make them stand at attention. Be confident out there. Remember, they want to see you, and you want them to see you. All of you!" Then, she swatted us on our butts. "Have fun!" We took deep breaths and walked out onto the stage.

My heart was pounding as I followed Alexis and the other girls. The spotlight blinded us, making us pause temporarily, and then we lined up next to the emcee as our eyes adjusted. The crowd whooped and clapped. Their cheering made me smile, but it also made me sweat, as I realized how many people were looking at us, or more specifically, looking at our boobs.

"Ladies, you all look amazing tonight! Am I right?" The audience cheered. The emcee knew how to whip the crowd into a frenzy. "But I think we can make them look even more amazing if we add some water to their wardrobe, don't you think?" More cheering. "I wonder what they will look like if I spray their tee-shirts. I'm going to aim for the bulls eyes! Let's give it a shot!" Each girl squealed when he sprayed their chest with water. The more he sprayed, the more the shape of their boobs became visible and the more transparent the material became, revealing their dark nipples and areolas under the white shirts.

Alexis was penultimate and I was last in line, which gave me more time to consider what was happening. I was practically shaking from nerves, but I tried to imagine what Yasmín would do. When the emcee finished with Alexis, and stepped toward me, I decided to do a little spin for the audience. With my backside to the crowd, I bent forward a little and shook my thong-covered ass, before completing the turn and facing forward again. The crowd roared and the emcee said, "Whoa, it looks like we've got one that's hot to trot. I better cool her down. Let's get her really wet—if you know what I mean—and see what else she wants to show us!" The first blast of water was cold and made me jump. The audience cheered. He kept spraying until my shirt was soaked. I could feel my nipples hardening even more as they reacted to the cold water, straining against the tight material. When he was finished, he stepped to the side to let everyone admire his handiwork. I pushed my chest forward, and used my arms to squeeze my boobs from the side, making them even more prominent.

"Now let's see who the audience chooses for the winner of this round. Is it contestant number 1?" The crowd clapped and there was some whistling, but it didn't sound very enthusiastic. The second girl received a better response. The third girl, the one with the biggest tits in our group, got a loud cheer. When it was Alexis' turn, I cheered too, along with the guys in the audience. The crowd wasn't as loud as the 3

rd

girl and I felt bad for her. I gave her a consolation kiss on the cheek, which the crowd liked a lot. Then it was my turn. The crowd cheered, but it didn't sound loud enough to beat the 3

rd

girl, so I gave a little shimmy and lifted my arms above my head. They got louder, which emboldened me further, so I cupped my boobs from underneath and squeezed them. The audience roared loudly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a winner! Contestant number 5, Layla—she'll slay ya—has won round 4! Congratulations to all of you lovely ladies. You're all winners in my book. You may head backstage and we'll bring out the final group." Alexis gave me a congratulatory hug and the crowd clapped again as we made our way off stage.