Sasha Dances at the Landing Strip

TW: This story includes public exhibitionism, and sex without consent.

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.