[This story contains themes of nonconsensual / reluctant, coerced, rough sex and humiliation.]
Chapter 1
As she shifted awkwardly in her bus seat, Cyndi found herself feeling a little over-stimulated. A week earlier her best friend Jenn had talked her into getting a full Brazilian wax so that they would look good in their bikinis when they went to Fort Lauderdale. Now Cyndi was feeling a bit silly and a bit embarrassed at the decision. Nevertheless, as the bus rumbled and shook, she seemed to feel every little vibration. In fact, she was having a little difficulty focusing on anything without being distracted by the feeling of her bare pudenda being caressed by the silky fabric of her thong.
As the bus got close to the club where she worked, Cyndi found herself thinking about her boyfriend. She wondered if she was doing the right thing staying with Tommy. They'd been living together for about 6 months. Tommy was damn nice to look at, and very sweet to her. Even so, she wasn't sure if he was motivated to do much besides smoke weed and play video games. He looked good in his jeans though, and she liked his eagerness to make her happy in bed. That last part kind was definitely in the plus column. Still, he was a bit simple if she was totally honest with herself. She hated to think badly of him though. He'd always treated her well, and never argued.
Unhappily, Cyndi forced her mind into business mode. She was about to be on the clock, after all. No time to think about her boyfriend or her sex life. Best to keep your head in the game if you're a young woman serving drinks to a bunch of horny, lonely guys in a strip club.
Cyndi hit the time clock as she entered the employee entrance to the Shimmy Shack. She had been working there a few months and had almost gotten used to the weird routines and absurdities of a "gentlemen's" club. This was the kind of place where lonely guys paid to watch girls dance their way out of cheap costumes and where grooms-to-be agreed to be humiliated on stage for the entertainment of their horny, drunk-ass friends. Cyndi had no interest in dancing on the stage but found that she could make a decent dollar carrying trays of watered-down drinks to the customers. While she did not wear a stripper costume, Cyndi did change into something sexy to keep her tips worthwhile. After she hit the clock, she went back to the lockers and changing area to get into character.
While the dancers got into their outfits, Cyndi peeled off her jeans and slid into a mini-skirt and crop top that would show the underside of her push-up bra if she reached above her head for anything. She was wearing a Day-Glo orange striped thong underneath her mini skirt and a lacy bra that really showed off her boobs. Not that she had to try. Her perky C cups on her slight 5' frame often made even the most dignified man freeze in his tracks to try and sneak a second glance. The panties glowed neon whenever the black lights in the club shown on the material. Sometimes the side strings peeked out over the top of her skirt, and if she bent forward in the slightest a customer might catch a glimpse of the thong from another angle. In this outfit, she was quite the cock-tease. Of course, the idea was to keep the customers teased and turned on, even though Cyndi would not be giving them anything but their drinks. The more they liked her, the more they tipped.
Cyndi had started working at the Shimmy Shack to help pay her tuition, and even without dancing, she brought in at least $250 a night in tips. It wasn't a bad way to make some money and she wasn't bothered by the scene there. Sure, if you paid too close attention to what was happening, it could get a little embarrassing sometimes. For example, you might feel chagrined if you noticed the exact moment when a customer got a little too excited during a lap dance, or if you watched just how lonely and desperate some guys were. Tonight was no different. Best not to pay too close attention to what happened in the shadows.
Up on the stage "Anastasia" was working to some Chris Brown song and just about to pop the snap open on the back of her brassiere when Cyndi noticed a commotion towards the back corner where Joe (the owner of the club) usually minded the store. Anastasia playfully caught her brassiere, clasping the fabric over her tits with both hands as she also glanced over towards Joe's corner.
Joe was a disgusting man. Let's just get that out of the way. He looked like a thug. He smelled like stale beer and old cigarette smoke and was always past-due for a good hot shower. Pushing 55 and old enough to be her father, he looked like he had been athletic, maybe a football player, when he was younger, though she doubted if he ever exercised anymore except to smack around his girlfriends. He was mean and cruel. When he wasn't bullying the girls who danced at the club he was bullying the other employees. When he wasn't bullying his employees, he was working other action on the side. Joe was the kind of cruel loser that Cyndi would want to mock, saying he was compensating for a tiny dick, but try as she might to pretend otherwise, she knew this not to be that case. Much as she was determined never to glance in that direction, it was difficult not notice his package. Plus, there were the knowing looks from his "girlfriends" that betrayed a hint of fear at his size. Or maybe he was just a sadist in the bedroom. Rumor was that he had a metal piercing in his dick, a little cross bar through the frenulum of his penis. Cyndi had also heard rumors that he was involved in some kind of minor organized crime, but she really did not care and did not want to know.
Cyndi finished delivering some Long Island Iced Teas to table 14 and glanced back towards Joe's corner and saw ... her younger brother Andrew rushing past with his hand held at an odd angle and tears in his eyes. Luckily Andrew did not notice Cyndi, as he had no idea she was working there. Her heart felt suddenly heavy and tight. Andrew was her only sibling. What the hell had happened to him and what did it have to do with Joe? She loved Andrew and would do anything to protect him, though he often made that quite difficult as he was prone to really terrible decisions - even for a 18-year-old boy. She was frozen with fear and anxiety.
Slowly she turned. Not knowing what else to do, she shuffled heavily towards Joe's corner. As she approached, she heard his chuckling. "What the fuck do you need from my life, little girl?" he grunted.
"uh ... uhh ... Uh, Joe ... Mr. Havelock ..." she stammered, her eyes starting to glisten with tears.
"Yeah, yeah, haven't got all night girly. What is it?"
Cyndi took a deep breath. "Uhm, that young man ... Andrew ... that was my baby brother."
Laughter. Why were they laughing? It felt like being kicked in the belly.
"That young man doesn't know shit about betting on football." More laughter.
"Andy owes you money?" she implored.
