I'm just a few days shy of my nineteenth birthday and I am already leading a double life. By day I'm Vicki Carter, home for the summer and preparing to start my sophomore year of college next month. My parents make sure I still attend church with them every Sunday. I'm polite to a fault, always respecting my elders, yes ma'am, or yes sir, depending on who I'm speaking to. But two nights a week I'm Vixen, the hot new stripper at a gentlemen's club. I've always enjoyed dancing but I was a bit chubby in high school and none of the guys ever asked me out.
When I started college last year my new roommate Lily suggested I take dance classes with her. Our instructor said I was a natural and asked if I would be interested in learning exotic dances. By the time I finished my freshman year I had lost 30 pounds and finally had the sexy, slim body I always wanted. Lily just started dancing at the Cowgirl Club a few months ago and told me they had an opening for another dancer if I was interested. I was nervous the first few times I stripped on stage, but now I'm not only comfortable with it, I actually enjoy showing off my new body. The club is close to campus and about a 45 minute drive from my parents' house. I told my folks that I've been working on a project all summer with my roommate and she was only available Friday and Saturday nights. So they never question my nights away from home.
It's Saturday night at the club and the place is packed as usual. I stand at the edge of the stage behind the curtain and adjust my mask, I'm up next. About half of the dancers wear masks to protect their identity. The anonymity it provides is the only reason I'm able to do this. Lily is nearly finished with her dance. She and I are not only the newest dancers, we are also the most in demand, and always the last two performances of the night. In a club full of southern belles and cowgirl dancers, Tiger Lily is a dominatrix and I'm a sly fox. We brought fresh ideas and total nudity in our performances and the men can't get enough. A lot of the girls are reluctant to remove their thong as they dance, or they only remove it at the end of their dance, but I love looking at the men's faces when they see my pussy. So my thong is on the floor within the first few minutes of my performance.
Lily winks at me as she exits the stage and John walks out to introduce me. The men's cheers drown out the sultry music for my dance. The long tail I'm wearing tickles the back of my legs as I walk. I'm wearing a butt plug with a faux fox tail attached to it. I lose myself in the dance, slowly peeling away the tiny scraps of my costume until I'm left with only my mask and the fox tail. I'm close enough to the edge of the stage to give the men a good view, but far enough back that they can't touch me. The men's whistles and cat calls spur me on and I'm getting wet. My only prop on the stage is a faux fur covered chaise lounge that I use throughout the dance. I lie back on the chaise and spread my legs wide, I can feel the lips of my pussy opening. I hear one of the men mention how wet I am, and that he would love to have a taste. That makes me smile.
I get up to find the man in question and nearly stumble when I see my dad standing just a few feet away from me, staring at me as if he wanted to devour me. I recognize a couple of the men with him from his work. Definitely not his church friends. My dad looks different though. At home he is always clean shaven and his hair is meticulous. Now his hair is tousled, like some of the guys at school wear theirs. And his five o'clock shadow? If he was anyone else I'd say he was hot. He told mom he would be away a couple of nights on business. He's had business trips before. Mom never questioned it, but maybe she should. Was he the one that wanted a taste of me, or was it one of his friends? When my dance ends I can't get off the stage fast enough.
Did my dad recognize me? The mask doesn't quite cover half of my face. I don't think he's ever seen me with contacts, I always wear my glasses at home. And I still wear my old clothes at home that are a couple of sizes too big now. I think he and mom both still see me as their chubby daughter. John stops me before I get to the dressing room. "Hey Vicki, you up for a VIP dance? You and Lily both have requests tonight."
"Yeah, sure. About 10 minutes?"
"You got it. You're in the gold room tonight."
"Thanks John."
I make really good tips with the VIP dances. The gold room costs one hundred dollars for a guy looking for some private time with a dancer. I don't get any of it, but I always get a ridiculous tip, depending on what I allow to happen. Technically the man is only paying for a half hour of my time and if I choose to only dance and talk to him that's my prerogative. I'm in the driver's seat. But if the guy is good looking and not too creepy we may end up fucking. I've had maybe a dozen private dances since I started working here. A couple of weeks ago I got a thousand dollar tip from a sweet older gentleman named Henry. He was probably old enough to be my grandfather, but fucking him wasn't a hardship. He was easy to look at, he knew his way around a woman's body and I didn't have to fake my orgasms - yes, I had more than one. And he had deep pockets. If Henry requested me again tonight I'm in for a treat.
I freshened up a little in the dressing room, donned a silk robe and I'm heading down to the gold room. My mask is still on and I kept the tail, men seem to get off on that. Seeing my dad earlier shook me up, but I'm trying to put it behind me. There was no recognition in his eyes when he looked at me. I just need to get over the fact that my clean-cut, religious dad came to a strip club. I open the door to the gold room and the gentleman I'm dancing for is sitting in the chair in the middle of the room facing the small stage in the back of the room. There is an oversized sofa to the right with a fitted slip cover. There's no bed because this isn't a brothel and management wouldn't want anyone to get the impression that sex is encouraged here. But we all know what the sofa is for, hence the slip cover that is changed daily.
The soft music is low and continuous. I open the silk robe and let it slip to the floor as I walk past the gentleman to the pole in the center of the stage. The VIP dance is always a lap dance, but I like to spend the first several minutes at the pole. That way we can talk for a few minutes and I can determine how far to let things go with the lap dance. I know just what to do to make a man come. Even if I choose not to fuck him, he will come in his pants before the hour is up. "My name is Vixen. What should I call you?" I intentionally deepen my voice as always. It's just another disguise for me.
"You can call me Danny."
My head jerks around and I look at the gentleman in question. I didn't even pay attention when I walked past him. I'm always caught up in my performance when I first walk into the room. This is a nightmare. Daniel Carter - husband, father, assistant football coach for my brother's football team, respected businessman and active member of New Hope church, just paid one hundred dollars for a lap dance at a strip club. By his daughter no less. I'm still dancing at the pole. I can't give him any reason to become suspicious. At least now I know the lap dance won't include fucking. Just keep dancing and keep him talking. "Have you ever had a private dance Danny?"
"A few times. But it's been a while. I thought I'd lost interest in this kind of thing. But seeing you out there earlier changed my mind." My dad chuckled. "I almost didn't get you. Some older guy had already paid for you, but after we talked for a few minutes he allowed me to buy you."