The Naed Lawyer

If you'd told me a year ago that this is where my life would be, I'd have told you that you were crazy. Me, the 30 year old former wife of a wealthy small town mayor, the up and coming defense attorney is now a stripper, and for the right price, I'll do a lot more than dance for you. Who am I and how did I get here you may ask, well get comfortable and I'll tell you the whole story. To protect the privacy of my friends and family, I'll call myself Susan. I'm 5'5, 120 lbs. 34DD breasts (yes, they're implants, a gift from my now former husband when I passed the Bar Exam.), long legs, every inch of my body very toned and not a speck of cellulite. I met my former husband when I was 18 and a junior in college. (I home schooled and graduated high school at 15.) He was 32 year old attorney who I worked as a receptionist for to pay for college. We began dating and married when I was 20. By that time, he had expanded his law firm to include three other attorneys and, with our marriage, was able to access his trust fund that his grandfather left him, making him a multimillionaire.

I finished school with his blessing, and joined his firm after I passed the Bar. By that time, he was beginning to show an interest in politics and I supported him all the way. He decided to run for mayor of our town, and won by a landslide. I continued with my law practice and played the role of the perfect mayor's wife. That lasted until last year. I had a case, my client was married to a woman on the city council and he was charged with DUI and vehicular homicide. He was guilty, he admitted that from the beginning and asked me to cut a deal with the prosecutor to save his family the humiliation of a trial. I did, and he got five years in prison, ten on probation, a cake walk for the charges he was facing. I thought his wife would be happy, but I couldn't have been more wrong. You see, unbeknownst to me, she was sleeping with my husband and they both were hoping I'd screw up the case and he would get the max and I would be disgraced as an attorney. When their plan failed, they went to plan B and started rumors that I was sleeping with the DA and the judge on the case! It was quickly proven to be untrue, but the damage was done to my reputation and I couldn't get a client if I paid them to let me represent them. I was brought up on ethics charges and my law license suspended for a year. My husband filed for divorce and using his influence as mayor and I'm sure some of his money as well, he was able to get the judge to rule that I got nothing other than my personal belongings and $5000 cash in the divorce. I couldn't even take my car since it was in his name.

I left town, moving to the nearest city and got a job in a fast food restaurant. I got a small apartment in a bad part of town and an used car that's seen better days. Unfortunately, I didn't make near enough at the restaurant to pay my rent and bills, so I had to get a second job. I ended up getting one as a cocktail waitress in a Gentlemen's Club. Now, this isn't some back alley strip club. It's upscale, catering to wealthy clientele, including the occasional professional athlete and celebrity. I had been there a couple of weeks when I realized I was going to easily make ends meet working there and quit my fast food job. After a couple of months, I had grown comfortable with the tiny outfit and stiletto shoes, and was actually enjoying my job. One night as I was leaving, the owner of the club asked me to come to his office for a minute. I did and was surprised when he asked me if I would be interested in becoming a dancer. I was going to refuse, but he told me he wanted to sign me to an exclusive contract with his club, with a guaranteed salary in addition to whatever I made on tips. He gave me the night to think about it and I went back the next day and agreed to become a dancer. I read over the contract, and after getting him to agree to change the wording in a couple of places, signed it.

I started dancing the next night, and to my surprise, found out I'm really good at it. I am making more money dancing four days a week than I made working 80 hours a week as a lawyer. In addition to my guaranteed salary and the tips I make on stage, I make $500 for half an hour in the Champagne Room with a client for a private dance.

Anyway, I had been dancing for a few months when I got called to the boss's office again. Now, up until then I had suspected that the club was "connected", but had no proof, not that I really cared. Well, when I got to the boss's office, I was surprised to see that he wasn't alone. There, in his office, were half a dozen men, including a high-ranking member of a known "Family". I was told to sit down in the only available chair and my boss explained to me that the club was going to be closed for the next couple of nights. As far as everyone was concerned, it was for some minor renovations, but it was actually for a private party and a meeting. I politely asked how it concerned me and he told me that he wanted me to work the next two nights, at three times my normal salary. I was suspicious of what they actually wanted me to do, so I asked. I was told that I would be expected to dance and serve drinks. When I was serving drinks, I would be completely nude except for my shoes and the outfits I danced in would be chosen by those attending the meeting and party. I thought about it for a few minutes and agreed to work the next two nights. They were all pleased and I was given the rest of the night off to get a good night's rest and give me plenty of time for my personal grooming before I went to work the next night.

The next night was their meeting, so the atmosphere was somewhat subdued, the songs I danced to slower and more sensual than usual, just a calmer, more relaxed night. As I was serving drinks towards the end of the night, I overheard the men at the table discussing a legal matter and my inner lawyer was begging to get out and give them advice. However, I knew better than to offer my advice and pretended not to be listening to their conversation. Just as I was setting the last drink down, my boss, who was at the table, asked my opinion, telling everyone there that I used to be a defense attorney before my ex-husband got my license suspended. The men at the table started asking questions about me and my law practice and I answered them honestly. When they were satisfied that I wasn't a cop or Fed, they asked my legal opinion. I thought for a few moments and told them what I thought. They were impressed and made note of my suggestions to take back to their normal attorney. The night wound down shortly after that and one of the bodyguards in attendance walked me to my car when I was ready to go.

The next night was more like a normal night at work, just with a much smaller, less rowdy crowd. I spent most of the night dancing, and even did some private dances in the Champagne room for some of the more high ranking men there. It was during one of those dances that things changed for me, forever. The man I was dancing for commented that he thought I had a mouth made for fellatio and asked how much it would cost him to find out if he was right. I told him that the rules of the club required me to refuse his request, no matter what amount of money he offered. He commended me for sticking to the rules and didn't say anything else about it. I finished the dance and he requested another, so I continued to dance.

During the second dance, my boss came in and they had a hushed conversation that I couldn't hear. After a couple of moments, my boss turned to leave, but not before he told me that normal club rules didn't apply that night and I could fulfill any requests I felt comfortable fulfilling and keep any money for myself. After he was gone, the man I was dancing for pulled out a money clip and peeled off several large bills and asked if that was enough for me to perform fellatio on him, assuring me that it was completely safe for me to do so. I hesitated for a minute, knowing that if I said yes, I was crossing a line that there was no turning back from. After a moment, I said yes and slid the money in the garter on my leg before getting on my knees in front of him. Now, before that night, I had seen two cocks up close and personal, the guy I lost my virginity to at the age of 16 and my ex husband and let me tell you, neither one of them could compare to this guy. It was perfect, long, thick, perfectly shaped, circumcised, just flat out beautiful. Looking back, I'm not sure which one of us got more pleasure out of the next thirty minutes, him or me! When it was over and he had fixed himself up, he gave me a few more bills and said he always likes when people prove him right. He went back out to the main room while I slipped into the dressing room to fix myself up.

The night wound down a couple of hours later and like the night before, a bodyguard escorted me to my car. I had the next night off and when I went into work the following night, I was immediately called into the boss's office. He commended me for a job well done during the private parties and told me he had been asked by his boss to offer me a job at one of his clubs in another city, with a guaranteed contract like I currently had, but at a higher salary. I thought it over and accepted the job.

The new club is a lot like my former club, but very different in some ways as well. It was owned directly by the man I entertained in the Champagne room and he allows a very select group of clientele to arrange private out-calls with the dancers for a large fee. The dancers are never under any obligation to agree to an out-call, and we're always accompanied by a bodyguard with strict instructions to get us out of there if we use a predetermined safe word. I'm very selective about the out-calls I agree to and I know that none of the men will ever reveal my identity publicly. In the six months I've been at the new club, I've only accepted eight out-calls, and two of them were for the same man. I never thought that I would go from being a successful attorney to a stripper and a high-class call girl in a year's time, but I have. Some reading this may ask if I'm ashamed of what I do, and honestly, I'm not. Believe it or not, I feel less like a whore doing what I do now than I did as an attorney and the wife of a politician!