Cursed: Chapter 7 -- In the Clutches of the Curse
Author's Note:
It has been well over a year since I posted the last chapter to 'Cursed.' I had a problem finding an ending and abandoned it after rejecting several ideas. I wanted a conclusion that showed Tiffany's strength. My heroine may be too stubborn to seek help, but she isn't weak. The story will need a couple more chapters to finish.
We resume the story with Tiffany still working her first night at The Dollhouse. If you know my stories, things will get much worse for the heroine before the end.
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Tiffany
In junior high school, a bully named Mary Beth cursed my best friend, Ashley, and me. She said girls named Ashley and Tiffany were destined to be strippers and prostitutes. I was thrilled when her family moved away before I started high school. I thought we had escaped her curse.
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It was a little after eleven by the time I finished entertaining the Japanese party. I groaned when Carmen summoned me to his office. He told me to finish out the night working the floor and dancing a couple more sets. I wasn't happy and let him know it.
"Please, I'm too tired, and I'm fucked up from all the damn drugs you gave me and too much sake. Haven't I done enough for one night?"
Carmen pounded on the table and cursed me. "La mia bellissima prostituta, you are done when I say you're done."
I knew it was dangerous to protest, but I wanted my new boss to show me a little respect.
"My outfit has a broken waistband, and it got soaked in sake. Please, I need another uniform."
Carmen laughed, "I'm sure I was clear that you get only one set a week unless you want to fork over a Benjamin."
"You've got to be kidding. I'm not paying a hundred dollars for a cheap outfit I could buy online for ten dollars for both pieces."
"Well, then dance in the one you are wearing or dance naked. I don't care, but I'm sure your fans would prefer that you dance naked."
I protested again, but I sounded more like an exhausted child whining about being told to go to bed.
Carmen stared at me and said, "Tiffany, you sound tired, and you look like shit. That's not good for business."
"I doubt you care, but I was up all night with a sick kid. Don't worry about me. I'll make it to closing."
Carmen shook his head and said, "It's barely eleven, and you look dead on your feet. I think you need a little help."
"I'll be fine without your damn help. I don't have any choice. I need the money to buy medicine for my daughter."
"Tiffany, did you ever pull an all-nighter at school with a little chemical help?"
"A couple of times, but I don't like doing drugs."
Carmen opened a drawer and rooted around for a moment. He dropped a couple of orange oval pills on a napkin.
He said, "Here you go. These are prescription amphetamines. I keep them around for situations like this when someone is having a rough night. I can't have my workers falling asleep on the job. Now take the damn pills, or I'll call Alberto to administer a fitting punishment before he shoves them up your ass. I'm not paying you to sleepwalk."
I recoiled at the thought of having Alberto's vile hands on me again and gave in to his demands.
"I can't swallow them without something to wash them down."
The fat toad turned to the refrigerator and pulled out an unopened bottle of spring water. I was nervous about drinking anything the asshole gave me and scrutinized the bottle. It looked ok, so I twisted the top open. I heard the plastic snap and relaxed.
He pushed the pills toward me before sinking back into his executive chair. He pressed his fingertips together in a steeple and glared at me. Maybe, he was hoping I would refuse. My body was shaking from the stress of confronting the fat bastard. The cold air from the overhead vent blowing on my wet outfit contributed to my misery.
Carmen said, "Stop wasting my time and take the damn pills."
I knew he was right. I would never make it until closing. Hopefully, he wasn't lying about what the pills were. In the end, it didn't matter. He had all the power, and I had no desire to discover what Carmen considered to be a fitting punishment. I remembered how the bastard had ordered Alberto to rape me with the big, cold, glass dildo sitting on the desk in front of me and beat my bare ass until it was red hot.
I reached for the pills with shaking hands and choked them down. I drained the bottle as Carmen watched with his habitual frog-like smirk.
Alberto came into the office and said he needed to talk to his boss in private.
Carmen dismissed me with a smile on his fat face. "Just to show my appreciation for doing a great job entertaining the Japanese, I'm going to let you take a break until your performance on stage. You have twenty minutes to fix your makeup and brush your hair. I suggest you make the most of your break. You look like you were ridden hard and put away wet."
Carmen laughed and said, "Alberto, do you get it? Haha, put away wet. Her clothes are soaked. Ok, now get out. Tiffany, I'll see you on stage later. Remember, we are going to auction off your outfit. Maybe when you're nudo, you'll stop bitching that your clothes are wet and ruined."
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Fifteen minutes later, when I was fixing my makeup in the dressing room, I realized Carmen had lied. Of course, the bastard lied. Oh, the pills were speed, but somehow he had spiked the water with ecstasy. You might ask what difference it made since I didn't have a choice. Well, it made all the difference in the world.
The drugs' effects from Carmen's bottle of 'pure' water were getting intense by the time I strode out on the stage for my pole dance routine. I felt strangely energized and confident. There was one advantage to having a wet outfit. I didn't have to worry about my bottoms falling off. Still, when I glanced at the large TV monitor, I could see my nipples through the translucent top. The bottoms were hanging off of one hip, and the thin cotton was molded to my swollen pussy lips. The Dollhouse crowd loved the look.
At the end of my routine, I took a bow. I strolled along the edge of the stage and let men shove money into my waistband.
When I turned toward the door, Carmen put his arm around my waist and announced to the crowd, "I'm sure a lot of you were across the street last Saturday night watching our sweet Ice Princess perform. I have to give credit to that asshole Tony for coming up with the idea of auctioning off her clothes. So I'm going to steal his idea. Right now, we are going to auction off Tiffany's top. Her last set will be around 1:00 when we auction off her bottom. We'll let the winner of each auction remove the item themselves. They can help themselves to a good feel of whatever part of Tiffany's body was covered by the item. So let's start the bidding at one hundred dollars for her top."
My top went for a hundred and forty dollars. A big guy with a large gut and suntanned arms won the bid. He was hammered and had trouble climbing the stairs to the stage. He wrapped his muscular arms around me from behind and ground his crotch against my ass. I squealed when he shoved his hands under my top and mauled my tits. His sour breath smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap beer.
I squealed when he pinched my sore nipples. The audience cheered and urged him to stop wasting time removing my top. When he ripped the wet garment over my head, one of the flimsy shoulder straps snapped. The brute quickly returned to abusing my breasts. My tits filled the big-screen TVs in the room. Carmen let him continue molesting me until the drunken fool forced his hand down the front of my PJ bottoms. Alberto tossed him off the stage like a sack of potatoes. I pulled up my bottoms and fled to the dressing room in tears.