Educating a Defiant Stripper

Stripper tries to avoid paying a cut to the house

Author's note:

All characters in this story are 18 or older, and the author does not in any way condone non-consensual sex. This one is a bit darker and non-con than my typical work, less coercion and more forcible rape/sodomy. If such content is not your kink or offends you, please do not read this story. This is an erotic fiction story not meant as a sort of political or societal protest. I write entertainment in a specific kink, and never meant to happen in reality and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Many thanks to Psylent for providing feedback and editing this story, as well as writing encouragement.

The door lock clicked open a moment after I knocked and I stepped into the dimly lit office. The large room was pretty quiet considering its proximity to the main stage, only the reverberating bassline discernible. Slade, the owner of the club and my friend, had made sure it was soundproofed, for a multitude of reasons, one being not wanting a splitting headache while he worked above the strip club.

Slade motioned me in with a smile and a wave, seated behind a huge mahogany desk facing the main stage. Large windows granted a view of the main stage and adjacent VIP area from above, tinted from the inside so you could only see outward. Club Ivy was one of a few strip clubs he owned in the metropolitan area, and he took an active role in their management and upkeep. I can't imagine what those windows cost to provide the level of soundproofing they did from the club's music, but I knew he had a similar setup in each of his offices.

He'd gained a little more weight since I'd last seen him, his beer belly a few sizes larger, and his neck thicker and droopier as he went into his late 40's. His greasy looking hair didn't help his looks, but he carried himself with the air of someone who was hot shit. Managing a few successful strip joints around town might do that to you.

Slade and I were old friends, roommates in college that had parted ways, him as an entrepreneur in the city, and myself to toil on oil rigs. We'd reconnected purely by chance at a sex club, and since then had revived our friendship. It didn't hurt that I had a thing for strippers, and as it turns out, he'd become a very successful club owner who took 'special' liberties with his employees. Strippers scorned the trade that Slade operated behind closed doors, up until they realized how high the pay could be.

"Kayden!" he grinned widely as I stepped up to the desk and sat down in one of the plush armchairs.

"I'd stand, but... you know?" he shrugged, motioning towards his lap with his visible hand, "Collecting tonight's stage fee."

Sure enough, I spotted some bright blue stilettos poking out from the gap in the large desk.

"I get how it is," I said, smiling back broadly, "Always working!"

He cackled as he shifted back and forth behind his desk, his chair creaking slightly. But he was back to business just as quickly; he didn't get to where he was by beating around the bush.

"So, I need your help; new employee who is struggling with the rules," he spat nonchalantly, his arm beginning to pick up speed, I presume pushing the girl beneath his desk towards his release.

I cocked my head to the side, only slightly uncomfortable watching my friend close to cumming. I say slightly because we'd definitely spit-roasted a stripper between ourselves once or twice.

He raised a finger to indicate a pause, before both hands disappeared under the table, accompanied by him grunting and panting. Scraping heels and knees from under the desk matched his own grunting and twitching, even after he bellowed into the air, his hips locked in a forward thrust as he dumped his load.

After a few moments, his body slumped back into the spacious chair as he let out a sigh of satisfaction, hands releasing the girl kneeling at his feet. He waited patiently as a brunette head of hair cleaned off his cock, before staggering to her feet. This one must be headed on stage soon, because she was already in uniform. True to the blue stilettos, a metallic dark blue g-string split her tanned asscheeks as she rose into view, a coordinated micro bikini top struggling to contain her fake double D's. She delicately wiped the saliva and cum dripping from her nose and chin, taking care not to mess up any of her makeup.

"Thanks Crystal," Slade grunted, zipping himself up and motioning her off, "You're good for this week; need to talk business now."

"You got it, Slade," she said sweetly before sauntering past me, one long manicured finger dragging along my trousers up my thigh, "Hey Kayden."

"Crystal," I replied, turning to watch her tanned ass as it bounced out the door. A brief tryst with her had confirmed she had just enough crazy to match her hotness.

"So," Slade said, straight to our business now that prior business and orgasm were concluded. Two large stacks of cash appeared on the desk in between us.

"Got a new employee that doesn't think the club rules apply to her; she's clever enough to at least wait for me to leave the building, but I'm not make a cut off her clientele. I guess she was pretty hot shit where she was from and thinks she can run her own enterprise in my house. I'm wondering if you'd be interested in showing her how dangerous the big city can be, and how important the services we provide are..."

*************************************************

Sure enough, Lexus was a spinner as Slade described, the tightest little body filling a neon orange microscopic G-string and bra. Her natural-looking breasts were large for her slender frame, her C-cup breasts looking massive on her ribcage, the nipples barely concealed by neon triangles. Just over five feet, I imagined she must be a dancer or something considering how tight her tummy and ass was. On a larger girl her tits would probably look natural, on her small frame you couldn't help but wonder if they were augmented. And cute, too; beautiful natural blonde hair to her shoulders, an even tan with occasional freckles and a face that finely rode the line of take-home-to-parents material and dirty fuck-me hot. I think it was her dark eyes, covered in bright teal eyeshadow that contrasted the neon orange dancewear and fishnets.

After her song on the main stage, she'd descended into the lounge, toying with the craving men as she winded her way towards my seat. She was subtle, discernible only to someone who knew what to look for; a stripper eyeing her mark based on the cash she'd seen on him earlier.

"Hey there, darling," she purred into my ear as she settled into my lap. She smelt of mint and strawberries, the teal eyeshadow and lipstick contrasting her neon orange ensemble.

One calloused hand lifted the petite succubus off my cock, her petite ass threatening to compress it into my thigh.

"Easy on the goods there, honey," I smiled warmly as I readjusted her to my other thigh, my hand conveniently encasing her firm ass. Even sitting down, I dwarfed Lexus, coming in at just over 6 ft with a large build from years of hard labor to match. I had a stubbly five-o-clock shadow, a consequence of my thick dark hair.

"Oh?" she pursed her lips and ran her small hand up my leg, finding the size of my flaccid cock as it stuck to my thigh beneath my pants. I was larger than most and had something of a sadistic streak, probably why Slade had offered me the job tonight. Well, that might be a lie; I was

significantly

larger than most, my cock being a centerpiece for "size queen" fetishists that attended the BDSM club I frequented. Her eyes lit up a little and desire sparked her cheeks, a subtle tell that I'd grown to know over the years.

She'd been watching me from the wings as I'd shedded the borrowed money from Slade on his dancers, tipping generously. While the next stripper was getting ready to start her dance number and waitresses were taking drink orders, she'd leapt into my chair.

Small chitchat occurred, blatantly dancing around as her leg rubbed against my cock, forcing it to swell even greater in size. As she became brazen in her caresses, I too got more handsy. The hand not clutching her tight ass went up her thigh to her ribcage and then back again to her hip, picking and prodding at her neon orange g string. My thick fingers slipped down the crease in her groin as I kissed her shoulder gently, quickly finding her clit and gently dancing around it.

"Ohhh," she moaned and arched her back slightly before her hand grabbed mine. I thought that was it for me, but instead her hand clasped mine, grinding my hand into her mound vigorously. I could feel her wetness, her burning heat and desire in my gruff hands as I pressured her clit. And just as sudden, she pulled my hand away while looking fearfully around.

"We can't get caught, babe. But I really want more of you," she purred, one hand still casually stroking my uncircumcised 11" cock through my Carhartt pants, eyes pointing out bouncers littered throughout the area, including the VIP entrance.

"If you want some more of that we have to go somewhere more private," she explained, drawing me deeper into her web with a breathy nibble at my neck. I only grunted in response, the trap slowly unravelling.

"You want the VIP treatment, hun?" she stuck out her chest, pressing her breasts into my chest as she whispered in my ear, "And not one of those stuffy booths."

Jackpot.

"Yu-yeah!" I stammered out, my excitement barely contained as I reached into my pocket, "How much?"

"$500 for 4 songs," she whispered into my ear, and I frantically counted out 10 bills. My excitement wasn't feigned, just probably not for the reason Lexus thought.

Glancing around, Lexus scanned the room for the bouncers and other girls. Determining it was clear, she hurriedly pulled me out of the chair towards the rest rooms. Right before them, she detoured and took me up the stairs towards Slade's office. Slipping a key into the lock, she pulled me inside, the sounds of the club immediately falling away. Locking it behind us, she pushed me down into the loveseat facing the glass.

The bright lights from the stage below and the DJ booth glanced off of her shiny physique and fishnets, two tiny strips of neon fabric concealing her pussy and nipples from me. Putting her hands on the glass, she gyrated her ass at me while tugging at her remaining clothes, the thin orange fabric barely visible between her tanned ass.

"You can finger me and I'll jerk you off," she stated firmly, back to business now that it was time to deliver. Walking seductively over to me, she gyrated her ass within inches of my face, her perfume filling the air alongside our sexual tension.

Feigning disappointment, I reached out and clutched her mound, my calloused fingers rubbing her through the sheer material. She moaned and ground her hips into my hand, sinking her ass into my lap as she balanced on her tall stilettos. My other hand roamed over her thighs and stomach as I easily slid aside the fabric and sank my middle finger into her warm, wet snatch.

"Oooooh," she crooned, pushing herself deeper onto my digit and falling back into my waiting embrace. My other hand began to explore her chest, the micro bikini top falling away effortlessly as I mauled her chest. Working my hand towards her nipple, squeezing and pinching, I confirmed that indeed, her tits werenatural.

Her heavy breathing also confirmed what I'd discovered from her pussy, she was quite bothered by all the heavy petting, her grinding and gyrating hips coating my finger and palm with juices. I added another finger to her tight slit, the lubrication guiding it in easily, but under pressure from her fit muscles.

My fingers pistoned in and out of her slick gash, gradually picking up speed to match her breathing. Continuing for a few minutes, I sensed she was beginning to lose herself in my embrace, her breathing morphing into a high-pitched moaning. Her body gave way as her orgasm struck, her pussy clamping down on my fingers like a vice as her core shuddered. I withdrew my fingers from her pussy, eliciting a few more twitches, before clutching her mound from the other side, holding her tightly to my lap as she recovered.

"Wooooo!" she hooted once she had her bearings, sliding from my lap and onto the floor between my knees. Her cheeks were flushed as she focused again on the business at hand: making money. She deftly unbelted my pants and slipped my cock out, eyes immediately widening as my hard equipment sprang out.

"Wow," she gasped in awe, "You really are hung, baby!"

Fuck, this bitch was good at her craft,

I thought,

though this time she might have actually meant it

. Her delicate hands worked my shaft, squeezing the precum out of my tip and using it as makeshift lube. Her small hands were dwarfed by my cock in its full state, her ministrations draining the blood from my other head.

"Can you blow me?" I requested, trying to sound pathetic.

She paused, her hand barely able to encompass my girth, and looked at me, debating the physics required to get my cock into her mouth. I think she was horny as well, so she bit.

"$200," she said, meeting my eyes before spitting a thick wad of saliva on the head of my cock. Reaching up with a hand and massaging the top third of its length, she kept her seductive gaze locked to mine as my cock trembled between us.

Lot cheaper than Crystal or Milena

, I mused. Easy to undercut the other talent when you're not losing a cut to Slade or the bouncers. What she didn't realize was the bouncers weren't just there to take money; they provided a service. A service she had unknowingly forfeited in Slade's secluded office.

"Sure," I said, pushing off my pants and settling into the chair.

She only sat there at my feet, palm outstretched and waiting.

"What, you don't think I'm good for it?" I asked in mock offense, my gleaming cockhead separating the small space between my crotch and her face.

"It's just," she purred, her fingernails continuing to dance around my ballsack and shaft, her teal-colored lips mere inches from my glistening helmet, "Having the cash in my thong makes me wetter."

A long stream of saliva dribbled down from her mouth onto my cock head, and her hands began to jerk me off quickly, her eyes burned into my own longingly.

Fuck, was she good

. She might be dumb enough to forgo a bouncer's safety, but she wasn't an idiot. Four crisp $50 bills appeared in my hand, which she quickly stuffed into her thong before her lips attacked my cockhead with vigor.

"Fuuuck..." I murmured in satisfaction as she slobbered her way down my shaft, making loud and sensuous noises as she worked my cock like a pro, "You are goooood."

Her eyes lit with pleasure and stared me down as her lips travelled up and down my shaft, taking as much as she could in her mouth before returning to suckle my balls while stroking me off. Her mouth could only contain my head plus an inch or two, my spongy crown bouncing off her tonsils. Her tongue worked feverishly alongside her lips, trying to travel down my shaft with each bob of her head, attacking me with every weapon in her arsenal in the hopes of liberating my cum.

"Can you... can you deepthroat," I gasped after a few minutes, feigning an impending orgasm, "I usually get off that way."

She withdrew my cock and paused to look at it, occasionally slurping at the massive purple head that alone dwarfed most of her features.

"That's another $200," she said flatly, but my hands were already pulling out a wad of Slade's hard-earned money and tucking them into her g-string.

She must have seen the wads of cash that Slade had given me, and wanted to milk me for everything she could tonight, consequences (and physics) be damned.

Greed could be a tempting master, and it appears Lexus was far from immune to it.

She kissed my cockhead before rising to her heels in front of me, her virtually naked body on full display to the busy room below. Standing on her narrow silver stilettos, she bent over and again enveloped me in her mouth, trying to deepthroat me from a higher angle.

It was a pathetic attempt, though. Eleven inches of cock doesn't just slide down your throat, not without a little bit of elbow grease and tears. But, she must have calculated that out already, knowing it was impossible for her tiny mouth and throat, and hoping a few valiant attempts might push me over the edge. Anything to milk a few more $20's from my pocket.

One of my hands came up to wipe the hair from her face, preventing it from getting in her mouth as she bobbed up and down in front of me. Her tanned ass shone in the harsh but sparse lighting of Slade's office as she tried to work her head deeper into my lap. She began to push herself harder, slobbering and gagging on my head in a courageous attempt to go past her warm, wet mouth. But it was in vain, the head of my cock simply bouncing off the back of her mouth over and over. A few tears appeared, teal streamers running down her flushed cheeks as evidence of her effort, but I knew there was no way she would be able to deepthroat me.

Not without some help.

My grip shifted subtly, using her hair as a handle to push her down further on each downstroke, but not too hard as to warn her of her plight. As any man does during a blowjob, whether a veteran John or a nervous highschooler, the pressure to go deeper always existed. And wanting my money, she let it happen; more saliva and tears running down my hard shaft as she fought for each millimeter, wiggling her head from side to side. But it was useless, my head and shaft were just too big for her mouth and esophagus.

"I paid for deepthroat," I rasped once she sank back onto my cock from her last break for air, my tone subtly changing to match my unyielding grip on her skull, "I expect deepthroat."

"I'm trying!" she wailed when she finally was able to come up for air, spitting and coughing as I smeared my cock over her lipstick, "It's too big!"

"Try harder," I ordered, holding my cock at the base like a virulent weapon, pulsing veins illuminating the painful girth and length like a road map.

To her credit, she renewed her efforts even as I roughly assisted her.

Crazy what a few hundred dollars can pay for.

My head finally entered her throat, courtesy of copious saliva and a bit of my elbow grease. She immediately gagged, but pushed harder, her tongue snaking out towards my balls. She could barely reach halfway down my shaft as I rammed her down harder and harder, trying to coach her throat from a single lane into an expressway.

"I can help more," I finally grunted, rising from the couch and nearly knocking her over. She winced in pain as I caught her by her ponytail, teetering in stilettos.

Before she could protest, I walked her over to the sofa, tossing her on her back with her head hanging over the arm. Her hands rose in protest, but she was no match for me, particularly in the compromising position. One hand still on her ponytail, the other on my cock, I guided the two together until I was again in her warm mouth. In this position though, there was a chance at getting into her throat, and I intended to find out how far it would go.

The first thrust got me past her tonsils thanks to the amount of saliva she'd provided, but her chest and legs rose off the couch instinctively to get away from her gag. It didn't matter though, her skull was pinned to the couch by my cock, my hands, and my large frame as I sank deeper into her warm, gagging embrace.

As her hands frantically began to slap at my thighs, I backed out, giving her just a second to catch her breath. Slapping away her hands and pinning them to the couch, I lowered my cock into view again.