Posted by Barbanne on September 25, 2001 at 16:02:00:


I sat waiting.
I pinched out the cigarette and chucked the butt. I hated the damn things, hated the taste and hated what they did to you. I had hoped the other girls would think my puffing a cig would make me look cool but it didn't.
I looked down.staring at my toenails in my little golden sandals. The colour was called "Passion Juices" and it was bright red. It was still tacky and caught the lights from the stage. I had a thin gold chain around one ankle.
Waitresses in skimpy dresses that left their breasts bare wandered around the smoky dive serving exorbitantly priced drinks.
Misty was finished and a few of the customers clapped as she strode off the stage clutching her blue dress and her high heels.
"They're all yours Barb," she said out of the corner of her mouth.
"Thanks," I said.
Back to doing this.
I suppose I was lucky I wasn't in gaol after I got caught pinching money from the petty cash tin but all that had happened was they kicked me out then and there. If they'd called the cops I was dead. With my record I would have gone straight into the pen.
But they didn't and here I was back at the flesh farm.
My body was visible beneath the gauziness of my baby doll top.
Bare breasted, pussy hidden by a tiny thong.
My music blared out of the tinny speakers.
Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones. Music from the ark but good for my routine.
By the time I was on my feet I was already into my act, sashaying up the stairs and onto the stage. I kept my eyes fixed on the spot lights knowing that that would blur my vision so that I wouldn't see them, not at first anyway.
I kept my eyes up as I moved across the stage to the stainless steel pole in the centre. Looking up I knew they were there but didn't see them. I felt them though, the hungry, demanding stares coming at me like a gust of hot air from the blackness outside my vision.
I gripped the pole in two hands and spun around, my legs raised, my hair streaming like a carousel horse. I felt the eyes consuming me. I looked up at the ceiling mirrors and saw a tired but pretty girl swinging on a pole and then, as I looked, I saw the ugliness that was my pathetic life.
My baby doll top fluttered in the breeze of my own making and I watched it thinking of another time, another place.
I slowed my rotation and slid down the pole.
Down and down until I was almost lying on the tiny stage, the meat rack the girls called it.
I dropped my hands and curled backwards and shimmied my way out of the top, sliding it down past my shoulders, baring my torso, over my hips and onto my thighs. I came up smartly as the music jagged out and stepped out of the top and kicked it away. I gripped the pole again and wrapped one leg around it and leant back. In the mirrored ceiling I could see my tiny, almost boyish breasts and I hated myself anew. I let go of the pole and leaned right back, almost doubled over, my hair hanging on the floor and my face toward the upside down audience. I twirled my arms around and started running my hands up and down my pale, white, freckled body, stroking, stroking, thumbing my nipples and carressing my crotch. I used one sweaty hand to grasp the pole again and pull myself upward. I could feel the dampness from the other girls, could smell their sweat and their boredom. I unwrapped my leg from the pole and as the tinny music pumped out Satisfaction, I rocked to and fro on my feet using my hands to grip and hold the pole and bending at the waist as my body swayed side to side in rhythm with the song.
I spun away from the pole and strutted around the stage stepping high and whacking my bare buttocks with my wet hands. I came forward looking into the darkness and feeling the lust and hooked my thumbs in the top of my thong and pulled it away from my body. I heard the crash as a glass fell from a table dislodged by the thumping of some bloke's fist. I bumped and ground my hips and slid the thong down and down, my pubic hair emerging little by little and then my pussy showing itself.
They were stamping and banging and a few lewd comments came at me and then I wriggled the thong down and off.
That provoked whistles and catcalls.
Nude except for my high heeled sandals I danced in time with the music to the far side of the stage and then cart wheeled back to the pole. Without breaking motion I went into a hand stand and hooked my heels around the pole. Upside down I gazed out into the pit and saw him!
Balanced on my hands and restrained by having my heels around the pole I went into an ass grind that flashed my cunt right in their faces. Slowly, ever so slowly I slid down the pole and shoulder rolled back onto my feet. Half tapping, half dancing I twirled around the perimeter of the stage swinging my head side to side and throwing my hair out and around. I stopped in each corner to pump my hips at them, sliding my hands across my hips and tummy.
I danced back to centre stage and fell onto my tummy and wriggled snake like back and forth, flickering my tongue over my lips at the men's faces which were now coming into focus.
His face, watching and then turning to say something to the woman next to him.
Fluttering my fingertips on the cheeks of my ass I wriggled and tongued and wriggled some more.
Coming right to the front of the stage I stood and went into a backward hand stand so that I was bent over backward, my cunt right in their faces.
His face!
Knowing he was watching I came upright, my bright red nails scraping the backs of my legs, the backs of my thighs. Standing, facing him, I used my hands, slut's hands, to frame the dark vee of my pubic hair and then dug my fingertips into the bristly pubics and drew the lips of my vagina apart and slid my right index finger inside and rammed it in and out.
I heard a shout from side stage and my music died stone dead, killed by one of the other girls.
Still finger fucking I stared at him and he rose and taking his woman with him started to leave.
"What's the matter daddy," I screamed.
He walked away.
"You've seen it enough times before surely, you..............."
Bob, the manager and Misty and Candy all tackled me together and dragged me off of the stage.
I shouted filth at him and the tears ran down my face.
In the crummy little dressing room Bob jammed his face in mine and I could see it was blood red and he was furious.
"You dirty little bitch, what was that about? You want to get us closed down? What was it about you fucking slut? Tell me?"
"Fuck off," I shouted and the tears coursed down my face.
"Bitch!" he screamed and then he hit me.
Backhanded me and I tasted blood.
I was screaming at him and lashing out with my fists, hysterical, crying, completely off my head.
"Bruno," he shouted and big bald Bruno entered my line of sight.
"Quieten her," said Bob.
I saw Misty and Candy standing off to one side looking frightened.
Bruno started in on me.
He's very good at what he does and he leaves almost no marks.
Bob had given me a blood nose and that was drooling into my mouth.
Bruno worked me over slapping my breasts, working on my kidneys, hitting me everywhere.
I heard Misty throwing up and then it was only pain.
After maybe less than two minutes I faded to black, losing consciousness but knowing my punishment would go on.
When I woke up I was lying naked on a bed in the other dressing room and Candy was dabbing a damp cloth on my face and Misty was sobbing.
I hurt.
Not anywhere particularly just everywhere.
One giant ache.
The bruises were there but they were faint.
The damage was inside.
There was blood on the pillow where my nose had leaked and the pain was awful.
"Why Barb?" said Candy.
I couldn't even shake my head and just looked at her out of eyes filled with hurting.