tagBDSMJulie Becomes John's Pet Ch. 11

Julie Becomes John's Pet Ch. 11

byJohns Pet Julie©

Here is Chapter Eleven of my story. It won't be as enjoyable of make a lot of sense if you haven't read the previous ten. If you haven't read them I wholeheartedly encourage you to do so! You can click my profile for the link to those chapters.

I love getting feedback from the readers, so please post a comment and let me know what you thought!

The drink arrived and I sucked it down as quickly as my stomach would allow. I sat back and took inventory of the situation- my family had spent the day having a fun outing in Boston, going sightseeing and enjoying a baseball game. I, on the other hand, had so far stood on a street corner as if I were a prostitute, had not-so-accidentally stumbled into a men's room, and had tied a man's shoe in public while revealing my derriere before a restaurant full of people.

Now, at thirty-eight years old, I'd be making my debut as an adult entertainer. Actually, the term "adult entertainer" was far too kind. I was going to be a cheap stripper in a sleazy bar, performing before an assembly of losers.

Vince escorted John and I through the backstage area. I saw two other strippers there, chatting and smoking cigarettes. The strange looks they gave me were almost reassuring- it was as if they were saying "you don't belong here". Well, I didn't want to. The music had stopped, and the tension inside me was really starting to build. I knew I was only moments from doing, by leaps and bounds, the most degrading thing I'd ever done in my life. The DJ then announced in a deep voice "Let's hear a warm welcome for...Julie!" and it was showtime.

I wondered if I'd be the first stripper in history to vomit onstage. I had just sucked down a strong drink, and the atmosphere was awful. The lights were overwhelmingly bright and hot, the place stunk of cigarette smoke and cheap beer, the shoes I had on were awkward and not made for dancing, and the awful heavy metal music they played was nothing short of deafening. I went out there and started dancing like a whirlwind, having no idea what I was doing. It was all like a blur. I didn't close my eyes, but I didn't focus on anyone. I would fixate on posters on the wall, empty chairs...anything but one of the faces that were watching me as I danced. I slowed down enough to turn facing the curtain and slowly shake my behind. As I started lifting my skirt, I heard hollers and applause. I actually figured that if I did this slowly enough, it would work as a stall tactic that, in a way, would get this over with more quickly. Thankfully it worked, because I was actually running out of ideas for things to do. The song ended and I abruptly ran backstage. I was already sweaty and exhausted, and there were two songs to go.

Vince and John were waiting for me backstage, and I was deeply embarrassed when I saw that they were both trying to stifle their laughter. The fact that the two of them were practically LAUGHING AT ME while I was attempting to titillate a roomful of strangers made my blood run cold.

Vince told me to take a deep breath and relax. He said I was dancing about five times as fast as I should have- so slow down! John then said I needed to look in the audience, as men were trying to give me dollar bills. I pointedly told John that I didn't want their money (I later apologized for my tone, blaming the stiff drink and my state of frantic nervousness and exhaustion), but Vince said that taking dollars was part of the show. The DJ announced my name, and off I went for round two.

An odd thought went through my head as I walked on the stage- I couldn't wait to get my blouse off. It was coming off anyway, and I felt as if I were in an oven.

As the music began to roar I looked around the audience for the first time- had John been lying to me? No one was offering dollar bills. But I did notice something- there were probably close to 100 men there, and all eyes were on me. I also noticed the looks of excitement and anticipation on their faces. It occurred to me that they knew what was coming- that on the second dance the stripper would show her breasts. They couldn't wait to see my mine, and somehow in my half-drunken state of confusion that brought a smile to my face. I had spent too many years married to a man that would rather look at a glass of vodka and orange juice than to look at me. Now, I had a room full of men that couldn't wait to look.

Holy shit...I was actually starting to enjoy this.

I started shaking my hips, s-l-o-w-l-y, just as Vince had instructed. I shot a confident smile to my onlookers, and s-l-o-w-l-y started to unbutton my blouse. I undid the bottom button, then the top, then from the bottom, until there was only one button left to be undone, which was almost perfectly aligned with the center of my breasts. I pushed my chest out and stretched that final button to the max as I continued to s-l-o-w-l-y shake my hips. There was a smattering of cheers and applause, which provided me a great deal of encouragement and boldness. I finally undid the last button, but I let my blouse hang down.

With both hands I teased opening my blouse, while raising one eyebrow to the spectators. Their whoops and cheers grew louder, and I actually used one of my hands to cup my ear, encouraging more applause. It worked, as the cheers grew louder. I finally pushed my shoulders forward, pulled my blouse behind them, and let it fall to the floor as I exposed my breasts to a room full of strangers.

May I immodestly say that the place went wild? Well, maybe not WILD, but there were lots of cheers and applause.

I then put my hands behind my head- just as I had done for John the first time I disrobed for him- and swayed my hips while sticking my chest out. I looked out toward the audience, and there must have been thirty men holding out dollar bills!

If taking the bills was part of the show, then I had to do it, right? I continued to sway my hips as I took the money out of the men's hands while looking at them, smiling, and saying "thank you". The song ended and it was time to go, but I kept snatching dollar bills out of people's hands. A couple of them asked if "they" were real, and I patiently replied that "they sure are".

When I finally got backstage, Vince told me not to worry- grabbing every available dollar was par the course in the industry.

Sorry to say, but the third dance was fairly anti-climactic. I got a nice ovation when I came out, but the removal of my skirt didn't get nearly the reaction as me taking off my top. I guess most women have the same thing between their legs, but my chest was the major attraction. Oh well.

After the dance I went backstage, and Vince quickly escorted John and I back to the dressing room. Despite being on display just a few moments earlier, I felt really awkward while walking around backstage naked with them. As soon as we got to the dressing room I quickly put my clothes back on, feeling really weird about getting dressed in front of Vince, who I barely knew. I know that makes no sense, especially since Vince is probably around naked women all of the time. My top was soaked in sweat, and one could easily see my nipples through the white fabric.

On his way out Vince said that if I ever needed extra money to give him a call. He said he was always looking for "fresh faces", that his "top girls" made up to $1,200 a week, and that cash tips often had a way of going unreported.

Vince's statement struck a chord with me- working as a stripper was another way I might possibly be making a living if I weren't married to Nate. In my mind, I once again resolved to be nicer to him.

John and I left the club, and we were both unusually quiet as he drove me back to my car. We arrived and he parked next to my car and John turned off the engine and got out with me. For whatever reason it was an awkward moment, as I didn't know what to say. I used the remote to pop the locks on the car and looked at John. He responded by taking me by the arm, and opening the door to the back seat. Without a word he gently pushed me into the back seat, got on top of me, and shut the door. I let out an involuntary sigh of pleasure as I felt his hands lifting up my short skirt up to the top of my waist. From there John unbuckled and dropped his pants, from there pushing his already hard cock inside me.

One of my faults is that I think too much. I was in the backseat of my family's car, letting the man I'd enslaved myself to screw my brains out with zero foreplay. The car was eight years old and my children had taken many a trip in the back seat John and I were occupying. I'm sure when they get older they'll remember being back there.

And here was their Mother, after leaving her underwear behind in a restaurant and dancing naked before a club full of strangers- and getting sweaty and gross while doing so- was having her brains screwed out by the man that dominated her, right where they sat so many times when we went on family outings. We were fucking more like animals than humans.

My parents had raised me to be a good girl, and for almost of my life I had been a daughter any parent could be proud of, a loyal wife, and a dedicated mother.

Part of me felt bad what I was doing, but it just felt too good- by the time John shot his orgasm inside me I had already cum three times.

Chapter 12 will be submitted by July 1, 2007

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