Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 03

Dan's eyes opened wide in shock. The last thing he wanted was to ever work for Chuck! It did not have anything to do with what happened with Jen, it was the simple fact Dan hated Chuck with every molecule of his being. Still, as usual when talking with him Dan could not say anything in contradiction, so instead of vehemently denying him like he desired, he just said he would see Chuck in the evening sometime after 7:00 pm, the time coming to him as it was the time Jen's shift started, knowing he would have to warn her beforehand.

Hanging up the phone he was startled when it immediately rang again. Seeing the same number of the club, Dan answered by asking, "What, you change your mind about seeing me tonight?" hoping it was true.

Jen's surprised voice came across the other line as Dan realized she was calling from one of the other club phones. He quickly explained what had just happened, joking about how the last thing he would do was work for Chuck when she herself was quitting when Jen got noticeably quiet on the other end.

Asking what was wrong, Jen said when she asked to get out of the contract Chuck had told her it could not be nulled or revoked, explaining the reason he was out of town yesterday was to finalize everything for all the girls. She had been the last one to sign, so once he had gotten her signature he had wanted to make sure everything was processed quickly through their Human Resources department before the property sale finished.

Asking her if she told Chuck of her intention to quit, she said, "The bastard actually threatened to sue me for breach of contract, saying he had already invested plans for me. The asshole said the only way I could get out now was to buy it out from the company for over two hundred thousand dollars!" she exclaimed. "Where the fuck would we get that money?" she asked. "And how the hell could he even sue us for that much?"

Dan's heart dropped into his stomach as she continued, explaining how Chuck had informed her as a DSA spokesmodel she had more responsibilities and appearances required than a common dancer. He already had arranged several promotional engagements as well as a scheduled for her to go on tour.

Dan grimly recalled the comments in the investigative report, hoping it had embellished on the truth in order to make DSA look worse than it may have been. He wondered if her 'engagements' were nothing more than dancing.

Then another thought occurred to him as he asked, "How long is the contract for?"

If Jen only had to work at the club for another year it would be rough, but they could probably swing it without Chuck finding out Dan and Jen were acquainted. They could probably postpone the wedding, although they would both be upset, but it was at least manageable.

Then his heart stopped at Jen's response, "Five fucking years!" she exclaimed. "And supposedly it is a 'fixed term modified open-ended contract' or whatever the fuck he called it, explaining it was immediately renewable after each term. I would have to go out of my way and get a lawyer to get out of the contract before its renewal," she said with exasperation.

Dan asked what the contract entailed as Jen told him she did not know a lot of the specifics, a Fed Ex copy would be sent to the house by tomorrow. Since they had the weekend off, they could go over it.

Dan knew she had probably been too upset about the length of the time and getting out of the contract to worry about questioning what it actually required, as his mind flashed back to the investigative reports.

Jen was obviously upset, as was Dan, but he did not want to increase her anxiety while at work as he replied, "I guess for now we just continue as normal," he reasoned to Jen's frustrated sigh. "We can't really do anything until we get a copy of that contract—but I do think we need to get a lawyer to look it over," he said as she agreed.

He mentioned Chuck's invitation for Dan to visit tonight at the club and again Jen got extremely quiet. She finally berated him for accepting, but agreed him avoiding Chuck's presence would seem equally suspicious. Jen knew how much Chuck intimidated Dan and how he could rarely think straight around him, so they agreed to continue pretending not knowing each other. Jen told him she would tell everybody at the club to keep quiet so Chuck would not catch on.

Suddenly Jen's loud exclamation came across the phone, "Fuck!"

Dan saw several people around the office look towards him, her voice heard even through his headset. Asking what happened, Jen again got quiet for a few minutes as he asked her again what was wrong.

"The only one who I won't be able to talk to is Tim," she said hesitantly.

It took Dan a few minutes to think of who she was talking about, finally remembering the other bartender the club had hired a few months ago. Tim actually worked a swing shift, so Dan had rarely came into contact with him, barely knowing him. On the evenings Dan came by to pick up Jen, John was the usual person working late. Tim spent more time working days restocking the bar and opening the club, while John came in later when the crowd typically got bigger.

Asking why that would be a problem he again waited while Jen paused before continuing, "Well, I found out Tim actually has worked for DSA for some time. He basically was sent here to look over the property and see how things were maintained before Mr. DeWight bought it," she said. "In fact, he is leaving and will be the new manager at the Slithering Lizard—which has been renamed by the way, to the Wet Cherry—not much of an improvement if you ask me. Anyways, I don't know if Tim knows you or not," she said worriedly.

Dan reassured her, telling him if he had trouble recalling him, Tim probably would not remember as well. "Hell, he's been around so little he probably doesn't even know you or any of the other girls," Dan said, as Jen became noticeably silent over the phone.

Finally at Dan's persistent inquiring she said quietly, "He may have more reason to remember me now," she said quietly. "Tim was in the office when Mr. DeWight told me he was going to be the new club's manager," she said softly.

"And...?" Dan asked as his pulse raced in dread wondering what happened.

"As congratulations..."she trailed off again. There was such a long pause Dan did not think she would continue as she finally finished, "As congratulations Mr. DeWight told me I had to do a lap dance for Tim," she said quietly.

"What the fuck?" Dan said. It was an unspoken rule for the guys working the club to politely ignore the girls so they would not freaked out at their fellow workers ogling them. Having to perform for another employee was just not done. "What happened," he asked, fearing the worst.

"Apparently part of the new fucking contract is I have to now dance nude at least one set a night," she said. Dan knew how much Jen had refused to dance nude over the years—the other night was a huge exception due to her being drugged. He could understand how upset Jen was—as he was himself—but his anger was directed towards Chuck, not Jenny.

"So what happened?" he asked reluctantly.

"He was a fucking octopus," she said angrily, using the term the girls used for guys who kept trying to grope them during a dance, having hands everywhere.

Dan told her he understood, blaming Chuck and the damn contract, reassuring her they would work on getting her out of there as soon as possible.

He was not worried about Tim who was now working at the new club. Dan was confident the chance of Tim knowing him and Jen were an item, let alone telling Chuck about it, was slim at best.

He again soothed her chaotic emotions explaining he did not blame her for doing something like that in her predicament and they could talk more about it if she wanted this weekend.

"Maybe you can hire me for a lap dance and keep me occupied the rest of the night," she chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

Laughing at her light-hearted comment Dan hung up the phone thinking about the turn of events. There was no way Jen could work for the club another five years. Even before the club was on the market they had been planning on her leaving after they set the date for their wedding. It had been only a matter of time until enough was saved for her to go back to school and pursue a different career. They needed to find a way for her to get out of that contract before things got worse!

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

As Jen hung up the phone, she felt terrible. A day after her and Dan swore to never keep things between the two of them and she was going against that promise, lying to him for the second time in two days. As before it was with the best intentions, feeling what Dan did not know would not hurt him, but she still felt terrible as she recalled her day.

By the time she had gotten to the club Mr. DeWight had already arrived, but when she tried to meet up with him he told her he had several teleconference calls and would not be able talk to her until after lunchtime.

Denise and Mary were already there so she worked with them on their routines. They wanted her to show them some of the newer moves she performed yesterday. At the mention of the day before, Jen's memory flashed to her predicament in the VIP room, the large foreman finger fucking her in front of his men, holding her up solely by her right breast, which was still tender. She recalled how aroused she had been, cumming almost continuously as his hand and fingers worked their magic, her pulse slightly rising as she once again became aware of her surroundings, Denise and Mary looking at her questioningly.

Entering the dressing room Jen immediately noticed the newest edition of furniture—a vending machine with 'Divine Silk Attractions, Inc.' scrolled across the top in gold. It was not the addition of the vending machine that was the most surprising, as Jen saw the front of the machine, an almost life-size picture of her hanging off a pole!

Looking at Mary and Denise, she asked, "What the fuck?"

The girls smiled, shrugging their shoulders. "Guess it's promoting the new DSA spokes-stripper," Mary laughed at her. "This is supposedly the prototype—obviously put here for your benefit," she chuckled, "since you're head isn't big enough already," she laughed.

The girls explained the machine contained bottled water and was free for them, so Jen pushed a button, a bottle of cold water falling into the bin. As she pulled the bottle out she saw the label, another picture of her—this one of her spinning perpendicular to the bottle, her form wrapped around it as if the bottle were the pole with the label.

Reading the label she said out loud, "Stripper Water?"

"Would you prefer 'Jen Juice'?" Denise teased.

"Or how about 'Diamond Drinks,'" Mary joined in as they all laughed.

Mary explained how they were told the machines were going to be distributed at all the clubs and holdings of DSA, but they got the first one.

"As if looking at you in real life wasn't enough," Denise said. "Still, it's free bottled water, so we don't have to bring our own any more or drink that shitty tap water from the bar while practicing," she said, pushing the button several times and grabbing the bottles to take out to the floor with them.

Jen smiled she followed the two out to the stage.

Mary went to the DJ booth and put their CD tracks in the sound system, bringing back the remote so they could stop and start the songs as needed.

Stripping down to their outfits, the girls whistled at Jen, commenting on how hot she looked. Mary told her she wanted to steal Dan for their wardrobe designer as Jen quickly told them to be quiet. She explained what was going on with her trying to get out of the contract, as well as Dan's history with Chuck. She realized she had not told them what was going on yet as she felt some of the weight lifted off of her shoulders confessing to her two friends. She cherished how much she loved the girls as they agreed with her and Dan's plan, agreeing to help out where they could and treating Dan like any other guy.

They turned on the music and began warming up around the poles. Since the stage had been redone with three poles, they could now all practice together and were soon absorbed in rehearsing their routines on the three new poles.

They went through several moves together when Mary first noticed and mentioned to them about Tim acting strange. It was easy to see the bartender with the house lights on as Jen hung upside down on the pole, her breasts barely contained in her halter top while gravity pulled them out. Instead of being behind the bar and restocking it as usual, Tim was sitting at one of the center tables, a drink in his hand as he blatantly watched the girls—or more to the point, at Jen.

Seeing her noticing him, he raised his glass in a toast as he slowly and deliberately stuck out his tongue and ran it across his upper lip, staring at Jen the entire time.

Flipping her body seductively around the poll in beat to the Rolling Stones' 'Love is Strong,' Jen slid to a sitting position and asked Mary what the hell was up with him. Mary told her she had no idea, but he had been watching them—or Jen—for a while.

Typically the guys working at the club made it a point to not stare at the girls or make them feel uncomfortable, so Tim's behavior was abnormal. Jen recalled the day before remembering when Brutus had entered the dressing room he had tried to make a hasty exit when he saw Jen naked. At the time she told him it was alright, but then she remembered Tim coming in, openly looking at her without any hint of embarrassment or apology.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the same intent look on Tim's face as yesterday, causing her to feel uneasy, as if he were imagining her naked as she practiced. It was unnerving and completely out-of-character for a co-worker. Jen tried to focus on their practice and ignore him; however, in the back of her mind she was very aware of his attention the entire time.

Even with Tim watching and making her feel uncomfortable, the girls had a good routine, their bodies glittering with sweat by the time they finished. They had drunk several bottles of 'Stripper Water' to their increasing amusement, actually glad the vending machine had been placed in their room.

Looking at the clock Jen noticed it was already 2:00pm, having worked out for almost four hours. It was one of their longest work-outs, but she was feeling invigorated instead of tired. She felt alive, not worried about performing the rest of the night even with the workout they had—instead it was a good warm-up session for the evening.

She was feeling slightly light-headed as if she had been hanging upside down a bit too long, so took another long swig of water from her bottle. After such a long workout, she speculated she was probably more dehydrated than she thought. She finished the bottle, several drops of condensation falling off the bottle onto her chest as she raised it to her lips, the cool drops refreshing as they rolled down between her breasts.

Mary and Denise had plans to go to the local Fresh Harvest café specializing in salads and organic dishes; however, Jen still wanted to talk to Mr. DeWight so asked them to get her a salad, saying she would catch up with them later.

Jen procrastinated in the dressing room, taking time to wipe off the sweat from her practice with the Wet Wipes from her bag. The last time she had been in a room with Mr. DeWight she had been drugged and naked, sucking him and letting him fuck her. And then in the afterglow of rigorous sex, had signed the contract she was now trying to break; so of course she was nervous.

She had to get her courage up, deciding she needed a drink. Calling to the bar on the house phone, she asked Tim if he bring her a drink, less concerned with his odd behavior than having to meet with Mr. DeWight.

While she waited she undid her top, using the Wet Wipes in her bag to sponge the rest of herself off. Typically the girls did not wear deodorant, as even the clear ones left a residue, and if they put their arms around a customer the last thing they wanted was wiping it on them. As such the girls kept a large supply of various moist towlettes to keep themselves clean.

Jen was bent over cleaning the inside of her legs when she became aware of another presence. Turning around she saw Tim standing behind her holding a drink, his eyes focused on her bare breasts.

Angered, she told him, "Knocking would have been nice," grabbing the drink out of his hand.

She was surprised at his answer as he told her, "And miss out on those Grade A tits of yours? No way. Mind if I have a feel? I'm dying to know if they're real or fake," he told her unashamedly, his eyes never leaving her chest.

Jen felt her body flush at his blatant behavior, angered even more. The guys always afforded the girls privacy in the dressing room. Even though the girls may strip down to nothing on the floor in front of them during a shift, they were awarded some privacy and decency in the dressing room.

"When hell freezes over," Jen told him.

Although unnerved by his stare, Jen had stripped for too long to cover herself. She did not want him to think he bothered her as much as he did, so kept cleaning herself off. He laugh when she told him to fuck off, completely taken aback by his behavior, a flurry of motions overcoming her. On one hand she was pissed off at his comments and treatment of her, and yet she could not help but feel slightly turned on at the openly carnal and lewd way he was looking at her.

Jen had many reasons why she stripped, and although the most common was money, it was also to feel desired. At her core she was an exhibitionist—what stripper was not in some way—and the unusual attention Tim was giving her body was not only unnerving, but somewhat arousing.

"Well if you insist," he grinned at her lecherously, her body again flushing at his odd behavior.

Her emotions at odds, she downed her drink in one gulp, too late realizing it was not only pure vodka on the rocks but at least four shots as her throat and stomach warmed to the raw liquor. Continuing to ignore Tim, she grabbed her halter top and put it back on, stuffing her breasts back into place, keenly aware of him watching her the entire time.

While she was adjusting her chest Tim told her, "Don't get dressed on account of me, I'd like to see you in nothing but those hot shoes and leg wrap you're wearing," he told her openly.

Pissed off, Jen shoved passed him as she exited the dressing room telling him over her shoulder, "Other than on stage, it will be a cold day in hell you get any closer than now," she told him angrily. "And it's a Flex garter asshole, not a leg wrap," she informed him as she went down the hall towards Mr. DeWight's office, riled up at his rude behavior.

As she knocked on the office door, she had one thing to be thankful of for Tim's rude behavior, it had gotten her irritated enough to no longer care about seeing Mr. DeWight, hearing his voice on the other side of the door telling her to come in.

Entering the office Jen was immediately taken aback by how the office had changed. When Willie had owned the club the office had been strictly that, a bare office with grey walls, the only furnishings being a steel desk and chairs as well as a single file cabinet. The girls avoided the room as much as possible, the standing joke being about their asses freezing off if they sat in the cold metal chairs.

Now the room had transformed into much more, resembling a boudoir, only in a masculine way. The walls had been covered with purple cloth wallpaper with small fleur-de-lis patterns and strips across it. The shade was darker than her outfit she realized abstractedly.

One corner of the room contained a small stage with a stripping pole. Although odd for an office, considering the environment, it blended in instead of being out of place. The effect was similar to those in the VIP rooms, she thought.