Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 03

Closest to the stage along the wall was a cream-colored French chaise lounge sofa, further giving the room a relaxed atmosphere.

In addition, she noticed four large plasma screen televisions mounted in each corner of the room, such that there was nowhere you would be in the room without seeing what was on them.

Entering the room, Jen was surprised as her feet sank into the plush carpeting covering the entire room except for the stage, which had typical rubberized flooring similar to the main stage in the club and VIP rooms.

Turning her attention to Mr. DeWight, she saw him sitting behind a large cherry wood executive desk behind a computer. In front of the desk were two high-backed leathered trim chairs covered with dark velvet.

As she entered further into the room he stood up, moving around the desk towards her.

"Diamond, it is a pleasure to see you," he said. "I do apologize I could not meet with you earlier," he told her, wrapping his arm around her waist and escorting her to one of the high-backed chairs.

Jen was intensely aware of his hand around her bare waist, the heat of his flesh and the firm grip around her momentarily taking her off-guard as she sat down.

Once again she noted how he called her by her stage name, even though he knew her real name. It was something he had been doing with all the girls since the first day he introduced himself, explaining he was a firm believer in work staying work, and home-life—including their real names—remaining home. It immediately told her he was going to treat her as Diamond the stripper instead of Jen the person, knowing she had her work cut out if she was going to convince him of releasing her from the contract.

Sitting down in the chair next to hers, he smiled warmly, "So what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked charmingly. "You seemed fairly intent on talking with me, and I again apologize for other corporate matters interfering with spending time with my top spokesmodel," he smiled.

Jen blushed slightly at the compliment as she gathered her nerve. About to tell him the reason for coming to him, he suddenly stood up surprising her as he told her, "Where are my manners!" he exclaimed as he reached over to the desk and picked up the phone.

"Tim, could you please bring some drinks to my office?" he said over the phone. Jen tried to tell him not to bother but he waved his hand dismissively, "Yes, you know what Diamond needs, and I'll take a bourbon," he said over the phone. Looking at Jen, he asked, "Do you need lunch or anything?"

Shaking her head no, she explained to him Mary and Denise were bringing her lunch, so he quickly hung up the phone and sat back down next to her, motioning for her to continue as he comfortably leaned back into the chair watching her.

As Jen took a breath to begin, she could not help but feel exposed. She may have been dressed, but the way his eyes roamed across her body she knew he did not miss an inch of exposed skin on her body. Oddly instead of feeling ill at ease, she was shocked to realize her body felt flushed at the attention he was giving her, becoming aware of her nipples tightening in arousal.

She once again became aware of the last time she had been this close to Mr. DeWight, his cock slamming into her, their pelvic bones meeting together as her hips thrusted forward in response, her high-heeled boots wrapped around him and pulling him further into her. Forgotten until this moment, she suddenly recalled the warm flush inside her when he came, her womb filling with his seed as she had realized he had removed the condom he had put on in front of her, the thought of his seed emptying into her making her legs clench, pulling him further into her.

Even now she felt an involuntary spasm in her pussy at the memory. She looked up at Mr. DeWight's smiling face, wondering if he was aware of her thoughts. She became aware of her pulse increased; knowing if she looked down, her nipples would be clearly outlined through her top.

Before she could again gather her thoughts and start speaking, she was once again interrupted at the door knocking as Mr. DeWight let Tim in, carrying a tray of drinks.

"Ah thank you Tim!" Mr. DeWight told the other man as Jen looked up, seeing Tim again unashamedly looking at her—or more succinctly at her cleavage. He openly smiled and Jen blushed, knowing he had noticed her hardened nipples, the humiliation also turning her on further.

Tim asked Mr. DeWight if there was anything else he needed who replied, "Not at this moment, although I may need you later, so please check back."

Jen watched Tim leave, Mr. DeWight's ahead of him to open the door with his back to them as Tim looked straight at her, his hands clenching in the air as he mimicked squeezing her tits.

Jen felt her skin tingle, not sure what was happening to her. Not willing to give him the satisfaction of a response, Jen turned and took her drink, taking a long pull of the vodka on rocks before hearing the door close.

"Now, hopefully we will not have any more interruptions," Mr. DeWight said, taking a sip of his drink as well. "So what can I do for you?" he asked again, sitting next to her.

"Well," Jen started reluctantly, pushing the thought of her sexual encounter with her boss from her mind, "it's about this whole spokesmodel thing," she started.

Mr. DeWight immediately began speaking, "I know, it's all so fast, and for that reason I wanted to let you know I will be flying you out to the main corporate office Monday, so you can have your spokesmodel orientation. There are actually a couple of other girls I have promoted to the position—although you are definitely my number one girl," he said to her, his eyes again roving over her body as Jen felt her skin heat up again. "Sorry for the late notice, but that was part of today's meetings to make sure everything was in place before I sent all of you to LA," he told her.

Jen felt overwhelmed at this latest news as she tried to continue, "Mr. DeWight, I think I made a mistake," she began.

Again he immediately began speaking, almost interrupting her. "In what way? You are without a doubt the most beautiful girl I have had the pleasure of meeting," he told her as she smiled at the compliment while he continued. "In addition, I have seen you dance, and you rival other professionals like Jenyne Butterfly, Crystal Lai, or Felix Cane, maybe even better in some regards. Honestly, I have not seen your equal," he told her approvingly.

Jen reddened at the praise, again thanking him. "What I mean is I feel like I was taken advantage of...in...well...in signing the contract," she finally admitted.

"Wait, are you upset about us making love?" he asked her openly as Jen' felt her face flush even further.

"I'm not sure I would call it making love," she began as he again interrupted.

"Were you taken by force?" he asked, continuing as Jen shook her head, "Was it not pleasurable?" he said, resuming on as Jen slowly nodded. "Diamond, what took place was something intimate and pleasurable between two consenting adults. I apologize if you have regrets after the fact, but if you had indicated any misgivings I would have stopped," he told her. "In fact, I remember you fully accepting things, but let's take a look," he said, getting up from his chair.

Jen wondered what he was talking about as he moved to his desk and began typing on his computer. Out of the corner of her eye Jen noticed the plasma screens turn on as she turned her attention to them, seeing one of the VIP rooms come on the screen before their decoration.

Suddenly she realized he had pulled up the security cameras from that night!

Jen watched in horror as she saw Mr. DeWight escort her into the room. She was nude except for her high-heeled thigh-high red boots as he sat down on the now-replaced sofa while she stood in front of him. His voice came across the speakers built in the ceiling, asking her if she still thought she could not dance nude, her reply coming clearing through the speakers as she told him she had drank too much.

Listening to the tape, Jen realized her excuses sounded lame and weak even to her as Mr. DeWight on the tape explained how much the position would earn her, and how he knew her financial circumstances were severe enough that this would be one of the best things she could do.

At her hesitation she heard him tell her he did not want to rush things, asking her if she still wanted to dance. As Jen watched the screen, he reached over, the speakers filling with Marilyn Manson's 'Sweet Dreams,' Even in the office Jen felt her pulse speed up as the rhythmic beat of the song filled the office.

Although she knew what happened next, she sat mesmerized, watching herself dance on the screen, Mr. DeWight running his hands up her legs, across her bare ass, pulling her closer between his spread legs on the couch. Jen had never watched herself dance other than in front of a mirror, and was astonished to see how seductively she danced, her body swaying to the song. Jen was amazed at how sensual she looked.

As if it was another person—and it was, this was Diamond the stripper—Jen saw herself turn around on the screen, sinking down to her haunches and pulling Mr. DeWight's hands over her breasts. Mesmerized at the scene portrayed on the screen, she watched transfixed as she leaned back into his lap, sliding up and down his crotch while Mr. DeWight's hands roamed over her body.

The security tapes were surprisingly clear, she noted abstractedly. Even in black-and-white she could see every fine detail, her hardened nipples, her glossy lips, and her obvious response to Mr. DeWight's handling of her body.

Jen's memory on what had occurred that night was foggy. Other than the key points, she had obvious gaps in her memory due to both the alcohol and drugs. She was now amazed at how seductive the sight was, being a provocative revelation.

The view changed as Jen realized the view had switched to one of the other cameras in the room—specifically the one low on the floor. In horror she saw it begin to zoom in between her legs. Jen stared in shock as she realized she had been completely soaked, the camera easily displaying her moistened slit. As if in a dream, Jen watched as a hand came into the view—Mr. DeWight's—his finger easily sliding between her moistened folds.

Jen's loud moan came across the speakers as she watched in morbid fascination as she was finger fucked on the camera. With alarm, she clearly noted her hips riding up and down in response to his hand moving in and out of her.

After a few minutes it moved away, her labia parted from his finger's presence as she heard Mr. DeWight on the screen telling her it was his turn.

The camera view switched again as Jen proceeded to watch herself give her boss head, her moans coming loud and clear across the speakers as she eagerly sucked the large cock.

Jen was completely absorbed by the scene on the screen, absently sipping her drink. She was not sure how long the scene lasted, but then the camera changed again as she her head was moved away, the view of Mr. DeWight's large cock soaked with her saliva shimmering in the light.

The camera panned back as he stood up, raising her with him, his cock sticking straight out. Although she knew what happened, she was still shocked as Diamond on the screen reached over and took out a condom from the club's hidden supply, handing it to Mr. DeWight. He then turned her around, bending her over the table.

As she watched, Jen again remembered the cold feeling of the table against her bare breasts as she stared at the screen, spotting Mr. DeWight pull off the condom and slam into her in one motion, her loud shout coming across the speakers clearly, "Ugh, fuck!"

Jen was momentarily startled when she felt hands on her shoulders, realizing she had been so engrossed by the scenes on the television she had lost complete awareness of her surroundings. Mr. DeWight had moved behind her and slowly began massaging her bare shoulders while Jen's attention was pulled back to the television.

Her loud moans of pleasure and cries of "Oh yes!" echoed not only through the VIP room on the screen but also within the office as Mr. DeWight began pumping into her.

Jen continued to watch, her eyes transfixed to the screen as the scene continued. Jen did not enjoy porno movies; however, watching herself on tape stirred a desire she typically did not feel. She was clearly aware of being aroused, the slow and steady massage of Mr. DeWight—forgotten by her mind being so focused on the screen, but not by her body which was unable to ignore the skin-on-skin contact—rubbing gently across her body.

Jen viewed the screen as Diamond turned around, eagerly accepting the cock offered to her as Mr. DeWight fucked her face to face, her breasts swaying to each thrust, her legs pulling him deep into her until he finally came inside her.

The scene ended with him asking—and her agreeing—to sign the contract, the televisions fading to black as the tape obviously ended.

"You see Diamond," Mr. DeWight said quietly from behind her, his hands slowly stroking the skin of her upper arms while he talked, "there was no indication of any reticence on your part. In fact, in most cases I was complying with your demands," he told her quietly.

Jen's mind was in turmoil. Although knowing about the rooms having security cameras, and even the knowledge of Dan having watched the same scenes she just had, her awareness of the night was clouded. Mr. DeWight's hands moved over her shoulders and began massaging her neck, the sensation not helping as her mind reeled in shambles.

"Although there may be some regret now, you were clearly willing and eager. If this tape ever came to court, I do not think anybody would believe you were coerced," he told her.

Jen's mind went into shock at the mention of a court as he continued. "And as I mentioned, it is already too late. The reason I was gone yesterday was to take all of the contracts to the home office so HR could get the benefit packages done, as well as get you all into payroll," he told her quietly, his hands squeezing her shoulders rhythmically.

Jen bit her tongue, suppressing a moan at the magnificent feeling of his hands on her shoulders as his voice continued behind her. "At this point everything is legal and set in stone; I am as bound to it as you are. In fact, to break it now would cost well over two-hundred thousand dollars."

Jen looked up at him in surprise.

"Yes, you are worth that much and more to the company," he smiled down at her, his hands squeezing her upper arms again, sending another wave of pleasure through her body. "In fact, based on the two days of you officially being a part of the company, I would estimate your presence has earned well over twenty-five thousand dollars already," he smiled down at her.

"How?" she whispered, aware her body was feeling the effects of her drinks, as well as the mesmerizing motion of Mr. DeWight's hands on her shoulders.

"Well, you saw part of the advertising campaign invested in you already with the vending machine. In addition, there have been other, well, more lucrative investments already made in your name that have had an immediate influx of financial benefits. That is why I want to fly you to the corporate offices next week so you can understand some of the responsibilities expected of you. For now, let me go over some of the more pressing points," he told her, his hands continuing their mesmeric squeezing of her body, slowly moving down her arms.

"First, you have to realize there are corporate obligations you will be required to fulfill, as DSA girls are not just dancers, but representatives of the entire corporation; however, I understand this is all so sudden so I'll go over some of the immediate issues. As you are aware, all the girls are contracted to earn a specific amount in table dances and other house amenities," he told her as she quietly nodded, a soft sigh escaping her as his hands squeezed the nape of her neck, the sheer pleasure of the sensation overcoming her restraint.

"Well, all the girls are required to pull in a nightly average of $200.00—and although I know this may sound low, you have to realize this is averaged over a seven-day work week. Unlike other agreements, the girls are not required to earn that amount each night, but as an average, so some nights they can pull in more to make up for the loss of others. The bottom line is a full week should net around $1400.00. Although I do not plan on changing the hours of operation of the Satin Kitty or ask the girls to dance more, our corporate obligations mean we operate on a full week. As most of you girls work four nights a week, that means an average night should net around $350 per girl," he explained.

Jen tried to keep track of the conversation, but her mind was feeling fuzzy, wondering if she had drank too much, her lack of lunch causing the alcohol to affect her more than it should as Mr. DeWight continued.

"The girls can work extra nights to make up any difference, so it is not like we are trying to screw them over. In addition, they are getting a regular paycheck, a medical and dental insurance plan, as well as worker's compensation and all the benefits of a real job," he told her, his hands continuing to slide across her skin, his fingers outlining her clavicles.

"Of course, you being the corporate spokesmodel have a different earning schedule. I don't want you to be shocked when you see the number, so I will tell you right now your obligation in earning is $1000.00 a night," he said behind her.

Jen's mind immediately cleared, "A thousand dollars!" she exclaimed, jerking out of Mr. DeWight's hands on her upper arms. The concept further entered her clouded mind as she realized what he was saying, "Wait a minute," she cried, "that's seven thousand dollars a week!" she said in shock, looking up at him, "That's impossible!"

Mr. DeWight was smiling. "If your sole earnings were from dancing, then yes, I agree it would be too much; however, as I mentioned," he told her, turning her forward and continuing his massage, "in the last two days your investments have earned almost $25,000, meaning you don't need to dance for almost a full month before having to make up any difference," he told her.

"In addition, I should state another clause in your contract is a bonus for making percentages above your goal," he said to her. "It is still too early to determine your earnings for this month, but I would expect you to get a bonus check at the end of the month for at least $10,000.00," he told her.

Jen could not believe what she was hearing. Based on what Mr. DeWight was saying, she could earn almost a hundred grand a year—in bonuses alone! For the last month he had been telling her she could easily have a six figured salary when trying to get her to sign the contract, but she had not believed it. With just the bonus money alone she could pay for her and Dan's wedding as well as pay for school, even if Dan did not work.

"Obviously this needs time to sink in a bit," she heard Mr. DeWight say behind her, his hands moving over her body. This time Jen did not hold back her sigh of contentment as his gentle squeezing of her shoulders sent waves of relaxing pleasure through her as he continued. "There are two other major changes having an immediate impact on you working here," he said as she glanced up at him. She made sure to move slowly so his hands would not stop their rhythmic kneading of her flesh as he smiled at her.

"The first is we are privatizing the clubs," he told her. "This is something all DSA clubs have done, and it allows us to be able to control the quality and caliber of customers, as we can now screen them before they become members to enter the club. The Satin Kitty has a higher class of clientele I want to maintain, and as awareness of you improves, I do not want it to resort to a simple titty bar," he told her bluntly. "The clubs becoming private allows us to offer more personal contact with customers, as the basic laws of public indecency no longer apply. Being a private club, the patrons will not be as restricted with contact with the dancers and vice versa, something we have been able to exploit in most cities we've established clubs in," he told her.