Recession Blues Ch. 01

"I'm not teasing, I promise."

"Then prove it," she demanded, "Be awake when I get home, ok? I'm between cycles... this may be the perfect time to start our family." Tom smiled again and nodded.

"Then wake me if I'm asleep." Ann snorted.

"I tried that last night. You left me hanging." Tom shrugged.

"It wasn't intentional, I promise. I'll prove it tonight," he assured her, choosing not to point out he had found her equally unresponsive just an hour or so before. Grabbing his case and coat, Tom leaned down and kissed his wife. "Have a great day, babe. I love you." And then he was out the door.

***

Ann sauntered to the front entrance, eyeing Jacen up and down as if she was a guy on the prowl. The big bouncer laughed.

"What's that about?"

"Looking pretty good, Jacen," she answered, Jacen was in his police uniform, which he sometimes wore when he was working the entrance.

"Speak for yourself," he answered with a wink, catching her hand and getting the pretty young wife to spin around. The move raised the ruffled hem of her mid thigh skirt, baring her tanned, muscular legs. Her blouse had a low V neck, and her breasts shifted tantalizingly, as if they might slip out and offer the others standing outside a free peek. "You are mouth watering," he told her. Ann beamed.

"Thanks," she said, patting his arm when he let go of her hand, "I'm glad you're here, because I wanted to tell you... I'm putting in my notice tonight. Tom and I are going to try to start a family." Jacen bowed his head.

"Well, good luck, but I hope you'll understand that I'm not going to jump up and down... I'm going to miss you." Ann patted his arm again affectionately,

"I'm going to miss you, too." Jacen nodded his thanks, thinking to himself that the boss was going to be pissed. "I'd better get inside or I'll be late," Ann pointed out, pausing to hug the much taller bouncer, "But anyways, thanks, Jaced, for watching out for me." The big bouncer watched her go in, then called for one of the others to come out to work the door. That was one of the perks of being in charge. If Ann was only going to be with them another couple weeks, he was going to get the most out of that time watching the beauty dance.

***

After completing her first set and doing a handful of lap dances, Ann made her way over to the head table. Leslie had not been seated on the floor when she had come in, but she did not figure there was any real issue with when she gave her notice. Several girls had just stopped coming to work while she had been working, but she wanted to do this the right way. She stopped, not caring that she was topless, and that to anyone watching it could have seemed she was putting herself on display for her boss. He had seen her nude before, though, after all. Leslie smiled at her, but most of his attention was on the girl dancing on the stage.

"Boss," she began, and he looked at her with greater focus, "I'm sorry to tell you this... and it's not anything that's happened here, you've all been great," suddenly Ann felt nervous. She twisted her hair in one hand, turning her knee inwards, looking every bit the bashful school girl, despite being wearing only lacy panties. "Tom and I are going to start trying to have a family, and he's got a good job now, so I won't be staying beyond the next two weeks." Leslie sighed and shook his head.

"Damn," he said in resignation, then looked her in the eye, "You've been great, Ann... one of my best. Are you sure nothing will change your mind?" Ann had smiled broadly at the compliment, but she shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry, sir... It's been a great experience, but it's time to move on.

"Well, I hate to lose you," Leslie told her honestly, "You're one of my top draws." Ann shook her head; that could not be true, there were so many good girls working at the club. He motioned toward one of the waitresses, who hustled away toward the bar.

"Thanks," she told him, "It's nice to be appreciated." Leslie just looked up at her, as if he could somehow convince her to change her mind, and after an uncomfortable pause, she cleared her throat, "Well, I'd better get back to working the floor." Her boss held up a finger, and after a moment the waitress brought two of the small highball glasses, the smoky brown liquid in his glass she was guessing was scotch, whereas hers was her usual staple—cranberry juice. At least that's what she thought until after touching glasses with Leslie in his silent toast. She took a drink before realizing there was alcohol in it, too. She coughed,

"Wow, that's strong," she said, wiping at her eyes, but dutifully taking another swallow. It still tasted like cranberry juice at least.

"I told you it was better with vodka," the club owner smiled at her, "Relax, enjoy yourself. Who knows," he shrugged, leaning back as if he had not a care in the world, "You have two weeks... you may still change your mind." Ann laughed, but assured him that was not going to happen. "Hope springs eternal, young lady," Leslie answered, then waved toward the crowd, "It's busier than usual tonight, I guess I shouldn't keep you from making money." Ann thanked him, killing the drink, and then with a shy half wave the beautiful young wife moved toward the other tables, smiling at the various patrons, in search of her next lap or table dance.

During her circuit of the room, Ann did a table dance for a bachelor party and then lap dances for the groom and grooms men, She had asked for drinks from the guys, as was expected, but the drinks were not the usual cranberry juice only, as she usually drank. Instead, each had been spiked with vodka, as well. Downing the fourth glass in four songs, Ann giggled because she was getting buzzed, and made a mental note to ask the bartender to go back to just the juice alone. She knew most of the girls got alcohol, but had always assumed it was watered down. She stood, thinking she was done, but the groom wanted another dance, which meant another drink.

And then one of the other dancers was warning Ann it was nearly her turn on stage. Surprised, she hurried back to the dressing room, choosing her next music and a different costume in a rush. There was a drink at her table, which she assumed would be her usual, but again it was spiked. Giggling, she asked if the rest of the dancers were trying to get her drunk, and the women naturally asked why they would be doing that. When she explained that she had given notice, they crowded around, asking why, and offering good wishes, with, of course, more toasts.

Ann was not as drunk as Tom had been on her first night working as an amateur, but she was close. The guys took advantage, too, groping her thigh, one brazen man actually tweaking a nipple as she prowled the stage on her hands and knees. She slapped his hand in shock but never stopped smiling or dancing, and when she went through the curtain afterwards she was nearly dripping she was so horny. It was only with some effort she managed to calm down, giggling at the image of laying back on the stage and taking all comers as her third set.

She worked the room again, doing several more lap dances, before her third set came up. She had taken to not drinking much of the drinks they bought for her, knowing she was drunk. At one point shortly before her third set, she wondered if she would have to call Tom to come get her, giggling that at least that way they would be able to have sex. The thought left her even hornier than the dancing and attention had; she nearly climaxed rubbing against the next lucky guy who wanted a lap dance.

Usually she packed up and left after her third set, but when she had finished, there was a drink and a note waiting at the station where she got made up to dance. A guest had asked specifically for her for a lap dance. Thirsty from the set, she tossed the drink back, absently wondering how much all the alcohol cost, and laughing that she had been a much more expensive dancer for the night.

Ann donned a thin cotton 'modesty bra' and panty set, pleased at the hint of cameltoe that was revealed, and went back out to the table number that was indicated. When the guy did not react to her approach, she wondered if they had the wrong number, which happened some times. She figured she would ask the bartender and was nearly past the man, who was sitting alone at one of the small tables, when he reached out and caught her hand. She jumped—the men were not supposed to touch, after all—and turned her attention to him. He was older, and distinguished looking. But there was something about his eyes... Ann's first impression was 'cruel.'

"You were topless earlier," he said with a frown. Ann giggled, deftly stripping the top off over her head.

"Is that better?" she asked him, jutting a hip out provocatively. He smiled and held up a fifty dollar bill. Ann bit her lip, and as the next song began, she straddled his thighs, putting just a bit of pressure against his crotch. He stifled a groan, and she began to sway, leaning forward to rub her bare breasts against his chest. Her drink was waiting when she finished the dance. She accepted the man's toast, and without complaint performed a second lap dance. She knew he was hard when the second number finished. He was not big, and she suspected he had been hard the entire time; sometimes you could not tell.

When the song ended, she started to climb off of his lap, but he caught her arm, snorting derisively when she looked at where he was holding her in pointed warning. He did not resist when she reached across, unwrapping his fingers.

"No touching, remember, sweetie?" Having a stripper call you 'sweetie' could be endearing, but deliverd as Ann had, it was a pointed warning. She did not bother looking for the nearest bouncer—they did not put up with aggressive customers. The man did not bother apologizing, the arrogant little prick.

"How about a private dance?" he asked, instead. That was the last thing Ann wanted to do, but it was still safe, she knew. She had done privates before, and while she knew that some of the girls let the customers feel them up... hell, she suspected some did more than that in the semi-private cubicles set up in another room. That was against the rules, though, or she would have never worked at the club.

"Sure, honey," Ann did not want to offer her notice and then piss off a customer on the same night. And money was money, after all. "You know that makes each dance another fifty bucks."

"No problem," the man was arrogant, as well. She had a vague feeling he was a regular, though. Not a fan of any specific girl, which could be a bad thing, she knew. Some creeps saw any woman that danced in a club as a slut, someone they could sneer at and paw at and generally be an ass toward. She resisted the urge to look for Jacen, again confident he or one of the other bouncers would be aware of what was happening.

"Okay, then, follow me." He caught her hand as he stood, and she did not protest... she knew that they let the guys have a little more freedom to touch in the private rooms... No groping, but a hand on her thigh or abdomen was not stepped on like it would be on the main floor.

Opposite the curtain leading to the dressing rooms, Leslie's club had a long dimly lit corridor with small booths... most were only big enough for two people. The seats were wider and had plush cushions which were more comfortable for the dancers. The back 'wall' was a heavy curtain like that hiding the dressing area, and served as a pass through for the waitresses and bartender and bouncers between the front and the back of the club.

At the edge of the hall, Ann stopped and checked—three rooms were in use, but there were still seven rooms available. She started to select the nearest, but her guest caught her hand, pointing at the farthest single, the one beside the farthest pair of 'party rooms' larger areas where as many as five men and three girls could dance. Ann had heard stories about those rooms, but had never seen anything to suggest it was more than rumor. She hesitated, the room was three away from the nearest occupied booth.

"We're supposed to go from the front to the back," she said but smiled at the same time. The man shrugged.

"Like I care," he pointed, "See, the first room is empty, so they weren't following the rules," and waggled his eyebrows as if that was suggesting Ann ignore the rules, too.

"It might have emptied after they went in," she said calmly, already sensing she was going to lose the argument, "It's late, so things are winding down."

"Well, 8 is my lucky number," he shrugged, "But I guess we don't have to do this... I can just go talk to my good buddy, Les." Ann sighed.

"No, it's fine," she said, still smiling, "We want everyone to enjoy themselves, especially Leslie's friends." He insisted on holding her hand as they walked down the corridor. She nearly gasped as they passed the third booth... the curtains were parted, and the dancer inside was on her knees, her head bobbing in the customer's lap. Ann hurried past, though the image stayed in her mind, her pussy twitching at the erotic if outrageous image. She hoped her guest had not seen. She was glad the curtains muffled what was happening in the booths. And there were several empty stalls between three and eight.

She opened the curtains to 'their' stall. When she had pushed the 'occupied' button at the front, lights had gone on in the little booth. There was a dimmer switch and a panic button in each room, as well, and speaker piping the club's music or private music from a small screen on the wall. She stood while her guest settled into his seat and chose the music from the screen.

"Close the curtains," the man demanded. Ann had tried to leave them open a bit, a common tactic when the girls worried a customer might be too aggressive. She shrugged and complied, verifying that she was close to the panic button. This guy was really making it hard to enjoy her work, and she was glad that most of Leslie's customers were actually gentlemen—they just enjoyed watching women.

The music started and Ann obediently straddled the man's lap and began to dance. He set his hands on the tops of her thighs, which made her skin prickle, but she did not stop him. In truth, she was a little distracted at what she had seen, shocked that some of the dancers would prostitute themselves like that; apparently the stories she heard weren't entirely made up. It made the entire club seem somehow sleazier.

The song ended and Ann slipped off of his lap, but the guy held up not one but two C notes.

"I'm not done," he said, "This room is expensive, and I want my money's worth." As he spoke... as Ann moved to climb onto his lap again, he reached down deftly opening his fly and fishing his cock out. The music started.

"Hey! You can't take that out in here," Ann said in shock. Snorting, the guy caught her by the waist with one hand, his other catching hold of her breast, mauling her bare nipple.

"Bullshit!" he sneered, "I want some of what that other guy was getting. C'mon and suck my dick. I don't care what it costs." Ann lunged for the panic button but the man guessed what she was doing and easily caught her arm. She found herself on her knees in front of him, one hand still pinching her nipple savagely, the other gripping her long hair; it hurt.

"I don't... Quit it, you asshole... HELP!" Abruptly the curtain behind the man opened, and Ann was looking up to see Jacen looming behind the man. From his position it was obvious what the guy was doing.

"She said hands off, asshole!" His big hand caught the man's wrist, and squeezed, the guy whining as he let go of Ann's hair. She had been trying to pull away and the sudden loss of resistance nearly meant she put her face in his crotch anyway. Jacen had caught his other arm high on the bicep, but his strength was obvious enough that the guy let go of her tortured nipple, too. Jacen yanked the guy into a standing position and bodily lifted him out of the booth and into the black corridor. "That's enough for you tonight," he growled, spinning the much smaller man into the corridor before he looked down at Ann once again.

"You okay, Ann?" he asked, and the shocked wife managed a nod, cradling her sore breast with one hand, but otherwise not caring that she was nearly naked in front of the big bouncer—it was her job, after all. "Just rest here. Sit tight. I'll see to this trash and bring you a drink." She nodded again, and then he was perp walking the customer down the hall. "You're out of here, asshole... You're name's going on the list." Ann was relieved; the club had a list of potential customers that were no longer allowed. Everyone had to show ID, of course, and sign their name in a ledger. It had seemed ridiculous when she and Tom had first visited, but now she understood and was grateful for the policy.

"That hurts!" the man whined, almost beyond ear shot.

"If you try that again I'll break your damn arm."

***

Ann was still shaking when Jacen reappeared some time later. She could not stop thinking about what that horrible man had almost made her do. She grabbed the glass Jacen handed her and drained it, not caring that it was another vodka spiked cranberry juice. One of the girls had brought her clothes, so Ann had dressed while she waited for Jacen to return. She put the glass down, stood up, and braced herself on the wall, taking a slow deep breath.

"You alright?" she could hear the concern in his voice, his hand hovering near, but not touching her, as if he worried that would make the situation worse.

"I... I wanted this to be a great memory right to the last day I was working," she stopped, struggling not to cry, "But I had a really bad night. It was so bad I don't think... I'm not coming back."

"Wow," the big bouncer was quiet for a moment. "I mean... other girls just go AWOL, but I always thought... I understand that you're shook up, and I'm sorry to hear that's how you feel. I guess it doesn't help that it happens sometimes to all of the girls," he paused, "That's why I'm here." Ann patted his hand.

"And I still hadn't thanked you for saving me," she smiled up at him, "My hero." Jacen beamed. "It wasn't that asshole," she said, "Or at least it's not just that... I saw one of the girls giving a customer blow job tonight." She looked up, expecting Jacen to be shocked. Instead, he seemed puzzled. And in turn she was shocked, which he realized.

"So what?" he shrugged, "That's how they make some extra money on the side." Ann could not believe what she was hearing.

"So what? So what?! But you're a cop! Shouldn't you arrest them?" Jacen snorted.

"I'm not a vice cop," he pointed out, "They could not moonlight here." He held up a hand to ward off her angry retort, "Look Ann, I don't interfere because as long as the girls want to do it, it would happen here or out on the street where I can't keep an eye out to keep them safe. So as far as I'm concerned, it's a victimless crime." Ann paused, then shook her head.

"I guess I had never considered it like that." She leaned over, kissing Jacen on the cheek, "Anyway, thanks for saving me."

"That's what I'm here for."

"I'm serious," Ann said, "I wouldn't have taken this job if you weren't here to protect me. I owe you one." Jacen stood up,

"It's emptied out, now, so I guess I'd better get you to your car." Ann nodded. "You sure you're safe to drive?" She paused; she had not considered that. She tried to remember how many drinks she had. "I mean," he suddenly seemed... shy, "If you needed to wait awhile I thought... well, maybe you could pay me back now?" Ann was puzzled.

"Someone's after you?" Jacen laughed.

"No. You know what I mean." Ann shook her head.

"Honestly, I don't. What do you mean?" Jacen opened his mouth, closed it. Opened it again.