Strippers Regret

Spoiler Alert: While this story does not contain explicit sexual acts it does contain themes of a sexual nature. It is recommended that the reader decide what they are in the mood for before proceeding.

Does sex sell? Megan Perry had pretty much concluded that it did. Delivering food for the Dish Out Delivery App was proving much harder than prancing up and down the stage of Toppers Gentlemen's Club. It paid a lot less as well.

After just her third delivery in three hours, Megan began wondering why she had listened to her boyfriend Chad Breydon. As she headed out for another pickup on the slow Friday night she thought about their disagreement.

"I made a lot of money at Toppers," she'd insisted. "Enough to pay all my bills and sock away savings for Grad school."

Chad shook his head dismissively, "No, I want you all to myself. I don't want every horn dog in the city drooling over my girl."

"But I'm barely making ends meet now," Megan responded.

"I told you I'd pay whatever bills you needed help with."

"I know but you paid my last month's rent late and left me to pay the fee."

That response seemed to make him angry, "It was still cheaper than full rent, wasn't it? Can we stop talking about this and quit thinking about going back to stripping."

"Fine," Megan fretted.

She had agreed to end the conversation, but she knew she was right. She was five foot ten, fit and firm with perky tits and a bouncy ass. Guys and even some girls paid good money to see her perform. She wasn't going to look like this forever, what was the harm in making money off her body while she could?

Megan's thoughts were interrupted when her cell phone rang. She was surprised by the name on the screen, Roger Parker. He'd been a manager at Toppers but left a few months before Chad made her quit.

"Hey Roger, how's it going?" she greeted.

"Good, good. How about you?" the friendly voice asked.

"I'm doing ok thanks. We've not talked in like forever, what's going on?"

"I'll cut right to it Megan. I'm the general manager at Cassiopeia now. I know it is a lame name but it's a good club. We're clean, upscale, and attract some high rollers. There's a big convention in town next weekend and I am looking to add a few ladies to both Friday and Saturday's lineup."

Megan frowned, "I'm sorry Roger I can't."

"If you're already scheduled at Toppers just call in sick. I'll pay you double their hourly rate and I'm sure you'll make three times the tips."

With a wince, Megan answered, "It's not that. I quit the business."

"What?! I'm shocked," Roger responded. "With all you've got going for you you quit? Babe you've got an amazing body, you're an incredible dancer and the clientele loves you."

"Thanks, but I'm with a guy now and I'm trying to be respectable."

"Megan there is nothing disrespectable about being good at what you do and making good money while doing it. I don't know who this guy is, but I hope he's worth it."

"Thanks."

"No seriously, think about what I said and if you change your mind give me a call."

"I will."

She ended the call with his words still ringing in her ears. She wondered if Chad was worth it. He was middle-aged, very attractive, and worked at an accounting firm. She liked that he was accomplished, experienced, and confident. Yet there was something evasive about him that she couldn't put her finger on. This and his controlling nature made her start to question their relationship.

Megan's fifth and final delivery of the night was in an apartment building popular with college students. On her way out she noticed a sign on the corkboard in the lobby. It said, 'Women wanted for artful nude photos. Black and white pictures. Body shots only, no faces. Pays $300 cash'. She thought 'three hundred dollars for probably two hours of posing nude. That's a much better gig than delivering food.'

She made her way back to her apartment hoping to find Chad there waiting for her. He was not.

The next day was hot, very hot. Megan looked at the current balance in her bank account and shook her head. She was behind where she needed to be and with rent coming up she knew she was going to have to accept as many delivery jobs as she could. She put on a pair of running shorts and a tank top, accepted the first delivery that came through and headed out.

A few hours later she had a delivery on the top floor of a brownstone in an older part of the city. She wasn't familiar with the neighborhood and had never been to this particular building. When there wasn't an answer at the door, she was concerned she was in the wrong place. She confirmed the address and rang the bell again.

The door flew open. A short, thin, neatly dressed man with a camera around his neck and a look of utter fear stared at her.

Megan smiled and started to say, "Hi. I've got your..."

His expression changed to relief. He reached out, grabbed Megan by the upper arm, and pulled her into the apartment.

"Hey what are you doing?" Megan shrilled.

The small man took the food from her and placed it on a table next to the door. "I'm sorry, no time to explain but we need your clothes."

"My clothes?" she stammered.

"Yes, we're not going to hurt you, we just need the clothes, and we need them fast!" he quipped as he pulled her phone from her pocket and placed it with the food. Before she could respond he grabbed the elastic hem of her shorts and yanked them to her ankles.

Megan shrieked, "Are you crazy? Let me out of here!"

She took a step towards the door not realizing while doing so she was stepping out of her shorts. That's when she felt another pair of hands grab her wrists from behind. These hands were small and thin but strong enough to lock on like handcuffs. Her new assailant thrust Megan's arms high over her head. The man grabbed her tank top and pulled it over her long brown hair. She twisted herself free, but the unknown set of hands had taken a hold of the tank top.

Unable to control her momentum Megan fell back against the man. He wrapped one arm around her waist and cupped one hand over her mouth. He started repeating over and over, "It's ok, we're not going to hurt you, we just need your clothes."

That's when Megan noticed a naked blonde woman hastily putting on the clothes that were just discourteously removed. The blonde must've been the other set of hands and looked as scared as Megan felt.

The man holding her said, "Its ok. We just need your help; we're not going to hurt you."

He relaxed his hold enough for her to pull free and face him. "What the fuck is going on here?! And why the hell does that naked woman need my clothes?!"

Both Megan and the man turned their gaze to the woman who was now wearing Megan's shorts and tank top. She had opened a window and was exiting out the fire escape.

Next, she heard heavy footsteps on the wooden floor of the outside hallway. The nervousness the man had on his face was replaced with a genuine look of fear. "Quick," he urged. "Get into my studio, I'll explain everything." He took her by the arm and pulled her into an adjoining room.

Megan's brain raced to process what the man called his studio. It was a large room with one corner set up to look like an ornate bedroom, another had a large leather couch, and a third corner had a pull-down screen with a tropical image on it. The ceiling was almost all skylight, bathing the room with sunshine. Spread across the room was a variety of photo and computer equipment. She realized this guy must be running a photography business out of his apartment.

The man held his hands up and out and started explaining, "Look I'm sorry. My name's Mike, I'm a photographer and have a website. I do anonymous artful nudes. That woman is one of my models. She and her husband live on the first floor. He's the selfish, jealous type and refused to let her pose so she keeps it a secret. She came up here wearing nothing but a robe, we were just about to start when the door-cam alerted her phone that he was home early. He's probably on his way up here right now. She needed your clothes to make it look like she was out and not with me."

Mike's explanation ended with a loud banging on the door.

"Open this door! My wife is in there, isn't she? Open the door so I can kick both of your asses."

Mike's expression changed, "I've got an idea. If you get on the bed and act like you're posing for me. I'll tell him I'm with a model and he needs to leave."

Not waiting for a response, he made for the door. Megan thought she should head out the window the way the blonde had. But then she'd be running to her car in just her bra and panties. What this guy Mike was saying made sense, so she got on the bed with her back to the entrance.

She heard the sound of a scuffle and an exchange of shouting. She knew the angry husband was in the apartment when she heard his voice much clearer and much louder bellow, "Where's my wife?!"

"Your wife isn't here. I'm with a model. You have to leave."

"You're a liar. I know she's in here. That's your studio right. I'm sure she's in there."

Megan felt her stomach tense preparing for the pending confrontation.

She heard the man's footsteps and his heavy breathing then silence. The next voice she heard was Mike's, "See I told you it wasn't your wife."

Megan turned to look at the aggressor and received the shock of her life.

"Chad!!" She shrieked, staring into the face of her boyfriend.

"Megan?" Chad responded every bit as surprised as she was. "What. What. What are you doing?"

Fury filled Megan's body. She jumped off the bed, landing right in front of him. "You're married! You're fucking married?!"

"Um, um, um," he stuttered as he stepped backward.

"Um, um, um this asshole!" Megan shouted a split second before she punched him hard in the face. "Get out! Get out of here, get out of my life, and don't fucking come back. And if you ever bother this guy again, I'll tell your wife you've been screwing around on her. You got that mother fucker!"

"Yeah, I got it," he lamented, holding his bloody nose as he retreated from the apartment.

"Good! Now get the fuck out!"

Mike shut the door behind Chad and said, "Wow! That was pretty impressive. Way better than I could've done. I'm not sure how I can repay you."

Megan smiled, "I do."

"How?"

"You're the guy placing fliers in the college apartments. Offering $300 for tasteful nudes?"

"Yes."

"Hire me. If you've got the $300, I'll pose right now."

"Tell you what. If you're willing to become a regular, I'll pay you $400 per session."

"Deal."

Megan picked up her phone, tapped the screen a few times then held it to her ear. Seconds later she said, "Roger, you still need girls for the weekend? Good, count me in, both nights, full shifts. Yup, see you then."

She tapped the phone to end the call then unceremoniously popped off her bra and dropped her panties. She placed her hands on her hips, struck a pose, and said, "Let's get started."