The Doctor and the Stripper

I didn't really know the plan for the evening, just my part in it. I was to suck cock and be the perfect little slutty companion to whomever my Husband and Master gave me to for the evening. If I was lucky, I might even get to suck more than one cock, but again, that wasn't up to me.

It was a weekday evening, so I offered up a more casual outfit for Master's approval. A matching set of bra and underwear, black with subtle sparkly stripes, went under a simple black blouse and black trousers that showed off the round shape of my ass quite nicely. I was wearing my glasses, which always gave me just a hint of sexy librarian cuteness. My hair was being allowed to grow out a bit from its chic short cut to make way for a new style, so I simply brushed it and let it fall naturally. I finished the look with a hint of eye shadow and a soft pink lipstick that looked nearly natural. This wasn't about looking like a whore, necessarily, just about being a hot little slut on display.

I was ready by the time Master told me to be ready, and He drove us to a nearby hotel bar. He led me inside where we were met by a familiar face. It was the Doctor. I had been used by him before, and found the experience quite satisfying. I allowed myself an inner sigh of relief that I would not be dropped into a stranger's lap for the evening, but let nothing show through on my face other than pleasure at seeing him again.

Master and the Doctor and I were joined by a lady, and I was enjoined not to be too careless in referencing my past experiences with the Doctor. Naturally, I was curious as to why she was there and who she was, but I was too well trained to ask anything at that time. She was older than me, possibly even older than Master and the Doctor, so I didn't even think of her as a sexual object, let alone competition.

Though the conversation had its stilted and awkward moments, the four of us had a nice time chatting through a couple drinks. I enjoy trying new drinks, so I perused the menu before selecting something that caught my fancy. I mean, I could drink the same drink all the time, but then again, I could also suck the same cock all the time. Clearly, for me, variety is the way to go.

There's something delicious about sitting at a table with two men who know they are going to get their cocks sucked by me sooner or later and a woman who has no clue. I teased myself thinking about what I would be doing if she were not there, what the Doctor would have me doing. Having me touching his cock, maybe even more, right there in the bar.

I wondered if Master would be watching when I did finally get to suck his cock, and teased myself more with the thought of how much I love an audience. Knowing that while I suck one man's cock, others are watching me and wanting that lovely little mouth on their cocks raises me up to new heights of arousal and desire. I suck cock better when I feel that I am on display and showing off.

The Doctor finally got rid of the old woman by pretending there were dinner reservations to meet. So as he led her out the door, Master and I made sure to finish off my last drink before he got back to the table. While there actually were no reservations, both the Doctor and I were quite hungry, for food as well as fucking, so the time to part was upon us.

Master shook hands with the Doctor before grabbing me by the arm and wrenching me close to Him. The rough treatment was an excellent little shot of foreplay for my body, though I took His touch seriously.

"He is to be addressed as 'Sir' tonight. Understand, slut?" Master asked.

"Yes, Master," I replied. I had no objections to using such a title with the Doctor. He was, after all, Man, and therefore above me and deserving of respect.

The Doctor had me precede him up the stairs to the hotel room, at times touching my waist or hips as I moved seductively up them to the second floor. He found his room and opened it, allowing me through first in a very gentlemanly fashion though the gallantry was unnecessary. I walked in and immediately banged my shin on the low bed frame.

"Ow, oops," I said, stumbling over away from the bed to lay my coat on a chair.

"May I please use the potty, Sir?" I asked, in my best sincere-little-girl-needs-to-pee voice.

"You've been a good girl so far tonight, so yes, you may. After I'm done," replied the Doctor, after a moment's pause in which I was mentally begging him to answer quickly. I smiled and nodded and waited as patiently as I could before he finished in the toilet.

Then I took the few steps to the bathroom and, intentionally leaving the door open, pulled down my pants and released my bladder. He came in to watch. I was going as fast as I could, so as not to be an imposition on his time with me, but he solved that issue by taking out his cock and letting me suckle at it as I finished.

Pulling back to let me clean up, he shoved me against the wall of the bathroom as soon as I had stood. My pants around my ankles felt deliciously like a hobble, and I stood and wriggled against him as he pressed his cock to my rear. Just a teasing little pass, quickly done, leaving me aching for more. I hoped he would fuck my ass later. I knew he wanted a blow job first, but he had Master's leave to use my ass. I had even put some shortening as lube up my asshole before leaving for the bar.

When he had before considered fucking my ass, I hadn't been pre-lubed and the lotion at the hotel turned out to contain mint. Mint is not a good ingredient for lube, at least not anally. Not that that would stop me, little masochist that I am, but I hesitate to introduce such pains to any Man's cock and balls.

I was hoping that with a little forethought on my part, anal penetration could occur naturally and smoothly. Still, it wasn't my part to suggest such a thing. I was there to be whatever he wanted me to be, not to push my own agenda of getting my ass fucked, and, if I was very good, his cum inside me.

The Doctor led me over to the bed and allowed me to begin sucking his cock. I imagine that it might get difficult, eventually, to remember all the little things particular Men like done with their Cocks, but for the moment I was able to recall the particulars of most of my regulars; how the Doctor liked my tongue to rub over a certain spot, just so, or to have it sucked. I took him down my throat as he got harder, but mostly I played over that spot that he particularly enjoyed.

"I like your glasses," he told me. "I want to cum on them, not in your mouth."

I nodded my assent, my mouth being too full to speak a reply at the time. I hoped to be able to satisfy that desire for him, but I didn't know if I would be able to pull myself back as he came. It's so contrary to my nature not to swallow cum. When his breathing began to become labored and irregular, I knew to push myself in order to encourage his orgasm. I did try to pull back, but my timing was off. I didn't want to leave him with no orgasm; I had to be certain that he was cumming before I moved my mouth from his cock.

I did, however, have enough presence of mind to squeeze his cock with my hands, milking his cum onto my glasses for him. I got some smears onto the lenses and displayed myself to him. He seemed to have forgotten his desire once the orgasm was imminent, but he also seemed pleased that I hadn't.

"Where's a good place to eat around here, slut?" he asked me as I licked my glasses clean.

"The closest place is probably the Redneck Diner," I replied, once I had made certain all his cum had gotten down my throat. "May I rinse these off now?" I asked of my glasses. My spit had not improved the cleanliness of the lenses. He allowed me to clean them and then we walked to the diner.

It wasn't necessarily the nicest place to go eat, and it was a family friendly environment, cutting our conversation topics a little bit, and certainly influencing the volume at which we conversed. I think it entertains the Doctor that I can hold my own in a conversation, though, of course, my youth leaves me with less experience to draw upon. I tend to have strong opinions, but am easily swayed by logical argument. Though, the easier my stance is to sway, the more I'll question the new one.

The food was tasty, and I appreciated there being a small burger available so I could finish my burger and still eat some of the delicious sweet potato fries. We both had soft drinks during dinner, though I had a desire for something stronger by the end of the meal, thanks to various squabbling kids and squalling parents. I am all about banning young children from nice restaurants, but this wasn't one of those so I endured.

We didn't linger over a dessert or coffee. We were on a different mission. Despite the fact that there was a perfectly good gentlemen's club practically across the street from where we had eaten, we walked several blocks to a different club. I won't write "strip club" because to me, that would mean naked girls. I wasn't even sure where the nearest place to see naked girls was in this town, but I knew there weren't any within walking distance. The club we skipped was skipped because of being a particularly smoky place the last time I had been there, and the Doctor, naturally, was not so much into smoke.

My hopes that the other club would not be smoky were dashed when walked in to the aroma of nicotine and tar, but we were able to sit on an upper level, with an excellent view of the dance floor and decent ventilation. The Doctor ordered a beer, and I ordered the same, having been given no instructions otherwise. We settled down, watching the dancers in their ultra-platform heels gyrate on the dance floor in bikinis.

The first few girls that went up were only marginally interesting to me. I like a girl shaped rather like me, curvy without being too plump, and baby's got to have back. None of that extended thigh thing really does for me, it has to have shape, distinction and just a little heft to it. Too much heft and they tend to lose their roundness and fullness though. The Doctor wanted me to find a girl that I liked so that we could get a dance, or more specifically, so he could watch me get a dance as well as getting one himself.

Just as I had decided that one blonde with small tits, and a small, but decently defined, ass would do well enough, a new dancer was announced. I avidly drank in the sight of her curvy, strong, flexible body as she stepped up, dancing to music that I adored, and won the contest for the Doctor's money.

But before we could commission a private dance, we had to share her with everyone else. I won't say the club was crowded; it was, after all, a Tuesday night. However, there were a number of men populating the butt sniffer rail as well as several of the tables surrounding the main stage. They didn't seem any more excited to see this new girl, Dani, than they had been to see the skinnier or plumper girls. Not nearly as excited as I was, or as the Doctor was. Though the Doctor may have been excited more for my being excited than for himself. I know he appreciated the other dancers, as my hand had been spending most of the time since we got settled wrapped around his oozing cock.

Not only was this girl pretty to me, but the choices she made of music to dance to were totally up my alley, as well as being more unusual songs. They weren't the standard pop or metal songs that the other girls were having played. That's the first thing that caught my attention, aside from her hot body of course, but it was Dani's display of strength and flexibility that got me to asking the Doctor for some dollar bills so that I could go to the rail and put on a show.

Being the only good looking female in the gentleman's club who wasn't working there, I drew some attention myself as I made my way to the area of the rail that faced the Doctor so he could see me and see her as she danced with me. He had sent me down with five dollar bills. I hastily unbuttoned more of my blouse and stuffed some of the bills in my bra cups. I would lead with some of the money and then let her know about the rest. I didn't know at the time how well it would turn out, but I had planned from the start to make a show of it, to help her out as she helped me out, if she wanted to. I figured a little hot girl on girl action would get her more money and get me a little hot girl on girl action. Surely that's fair trade?

I had a bit of an up close show waiting for her to be done dancing to a man who has offered his money before I got down there. That's when the first song ended and I really fell in love with her as one of my favorite songs from high school pounded out of the speakers and she sinuously made her way over to me and my offering.

She took the bills like a flower in her hand and brought them to her mouth, staring at me smolderingly. With a puff of air the bills fell disappointingly flat to the stage.

"Those were supposed to go up in the air," she explained with a cute pout. I nodded. My shirt was down to two buttons at the very bottom, showing off my cute little black bra. As she leaned in close I told her about the additional bills in the cups. She took her time though in getting to them.

I had, once before, done this. Gone up to the rail and offered money to a stripper to get a little dance time. I had even gotten a private dance from the girl, as I planned to do with this one. But the last one, I now believe, was not into girls and didn't care that pretending would get her more money. This girl, this Dani, was different. Whether or not she was into girls in a sexual way, she knew well enough to fake it. Though I don't think she was faking it. I think she enjoyed putting on a show with me, using me as a prop to entice the money-waving men.

I certainly enjoyed helping her put on a show.

"Move your chair back and lean forward," she told me in a low voice. I felt quite delicious as I obeyed. To submit myself to this experience was delightful, because she was the one in control. She ordered me around, played with me, and the Doctor paid for my privilege. I felt so free and wanton and slutty as I prepared myself. Along with the standard gyrations and moves that she performed for the men, I got to feel her lips graze my breasts as she retrieved the dollar bills hidden in the cups of my bra. I got to smell her hair and skin, and feel her hands touching me teasingly. As she bade me to stand, I got to feel the horny stares from the men around the rail, arching my back and offering myself up to her whims.

When she finished with me, I felt flushed with triumph and desire. I wanted her to dance for me privately. I wanted the Doctor to get his money's worth and see her dance using me as a living prop. I walked back to the Doctor, conscious of the men staring at me intensely, making way for my path back to my table, but also desiring to stop me, take me.

We waited though a couple more songs for her to finish her set so we could claim her, but the set went on and on.

"Would you like to go down there again?" the Doctor asked me as my hand stroked his cock in slow, yet eager, strokes.

"Yes," I replied. I wanted to go down there again and get another dance, but mostly I wanted to be part of the show. How I wanted the confidence to go and do what that stripper did. To be able to fearlessly fling myself about a polished dance floor wearing next to nothing and shamelessly tease men for money would be electrifying. Yet, it would put me in such a position of power; I don't think I could handle it very well. No, I'm best as the prop for the dancer bold enough to use me well, as Dani did.

When I went back down to the same spot, facing the Doctor, I passed by a number of men at the rail. Now that they knew what I was there for, they gave me eager and hungry eyes as I passed by them to sit demurely at the rail, shirt half-unbuttoned in anticipation.

That's when I got my surprise.

My two dollars set up as offering to the stripper on the rail in front of me suddenly became three when one of the butt rail sniffers passed me a dollar to add to my stack. Then another one followed suit and I had four dollars in front of me. I was both gratified and amazed. Here I was, sitting at the edge of a dance floor waiting to buy time and attention from a sexy woman, and I was being paid to do it. Not just by the Doctor, but by random men that I had not even met. I never learned their names; I don't remember their faces. They were just men, paying me to be a sex object for a woman to play with for their entertainment. It was incredible. I realized I could probably go to this bar again and again and hardly spend my own money, at least on strippers. The excitement that this stripper could generate with me was intensely sexual and apparently worth paying for.

I was happy to add their dollars to the pile, but even so I had to wait until she had attended to the other paying customers before she came back to me, with her sweetly scented brown hair and glitter powdered skin. I was certain some of that glitter rubbed off onto the teasing mounds of my breasts that showed above the demi cups of my bra. She had me stand this time, and I arched my back, offering her the dollars hidden in my bra. I felt the eyes of the men in the bar unable to tear themselves away from our show, hungering for more even as she gently withdrew.

"My friend and I would like a dance," I told her after I had sat back down, but before she left me completely.

"Who's your friend?" she asked in return. I pointed out the Doctor, and she gave him an appraising look. After checking him out, she agreed to my request, a relief since I would have had to ask someone else had she said no, or risk disappointing the Doctor and his desires for me that night. Disappoint the Doctor and I would disappoint Master. Disappoint Master... that I couldn't even consider as a possibility.

I went back to where the Doctor sat, avoiding the entreating glances and waving hands of the men at the rail.

"When she's done with her set and stuff she'll come over and see us."

"Good girl," he told me, taking my hand gently to his hard, slick cock under the table.

While we waited for Dani to finish her little post-dance girly things, the Doctor walked off to find the ATM and use the restroom. With him gone, I noticed that the rail men were trying to catch my eye by waving bills not at the stripper now commanding the dance floor, but at me. The rail men wanted me to come down and get a dance from the stripper while they watched. A girl dancing with another girl was so much better than a girl dancing for them. Especially when both girls were attractive and enthusiastic.

This hadn't happened the last time I had gone to a strip club, which is probably a good reason not to go to that particular club again. It was such an incredible feeling to have men wanting to pay me to do what I wanted to do anyway.

She came by our table after a few songs from the next dancer had passed. There was a little chatting, as we discussed whether she would dance for us together or separately and who would watch what, and, of course, how much it would all cost the good Doctor. As she led us to the alcove where we would get our dance, I was nearly shaking with anticipation. If the dances she had given me at the rail had been good, how much better might it be as a private show?

The Doctor had her dance for me first. I sat on a bench against the wall as the Doctor sat on a stool at the side of the small curtained room. Then she began.

The room was dim, and I hardly remember all the things that she did as she gyrated around me, giving teasing glimpses of breast and leg. She was in complete control, allowing me to feel wanton and daring. At one point she told me to brace myself, and then she used my legs as handles to flip herself upside down into my lap. I was unprepared for the bench to be so unsteady, but we didn't fall. Instead I was treated to a view between her legs obscured only by a flimsy piece of cloth. I couldn't help but admire her athleticism as well as her sexiness.