The Pastor's Girl

When they drove to it, I pleaded with the Pastor to let me keep serving him. But he told me to go in there and get a job dancing by any means necessary. He really emphasized that last part.

Since he made me dress like a slut, I was dressed in some tight gray leggings that went up my crack, no panties, a tight white top with no bra, and gym shoes. It was early so the place wasn't open. I had to knock. A tall muscular black guy opened the door. I asked if I could see about getting a job. He looked me up and down like a piece of meat and led me to the manager's office. I sat and waited.

A big white guy named Larry came out and greeted me. I introduced myself and asked if I could get a job dancing. He asked if I had experience and said that I had none on stage, but I had danced for my husband and his friends a bunch of times. Somehow, as soon as I said that, I knew it was going to bite me in the ass in the future.

Larry asked me to show him my moves so we went to one of the stages in the bar. I tried my best to dance on the pole, but ultimately he told me he wouldn't be able to hire me if I couldn't even do the basic stuff on a pole. I remembered the Pastor telling me, "by any means necessary."

"Well I have other talents," I stupidly said.

"Is that so?" he said. I knew I had made a mistake saying that.

"Yes," I dropped my gaze a little to look at him seductively. The Pastor had made me watch slut training videos for the last year and I knew now how to get men's attention.

"Ok, we'll see," he said as if not convinced. "Why don't you come with me to my office, baby."

I shivered at him calling me baby. But I followed him back to his office. When I walked in he started, "Look, we don't hire just anyone here. You have to be able to dance the pole. Luckily, there's a couple of girls here that can teach you well enough to get you started. But about these other talents," he looked at me pensively. "Tell me a little more about them? Because we also offer the motel to certain patrons that wish to get to know the girls a little better. Is that something you might be interested in? It's really good money."

"I'm not sure, I just want to dance and make a little extra money on the side cause my husband doesn't give me shit."

"Well, I guess you'll have to be on your way then," he said, getting up from his chair offering his hand to me.

"Wait, no, I need this job, please," I pleaded like a pathetic whore.

"Well, if you don't want the motel, then you'll have to go learn to dance then come back, sweetie, I'm sorry."

This was not going the way I had thought. I never imagined that I would be pleading to someone to give me a job as a stripper, but here I was begging Larry to accept me as stripper. Ultimately, I knew that if I went back out without the job, the Pastor was going to severely punish me.

"I'll do anything," I finally uttered.

"What was that?"

"I'll do anything," I repeated, totally ashamed of myself.

"Wow, you must be a desperate little thing. Ok, I think you know what you'll need to do," he said as he sat back down but pushed back away from his desk leaving enough room for a person to crawl between his legs. That's exactly where I ended up. I blew him away, determined to make an impression so he would give me a chance.

The entire time I was on my knees sucking Larry's dick, I kept thinking of the Pastor and how low I had fallen. I had just begged to be a prostitute. The stripper part would come later when I learned to work the pole. I was married. A failed marriage, sure, but a marriage nonetheless.

Usually, during sex acts, my mind would sort of wander and another part of me would take over. It was a survival mechanism that developed after a year of being the Pastor's sex slave. For some reason, that wasn't happening now. I was acutely aware of every taste that Larry had. I could feel myself gagging, when it used to be something I knew would happen, but never really felt.

My arm was getting tired. Larry made me work for it, but after about 15 minutes of sucking, he came down my throat and I swallowed every drop. Finally, he tucked himself back in his pants and told me I could start the following day if I liked. Girls started dancing at noon everyday and could come and go as they please, but if they worked, they had to put in 25 hours per week.

I nearly fainted at the thought of having to work as a stripper or prostitute for 25 hours a week. This was going to seriously alter her life from now on. As I walked out, the Pastor was waiting for me. He was very happy to hear that I got the job. He asked what I had to do and I told him everything that happened. It seemed to make him laugh a lot. Especially since I told him I had to beg.

As if I couldn't sink lower, on the drive back to town he made me give him road head until he came down my throat. I had just taken Larry's and now I had the Pastor's in my stomach. Then, he made me pull my leggings off and masturbate till I came. The orgasms I had when I was with the Pastor were always amazing. Masturbating just didn't feel the same, but I had learned to get myself off after a year in his office sessions.

Once we arrived at my home, the Pastor dropped me off and told me to watch some videos he was going to send me later. He'd often do this. The Pastor would send me hundreds of links to videos to watch. He'd even quiz me about them after just to make sure I would watch them in their entirety. The videos ranged from tutorials on makeup, fashion, and behavior, to the most elicit porn I'd ever seen. For example, not a single video ever showed a one-on-one encounter. All of the videos featured a woman with multiple men.

After a while, the videos started to have an effect on me. I started to act more like the girls in the videos the Pastor sent during my gangbangs. With him I acted like a sweet innocent, yet insatiable slut. I had learned that keeping him happy meant less discomfort for me. I now acted the part of a secret slut. But deep down, it was becoming clear that maybe this is what everyone saw in me when I was younger and that's why I was abused.

The feelings I was having about my new job were so fucked up. On one hand, I was disgusted with myself for offering myself up the way I did to Larry the manager of the strip joint. On the other hand, I was excited because I would be able to be away from the Pastor. It was hard work keeping him happy, but the bar didn't seem too bad.