The Theft of Our Lives 15

Kerri had taken ballet lessons when she was younger, and a modern jazz dance class her first year at college. She was also highly nimble on the volleyball court, adept at chasing down balls and leaping to spike at the net.

'How difficult could working a pole be?' she decided, assuming as a superior athlete she'd conquer the physical challenge just as she had any other she'd ever attempted.

Only a few months ago, the very idea of taking off her clothes on stage in front of a room of leering men was absolutely unthinkable. Now, although she didn't want to strip, this couldn't be any worse than the many other degrading acts she'd performed for unknown men.

"Okay, I'll do it," Kerri announced as if she had a real choice, wiping away the last of her tears, and happy for the challenge clearing her head of her defeat and despair at her new 'profession.'

"Sehr gut, Ms. Tyler, but remember, these men have money. If you want to earn it, perform well, and stretch out the show, because you're not wearing much to take off," Ernst advised, noting her sparse attire, and kindly offering her a long black scarf as a seductive prop, as well as one more item to remove.

"Yeah, right, thank you," our smart coed agreed, starting to the stage where the lights began to flicker signaling the remaining members a performance was about to take place.

*****************

Even before she reached the stage, chair legs scraped the floor turning in its direction, seats nearby filled, and bumping, grinding disco music started in sync to the flashing lights. A single spotlight targeted the pole as our daughter nervously entered, squinting with the bright light but nonetheless sensing all eyes glued to her body on two-foot-high stage.

"Gentlemen, your attention, please," Ernst called, assembling the crowd as the music died for a moment.

"Tonight, I am pleased to introduce your stripper, Ms. Kerri Tyler, a local college girl of 19-years-old, and about to turn 20 next week, I'm told," Ernst announced, mimicking a Master of Ceremonies at a Berlin cabaret.

"So young and fresh, our pretty bargirl made her unsuccessful foray tonight as a professional whore," he added pitifully. "Failing at that, she will now debut on the pole, marketing her availability by exhibiting her wholesome beauty, and of course, her stunning body, hoping to inspire a last client to purchase her services this evening."

Kerri shrunk with embarrassment at his use of her full name, her bio, and the reference to her poor attempt at whoring herself, preferring anonymity while realizing the men didn't give a shit who she was so long as she got naked for their amusement and entertainment.

Blushing and shifting uncomfortably on her heels, adding to her appeal as an innocent tossed into a lurid world of corrupt sex and debauchery, our modest daughter flushed at the attention when the room broke into applause, along with a cacophony of ribald and bawdy catcalls.

"Show us what you got, ginger, especially those great knockers," a voice yelled, alluding to her auburn locks, along with her prominent chest.

"That's a grown-up body for such an angelic piece of ass," another guy followed.

"Yeah, make it good, sweet cheeks, and I'll buy a piece," shouted a third man, the promise of future business illusory but giving her hope she might make her goal for the evening after all.

Kerri's eyes watered at the derogation, marginalizing our proud youngster to merely a desirable commodity of delectable flesh for the men's use and consumption, uncaring about her as a person and reducing her worth to a single asset of value - her youthful hardbody featuring big firm tits and long graceful limbs simply built for sex.

As the music cranked up, in uncomfortably high heels Kerri clumsily began her dance, wrapping the scarf around her neck, then seductively pulling if off one grip at a time, draping and dragging the silky fabric over her marvelous curves in a performance akin to Salomé she'd seen in an old movie.

Shimmying her hips and shaking her braless breasts provocatively, our frazzled daughter did everything she could imagine stretching the dance out as long as possible, running the scarf between her legs and around her waist enticingly, hoping to stimulate the men and solicit their offers for the use of her body sexually.

"C'mon, sweetheart, enough with the prelims, show us some skin," an impatient voice insisted, even as a few $5 and $10 bills landed on the stage, encouraging her onward.

"Yeah, we wanna see those big tits," a second guy added.

Wisely recognizing a stripper can only tease for so long before the audience gets restless, Kerri ran the scarf across her chest one final time, tossing it in the air to the back of the stage and ready for the next act.

Turning her back to the crowd, our long-stemmed rose spread her legs beyond shoulder width, bending at the waist extending her hands to her slender ankles, with the tops of her alabaster thighs exposed above the wide band of her black stockings and the short hem of her sparkling dress raising to the bottom her muscular ass cheeks.

Who knows if it was intended as such, but it was a perfect advertisement to any man desiring to take her treasured backdoor, displaying the potential of her splendid posterior as a cushion for a randy hump in the rump of our vibrant, able-bodied coed.

Sinewy and toned, Kerri's elegant arms elevated as wings to her sides, bent at the elbows with her hands traveling to the metal catch joining the halter straps as the only device holding the top of the slinky dress together.

'Click,' and the latch was undone, with Kerri ever so slowly rising to full stature once more, turning deliberately and facing her audience in the darkened room with the spotlight beaming on her trim body as the centerpiece of the show.

The end of a strap between the fingers of each hand, our remarkably capable temptress stretched the black panels above her shoulders, swaying her torso gracefully, giving a deliberate jostle to the giant pale mounds hiding behind the thin cloth, and taunting the men with true stripper flair.

"Ohhh, c'mon honey, show us the goods," some fellow complained good-naturedly, understanding the game, and playing along by prompting the action.

"Damn, she's good," Ernst observed from his place to the side of the stage, thinking Nate's newest showpiece a natural despite her age and inexperience, just as most men found true of her blowjob skills when plying that talent.

The sharp gaze in Kerri's green eyes was bewitching and otherworldly, as if possessed by a burlesque queen from Vaudeville, manipulating the gawking men with the promise of her incomparable body, and supremely knowing it in a rare moment of her control.

"Ready guys?" she shouted saucily over the music, coquettishly feigning lowering the left strap and then right not once, but twice, to just above her pink nipples, before raising it high again.

"Awwhhh, c'mon, bitch," another eager voice rose, salivating and a bit irritated, exactly as she wanted them.

"Ooops!" Kerri peeped girlishly, abruptly dropping the straps simultaneously to her waist revealing the glorious peaks of her large, perfect, and extraordinary D-cup tits for the excited viewing they anxiously awaited.

"Holy fucking shit!" one guy groaned.

"Jeeez, now, that's what I'm talkin' about," another cheered enthusiastically.

"What a set of knockers!" a voice straining with ardor echoed. "Where were you when I was in college, honey?"

Kerri smiled loftily hearing these wealthy, sophisticated business titans lose their vaunted civility and decorum at the mere sight of a pretty college girl's big, bodacious jugs, knowing she caused it and unexpectedly getting a charge out that fact when hesitantly stepping onto the stage moments ago.

Truly blessed, Kerri's hefty tits weren't just any pair of youthful breasts, large and set remarkably uplifted by her superior musculature, carriage, and anatomy, with the heavy globes defying gravity and jiggling invitingly with every movement.

Cherry pink, her areolas crinkled sublimely responding to the thrill of the men's adulation, with the tightly knotted morsels at their center an invitation for zealous gnawing and suckling, while the tops of the mountainous pair were adorably dotted with a smattering of characteristic freckles denoting her fair skin.

Telling her mother and me about the performance later through shameful tears, I sat listening with my prick tight in my cage without a doubt that every man in the Club regretted not tapping our blossoming flower earlier in the evening and were more than willing to bust open their wallets to make up for that error as Kerri stripped for their pleasure.

On stage, employing performance tricks seen on a number of TV shows, Kerri shimmied, waggled, bobbled, and even mashed her malleable breasts together over several minutes, gyrating her narrow hips aggressively, and effectively shaking her 'money maker' in doing what strippers do to make a buck.

More bills were tossed to the stage - tens and twenties, but nothing nearly sufficient to put her over her $6,000 goal, and astutely, as the cheers turned to demands for more, Kerri knew it was time to move forward.

Gripping the metal pole centering the stage and swinging spectacularly around, her feet left the ground displaying her impressive muscular in her arms, back, and legs, while sending the bottom of her dress flying, exposing her tiny black silk panties before she skillfully landed on her heels.

As if a dismount in gymnastics, she proudly raised her arms to the ceiling in triumph, boldly projecting her bounding jugs forward in a tremendous exhibition of showmanship.

"Awesome, babe, let's see you do the splits," someone called, interested in her physical prowess only to the extent it exposed more of her yet to be revealed intimate places.

Unzipping the side of her dress, our teasing vamp adroitly slipped it down, and then the fabric with it, settling in a clump at her feet. Playfully flipping the garment into the air over her head, her accurate kick landed the glimmering dress sweetly behind the stage and remarkably near the discarded scarf.

A magnificent 5'10" exemplar of pure femininity, Kerri stood a statuesque six feet-plus in her shiny black heels, with her straight auburn sports cut gleaming under the spotlight, and her clipped bangs giving her a cutesy look belying her nearly twenty years of age.

Almost totally naked, our vibrant daughter presented herself to the boisterous men in only sheer stockings and a pair of tiny bikini panties dipping perilously low over her curved mound and rising high over her slight hips, creating an intoxicating package of youth and beauty possessed by only the most fortunate women.

Encouraged by the cheers, Kerri was in her element, performing for an exhilarated crowd the same as at a volleyball match, with her adrenaline flowing as the music pumped up a notch conveniently timed with the rise in the action.

Taking the bait, Kerri athletically pranced onstage back and forth, hands on hips, twerking her ass at the clamoring crowd, and bending widespread touching her toes giving a crotch shot for the ages, with the narrow panel of the thin black silk panty the only thing between her prized pussy and their hungry eyes.

Charged and feeling the music, Kerri started really working the pole, spinning around by her hands, wrapping her knee around it, climbing the length, and hooking her legs around the metal before bending backward suspended upside down with her fleshy tits sloping towards the floor and palms flat on the surface.

Inspired by the men's rowdy response to this last move, Kerri dismounted by rolling from a handstand onto her back and flying into the front row, caught by the happy members protecting her from harm, at least, from the wood floor.

Groping hands grasped her arms, legs, ass, and most popularly, her dense breasts, squeezing the full melons joyously, and pinching or twisting the nipples firmly in her energy-charged state. An anonymous palm even ran between her sprawled legs, cupping her panty-clad pussy in an overly familiar exploration giving her a fearful start.

"Get the bitch back at it," one of the guys urged, inadvertently coming to her rescue as the collective group thrust Kerri back to the stage accompanied by a chant for more.

"Panties, panties, panties," the refrain echoed in the room, demanding our tantalizing coed strip her last concealing piece of lingerie, with others wanting more lewd dancing.

"Back on the pole. Stretch those hot legs, babe," they roused, pleading for our flexible jockette, anxious for the obscene spectacle of her long, lithe legs extended and pretzeled in the most compromising positions.

Naturally limber and loose with alcohol, Kerri complied without resistance, ready to take it to another level after coming this far and close to the finish line.

Skimming her scanty panty down her legs with a dramatic tug, our sweet beauty's auburn bush came into view satisfying the increasingly demanding crowd, then flicking the cloth into the darkness of the room as a trophy for some lucky guy.

With a swirl of her foot for a theatrical flourish, Kerri then impressively kicked her right foot up, up, up the tall metal pole, extending the ductile limb higher and higher until effectively performing an upward split, and in doing so, setting her cum-soiled pink twat on open display.

Twice-fucked, Kerri's puffy labia appeared indecently parted, ruffled, and swollen - a far cry from the delicate slit usually found by men or women exploring her delectable cunt in its pristine state.

Brightly shining, the spotlight hid nothing, and the residual moisture of Jabal and Junior's combined jism glistened in the open fissure, unnoticed by Kerri bending and twisting her body ballerina-like, highlighting her elegant legs, willowy torso, and jaw-dropping tits to their best advantage.

Returning to stand proudly upright, our impressive coed undertook a similar split on the stage floor, setting her spread pussy mere feet from the beaming eyes of the eager spectators, then performing a nimble turn reversing the position, and leaning forward prostrate to the stage gloriously presenting her ripe ass to the crowd.

Intriguingly flexing her glutes and parting her toned cheeks with a seductive glance over her right shoulder, everyone's attention fell upon the jeweled butt plug filling her very marketable rectum, and Ernst thought it the opportune time to interrupt the show with an offer designed to start a bidding war after an evening of Kerri coming up short.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, we're nearing the end of our lovely whore's appeal for your business, so to spur the action, the starting bid for Ms. Tyler's ass is now discounted to $1,500," he declared, never discussing the offer with our unknowing daughter, and making it clear he controlled the action despite Kerri having the men eating out of her hand.

"As an added bonus, you will enjoy the honor of removing her fashionable plug prior to the pleasure of reaming her snug little bunghole right here on stage," the German master of ceremonies continued, providing the egregious perk to his novice hooker's absolute shock and discontent.

"YEE-HAHHH!!!" a raucous cheer rose as the audience celebrated the unexpected proposal.

"$1,500!" a deep voice roared from the back of the dark room, followed by an admonition. "Ready to work that ass, girl? I'm comin' for ya."

"We have a minimum bid. Anyone else?" Ernst encouraged, waving his hands up trying to raise the amount.

Kerri was stunned finding herself bid on as a luscious commodity, stopping momentarily and simply standing naked on the stage. As if whoring herself all night wasn't bad enough, now the privilege of fucking her ass was on private auction, with the added humiliation of the winner taking it on stage in front of the cheering audience.

"Keep dancing, whore! The bidding is not over yet," the bartender chided sternly, shooting Kerri a nasty look.

Chagrined and humbled by the disturbing offer, our flustered daughter slowly began a less enthusiastic dance, moving slowly and out of time to the music, questioning how in the world this was happening and reeling from the affront to her dignity and self-respect.

"I'll go to $1,750," another man called, raising the ante but still beneath her earlier asking price.

"$1,800," a competitor countered.

Despairing, Kerri listened as she danced, every bit as enticing as ever, but internally in emotional turmoil, with her body, and more specifically, her asshole, selling to the highest bidder.

"Do I hear $2,000?" Ernst called in his thick German accent, trilling for one more bid bringing our chastened coed to full price in achieving her goal for the night.

The music continued its heavy beat, and the audience kept up its whoops and hollers, with the rich, respectable men agitated and losing their veneer of civility under the influence of the prurient atmosphere, but silence ensued for any further bids.

"Sold for $1,800!" the bartender announced, waving the winner to the stage, then turning to Kerri with a message only for her ears.

"Best I could do, Liebchen, but you can make up the shortfall later," he said unnervingly, knowing her total stood at $200 short of her $6,000 goal, including her mandatory tip to him.

Out of the darkness of the assembled spectators ready to witness our winsome angel's defilement on the stage before their dazzled eyes, a tall, lanky man in his late 30's wearing a bolo tie and cowboy hat strode to the front of the room, rugged but not especially handsome with a mottled face and cruel expression.

"$1,800, on the nose, and a helluva bargain for this filly," he drawled, peeling off a stack of bills from a rhinestone money clip, and eyeing his purchase with the zealous look of a rodeo rider ready to tame a bucking bronco.

Stepping onto the stage, the rangy heir to an oil fortune grasped Kerri by the hand, not harshly, but assuming command, his deep blue eyes roaming up and down her body with a huge shit-eating grin breaking out on his face, clearly liking what he saw.

"I'm Bill, and you don't need to know my last name, but damn, girl, you are one fine looking mount," he crowed, pausing his gaze on Kerri's white mountains of tit-flesh, then down to her neatly trimmed auburn landing strip, before settling on her fresh, freckled face.

"And a heckuva beauty too, with such a pretty mouth," Bill declared, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"T-thank you," our benumbed coed stammered out of habit, without consideration for the true nature of his praise.

"It ain't part of the deal, darlin', but you might find it to your benefit if you wet my Johnson before we get started," the cowboy suggested, pressing on her shoulder enforcing his will, with Kerri submissively allowing him to take control.

The guy was at least 6'7", stately but thin, towering over our tall daughter in a rare instance of her feeling small.

Finding her face at crotch level, she unzipped and extracted a long, narrow tube of cock meat, fearing its potential length in her rectum, but hopeful it wasn't too thick when fully erect after applying some gentle sucking bringing it to life.

"Ah, that's it, sweetheart, get it hard, and for your sake, get it nice and wet. It goes a lot easier that way," Bill sighed, watching anxiously as his whore's pretty lips surrounded his cockhead and consumed the instantly growing shaft.

On her knees, suffering the humiliation of sucking a stranger's cock before a chortling group of unknown onlookers, Kerri's sense of relief rose as it swelled in her mouth, estimating Bill was an uncomfortable 8" in length, but mercifully slender in girth, making for a difficult but not impossible task taking his full measure in her backdoor.