Keiko is an average college student by day. But, by night she is Chastity, one of the favorite dancers in her strip club. Her life is as ordinary as it can be when your a part time stripper. Late nights dancing, early mornings preparing for tests, a...
I stared at myself in the well-lit mirror. The lighting was glorious, letting all of the little crystals on my bra glitter like diamonds. But the lighting also gave away the slightest imperfections in my makeup, making me feel a little less like a goddess. I glanced at the small clock on the wall. I still had a couple minutes. My makeup brushes smoothed out all the unblended lines. The dark, sparkling eye shadow made my almond eyes pop and the deep, red lipsticks made my lips look fuller than they were. Unfortunately, for my stereotypically small chest and unremarkable butt, it wasn't such an easy fix, but the extravagant bra and high-waisted panties helped.
"Come on, Chastity, you're on in one," the manager announced. "You look great so stop fussing." But when I looked at the other women, the ones with full busts and beautifully curled hair I didn't feel great. I felt like I shouldn't be going out onto that stage at all.
"Right, thank you," I replied.
My heels clicked as I made my way through the dressing room and onto the stage. As I walked I let my hips drop in a sexy motion, allowing myself to feel sultry and seductive before anyone else's eyes were on me. Keiko was elsewhere. Chastity had taken over. And there was something about my stage name and subtle appearance that drove men mad. Like the thought of this pure, sweet Asian girl grinding on them was just that much more of a turn on. I doubted any of them thought I was a virgin, but the fantasy was amazing.
Soon enough my name was called out and I made my way onto the lit stage. A wide smile stretched across my face and I took slow, delicate steps, allowing all the lights to bounce off my bra and accentuate my little waist. My hips rolled with each motion and men whistled out to me, crumpled bills already landing on the stage. I ran my hands through my silky, pin straight hair and shut my eyes like I was in bliss. The reality was that I had a job to do; I had to pay my bills somehow. And for me, this was the easiest way to do it. I was something of a natural performer.
But when I opened my eyes my attention was snagged on a man, jarring me slightly. He was someone I had not seen here before and someone who didn't fit the demographic. Instead of being in his forties and in a worn out suit he was young, wearing a snapback and clean jeans. The group of men he was sitting with match him. He was too far away for me to make out more of his features, but I could see the way his lips parted in disbelief. It was like he had never been to a strip club before.
And, after seeing him, it was like something came over me. Maybe I was happy to have someone young and handsome to work for, for once. Or maybe I absently thought that he was a part of some bachelor party and I wanted to give them all the show of their life. It didn't matter.
I started on the pole. It was always the easiest place for me to begin. I didn't have to make eye contact with anyone just yet or slide across the floor in a way that made me feel vulnerable if I wasn't ready. It was just me and a metal pole, just like the one I practiced on in the gym. I would perform the moves I knew by heart, like a soccer player going through the same drills. I would focus on my muscles and my form and allow myself to slip into the sexual being I was.
My arms supported my body as I showcased my legs. The middle aged men before me expressed their approval with more money tossed onto the stage. The pole was in between my shoulder blade and my hands were wrapped around it, just above my head. And in a slow, rhythmic fashion, I rolled my hips forward and backward. My back arched nicely with the movement, making my chest look bigger than it was. And as I continued to spin and twirl I began feeling like an utter goddess.
It could take me a while to shift into a stripper after spending the day as a college student but once the transformation happened it was incredible.
But when I opened my eyes, now smiling with honesty, I noticed that the young man in the back was tense. The shocked expression was gone and in its place was a hard grimace. I didn't understand; the men in front of me all looked delighted with my performance, like they never wanted it to end. Either way, I continued on, moving into different moves and patterns. Dollar bills continued to pile up on the stage and my grin turned into a coy smile. It might've been wrong for me to like it. But my mother had told me that if I could take money from men for nothing more than a work out in a bra then I was doing well for myself. And tonight I would be doing more than well for myself.
I stayed on the stage for a while longer. It was long enough to make me sweat and earn me some good money, but I had an early morning class tomorrow and a test I couldn't be sleepy for. When I felt like the men around my stage were at their prime I blew a kiss and departed, making sure to give them a good show on the way out.
But as I moved backstage the stage manager was waiting for me.
"Hey, lovely," he murmured, "I have a guy that wants a private dance from you."
"You know I prefer not to do private dances," I pouted, "Especially on school nights."
"I know, but he's willing to pay," he pressed.
"How much?"
"Triple your usual."
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