Chapter 3: Lilly's date continues
The cool night air hit me like a slap in the face as I was unceremoniously ejected from the restaurant, my dress still hiked up around my waist, my breasts on full display. The manager, a stern-faced woman with a tight bun and an even tighter expression, had been none too pleased with my little performance, and she had made sure that everyone in the restaurant knew it.
"Get out," she had hissed, her voice low and angry.
"And don't you dare come back here again, you little slut."
The words had stung, but I had taken them in stride, my head held high as I gathered my things, including the used condom full of cum and made my way towards the door. I could feel the eyes of the restaurant on me, their gazes burning into my skin as I walked, my dress still hiked up around my waist, my breasts on full display.
But I refused to let it show. I had to maintain my composure, to keep up the act of the confident, willing participant in this game of humiliation and degradation.
"Can't this little slut anywhere" MisognysticNightmare gleefully announced as he documented her departure on his phone. "Oh wait, I know the perfect place. Come on, Lilly, we're going to show you what it's like to be a real slut."
I followed him out of the restaurant, my dignity left in tatters on the floor. He led me down the bustling city street, past the curious glances of passersby, to a seedy-looking building with a neon sign flashing "VIP Gentlemen's Club." I hesitated at the door, suddenly feeling a bout of nerves.
"Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now, Lilly," he sneered, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside.
"You were so eager to show off your body earlier. What's changed?"
I bit my lip, trying to hide my nervousness. "Nothing, Sir. I just... I've never been to a place like this before."
He laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Well, it's about time you got some real-world experience, don't you think? Now come on, let's find a table."
The club was dimly lit, the air thick with smoke and the scent of cheap perfume.
The stage was in the center of the room, surrounded by tables filled with men of all ages, their eyes glued to the scantily clad women dancing on stage. The music was loud, a pulsing beat that seemed to vibrate through my very bones.
MisogynistNightmare led me to a table near the front, close enough to the stage that I could feel the heat of the spotlights. He sat down, his eyes never leaving the dancers, and motioned for me to sit next to him.
"So, what do you think, Lilly?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the music.
"Not quite as classy as the restaurant, is it?"
I shook my head, my eyes wide as I took in the scene around me. "No, Sir. It's... different."
He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. "Different is good, Lilly. Different is what you need. Now, watch the girls. Tell me what you see."
I turned my attention to the stage, where a group of women in various states of undress were dancing, their bodies moving in time with the music. I saw the way they gyrated, their hips swaying, their breasts bouncing.
They were confident, at ease with their bodies, and I felt a pang of envy. I had never been comfortable with my sexuality, never been able to flaunt it like they did. MisogynistNightmare seemed to sense my thoughts, his voice cutting through my reflections.
"What do you think, Lilly? Do you think you could do that? Dance like that, with all eyes on you? They love the attention. But there's a big difference between them and you, isn't there? They chose to be here, you are here because it pleases me."
His voice was cold, his eyes never leaving the stage. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, his words striking a chord within me. He was right, I was here because he wanted me to be, because I craved his approval, his dominance.
"But enough about them," he continued, turning to face me, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Let's talk about you. You've been such a good little slut tonight, haven't you? Showing off your body, letting those men look at you, touch you. How does it make you feel, Lilly?"
I hesitated, searching for the right words.
"It's... complicated, Sir. Part of me feels dirty, humiliated. But another part... another part finds it exciting. The way those men looked at me, the way they wanted me... it made me feel powerful, in a way."
MisogynistNightmare let out a low, satisfied chuckle. "Haha your stupidity never ceases to amaze me. Glad you can somehow find getting kicked out of a restaurant because you were fingering yourself in front of a table of strangers powerful. Either way, I don't care. What matters is that I find pleasure in your humiliation. That's what should matter to you too." His eyes scanned the room, landing on a group of rough-looking men huddled around a pool table. "See those guys over there? They're here for a good time, just like us. And their night is about to get better."
"Here's what I want you to do. First, since you felt so powerful, I want you to pull that dress down again, exposing your tits. Then you're going to walk over there and offer to buy them a round of drinks if they'll take your picture." He smirked, knowing full well I wouldn't refuse. I knew I had to trust him, to follow his instructions without question. I stood up, my hands shaking slightly as I reached for the hem of my dress. I pulled it down, exposing my breasts to the entirety of the club. I could feel the eyes of every man in the room on me, their gazes burning into my skin. I fought the urge to cover myself, to hide my nudity, and instead stood tall, my chin held high.
I could feel the weight of the plug still nestled between my cheeks, a constant reminder of my submission. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come, and then I began to walk, my heels clicking on the sticky floor as I made my way towards the group of men. I could hear their low whistles, their murmurs of appreciation, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
I stopped in front of them, my heart pounding in my chest, and forced myself to meet their gazes.
"Hi there," I said, my voice steady despite the nerves churning in my stomach. "I was wondering if I could buy you gentlemen a round of drinks."
One of them, a burly man with a thick beard and a leather vest, looked me up and down, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, ain't you a sight," he drawled.
"What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this, and offering to buy us drinks, no less?"
"I'm just here to have a good time," I said, flashing them a smile. "And I thought maybe you gentlemen would like to join me."
The man chuckled, his eyes never leaving my exposed breasts. "Oh, we'd love to, sweetheart.
But first, show us what you've got," another man said, his eyes gleaming with lust. "Dance for us."
I hesitated, looking back at MisogynistNightmare for guidance. He nodded, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "Go on, Lilly. Show them what you've learned."
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. I had never danced like this before, never put on a show for strangers. But I had to trust him, to follow his instructions without question. I closed my eyes, letting the music wash over me, and began to move.
I started slowly, swaying my hips in time with the beat, my hands roaming over my body, caressing my curves. I could feel the eyes of the men on me, their gazes burning into my skin, and it sent a thrill of excitement coursing through me.
I let my hands wander, cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples until they were hard and aching. I heard the men around me groan, their appreciation spurring me on. I opened my eyes, meeting their hungry gazes, and smiled.
Then, I stepped closer to the pool table, letting my knees brush against the edge.
I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table, and pushed my hips back, giving the men a clear view of my plugged ass. I could hear their murmurs of approval, their hungry grunts.
"Like what you see?" I asked, my voice low and sultry. I could feel the power dynamic shifting, the men's desire fueling my own.
"Fuck yeah, we do," the bearded man replied, his voice thick with lust. "Come here, let us get a closer look."
I stood up straight, my body still moving to the music, and walked around the table.
I gave each man a chance to see my plugged ass up close, my body trembling with anticipation. I finally stopped in front of the bearded man, my eyes locked onto his.
"You like what you see?" I asked again, my voice husky and confident.
The man let out a low growl, reaching out to grab me by the hips. He pulled me closer, pressing his hard cock against my hip.
"More than you know, sweetheart," he said, his voice rough.
I closed my eyes, allowing myself to sag into his grip, feeling his hips move against mine. It was an illusion of power, one that I reveled in, even though I knew it was nothing more than a façade.
As the men around us whooped and cheered, my reverie was broken by a loud "and who the fuck are you?" It was the club manager, and he didn't look pleased. His eyes were narrowed in anger at the sight of me blatantly advertising myself to his patrons.
MisogynistMrNightmare chuckled, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
The club manager instructed me to follow him to his office, not permitting me to fix my dress. I hastily grabbed my belongings, including the used condom, and hurried after him. Mr MisogynisticNightmare watched our interaction with amusement before following behind us, his lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk as I was scolded for indecent exposure.
As I stood before the manager, my head bowed in submission, I was reminded of how easily I had allowed myself to be led astray. My desire to please him had overridden my better judgment, and I had been willing to do anything, even be publicly humiliated, just to earn his praise.
"I should call the cops, but we're a girl short tonight. So here's the deal - you work here as a topless waitress the rest of the night and I won't turn you in. But, this needs to be legit so you need to sign a contract of employment, the minimum we allow is a 3 month term." The manager thrust a piece of paper towards me, his eyes filled with a mix of disgust and disdain. I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I knew this was not what I had signed up for when I agreed to go out with Mr MisogynisticMan. But, I also knew that I couldn't back down now. Not when I had come this far, not when I had allowed myself to be led down this dark and twisted path.
"Sign it," MisogynistMrNightmare demanded in a low growl from behind me.
I reached out to take the pen offered by the manager, my hands trembling as I scrawled my name on the document. I knew that I was giving away my dignity, my pride, and maybe even my very soul. But I also knew that I was willing to do what it took to satisfy Mr MisogynisticNightmare.
"Good," the manager sneered, snatching the document from my hand and scanning it quickly.
"I'll get you set up with a uniform and schedule. You can start tonight."
I nodded silently, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. I had expected him to be more violent, more degrading. But this... this was something I could handle. I had come far, and I was determined to see this through to the end.
As I was led away to change into my new uniform, I could feel a strange mixture of emotions swirling inside me. One moment, I was ashamed of myself for letting things get this far.
I had always prided myself on being a strong, independent woman, yet here I was, reduced to a mere plaything for a man I barely knew. But then, another part of me reveled in the thrill of the unknown, the forbidden pleasure of exploring my submissive side. I craved the feeling of being dominated, of being used for someone else's pleasure. It was a strange and twisted desire, one that I had never fully understood or embraced until now.
I followed the manager to the back room, where a few other girls were getting ready for their shifts.
I was handed a skimpy outfit - a black lace bra and thong set, along with a short skirt and matching heels. I changed quickly, trying to ignore the flutters of nerves in my stomach. I had never been a stripper before, and I wasn't sure if I could go through with it.
But as I looked at myself in the mirror, my body on full display, I could feel a surge of confidence wash over me. I looked good, confident, and strong. And more importantly, I knew that I could do this.
I could push past my inhibitions, my fears, and become the submissive, obedient woman that Mr MisogynisticNightmare desired. It was a role that I had never fully embraced before, but the way he looked at me now, with a mixture of lust and admiration, made me want to be that person for him.
As I adjusted my skirt and made my way back to the main floor, I could feel a strange sense of excitement building inside me. I was no longer just Lilly, the graduate student.
I was now Lilly, the topless waitress, Lilly, the object of desire for these men. And as I stood before them, their eyes raking over my bare chest, I could feel the power of their gaze, their hunger for me. It was a strange, exhilarating feeling, one that I had never experienced before.
I moved between tables, serving drinks and taking orders, but it was difficult to focus with the constant barrage of lewd comments and advances. They touched me, grabbed me, whispered filthy things in my ear. But I didn't fight back.