Go to your job at the Strip Club (Fake ID)
From Create Your Own Story
Being a young teenage girl is tough!
You leave the house pissed off at your lazy ass father. You can’t believe he threw a beer can at you either. What the fuck was that? You understand that it’s hard for him since mom died, but it’s hard for all of you.
You get into your piece of shit Buick Regal circa 1995 and pull out of the driveway. You always feel a little apprehension when you take to the road. You only have your permit and are supposed to have a licensed adult with you when driving at night, but that’s where the fake id comes in handy.
You drive a few miles to the shadier side of town. Your dad thinks you have a part-time job at Starbucks but instead you part time at a strip club called Buck Wyld’s where your fake id turns you from 17 to 21.
You enter the club and are greeted by the Brad the bouncer. “Hey Lidia, how’s it going girl?”
Lidia is your stripper name. You thought it sounded pretty. “I’m doing all right, Brad. Is Ronnie here tonight?” You were referring to your friend Veronica, who also goes to school with you. You two got your fake IDs together.
“Yeah, she’s in the back,” Brad says, nodding at a few guys as they enter. You can feel their eyes on you already, even before you hit the stage.
“Thanks, Brad,” you say. You head to your locker in the back to change. Your locker happens to be right next to Veronica’s but she must have already hit the floor because she isn't there. You change into a spare cheerleading uniform you keep here. Not only did it save you some cash on getting a costume, but the guys around here go crazy over it.
You hit the stage for your first set. Dressed in your high school cheerleader uniform and six-inch heels, you move seductively to the music. While you’re getting into the groove, you take a look around the club to see if there’s anyone you recognize.
You see Ronnie in the corner giving a lap dance to younger guy with his cap flipped backwards. She waves at you and motions you to come over when you’re done with your set. You give her a slight nod as you slowly push your skirt off you hips and let it fall to the stage floor, revealing a white thong. You see Mr. Moore, an architect and a good customer of yours tipping a waitress for a drink. He sees you and gives a wink. You wink back as you casually kick your skirt aside and slowly work your top over your firm, plump breasts. You drop your top to the floor and then turn around and bend over, arching your back to give Mr. Moore a nice view of your ass and the white thong barely covering your not-quite-legal pussy. You give your ass a shake and see Mr. Moore clapping with enthusiasm. You smile a seductive smile, but then as you look up you stop in horror. At a few tables from the stage sits Mr. Jones, your math teacher. What is he doing here? If word gets out that you're stripping, it’ll be hell at school and especially at home. Your dad may be too drunk to get a job, but not too drunk to have his little girl bumping and grinding on pervs for money. It doesn’t look like Mr. Jones has noticed you yet. He’s staring intently at his drink, but you still have another song in your set before you can leave the stage. This next song is going to be the longest 3 to 5 minutes of your life.
What happens next?
- Mr. Jones gets up to go to the bathroom and doesn’t see you.
- Mr. Moore comes up to tip you, blocking Mr. Jones’ view.
- Mr. Jones looks up to lock eyes with you.
Requirements: This is a story about a young girl written in second person.
