The Erotichronicles V 01: Ch. 28

(This is a novel in three volumes, published elsewhere in 2019, revised for publication here. This first volume, MEGA PLATINUM VIP, concludes now. You may need to suspend disbelief to an extreme degree, and brace yourself for a steady barrage of fantasy-level sex. This includes treatment of the life-and-work conditions of women in adult entertainment as much more favorable, and lucrative, than they are in reality. All sex acts involve only people who are at least 18 years old. The corporate designation 'Eroti Entertainment' used in this story, is not real.

(At this point in the story, Molly and Jen's strip duet drew raves from fans, and Eroti headquarters.

(Details are in the tags. The second and third volumes are about as long as this one, and will be posted about the same way. Enjoy!)

***

Chapter 28: So Damn Perfect

***

More of the same.

***

Thursday, September 26. From Molly:

The clutter of meetings was pared down by Donna Pendergast, who had me in at 10 a. m. to hand over the long-term offer. Plus a chat on some other topics. One in particular.

"First, I want you to know that everything you and Wildfire did sent everyone over the moon, me included," she said. "Corporate can't stop raving about it. Mark said you could make any counter-offer and he might go along with it. He's also really interested in Jennifer."

To which I just nodded and didn't say, I'll bet he is.

Donna let the swivel chair turn a bit as she went on. "And I'm really impressed with your artistry, and with Sherry's vision. Very challenging and thought-provoking, I think even for men who were provoked in other ways." She shook her head. "I'll just say it, I wish I could do that dance, and sell it to a crowd. But I'll let the real dancers do that."

There was a pause. I smiled and said, "Go ahead, Donna, I think I know where you're going."

She nodded. "This week, will you be doing your usual dances?"

"I will. Pole spinning, stripping, fancy footwork, high kicks, tassel twirls, naughty stuff, all to get a rise out of the boys and make them think I want only pricks."

Louder and firmly, "No topic is off limits, as far as I'm concerned. I would never interfere with what a dancer wants to do, as long as it stays physically legal. I think Sherry is brilliant, and I'm very much in favor of creating a choreographer role for her. And it's certainly no secret that our customers have idealized fantasies of what they think lesbians do."

I said, "But..."

She took a breath. "This has never come up at Eroti, while I've been in management. Some people are worried about what the outside world will think of us if we're political." She raised her hands helplessly, let them fall again. "We deal in explicit sex! We let men enter our clubs and be masturbated by women! We may enable the ruination of marriages and the breakup of families! We have countless videos with lesbians in practices that border on the impossible! But two women on a stage, dressed as men and working their way to a nude embrace, is somehow going too far? It's ridiculous!"

"At the end of the day," I said, "men still want to think that they're in charge, and that women desire them."

She pushed the stack of paper closer to me, with a grim expression. "I think you should make a counter-offer." Which confirmed for me that 'some people' was one person, and who that was.

I picked up the stack. "Does Mr. Wexler have a copy?"

"Of course."

"I'll talk this over with him later today." I smiled. "And I'll remind my colleagues about my boyfriend."

***

"You were such a babe!" I gushed to Henry, looking up at him, as his real thing went where Blue Boy had gone. He had me on a cloud of joy!

"Got, me through, law, school," he said, all business but with a little smile.

"We played the same venue in the Bahamas," said Marge, rolling her tits into mine. "The place was lousy with cocaine. We fucked sober and saw no reason to do different."

"Saved, money," said Henry.

"Marge lemme eat your pussy," I murmured.

She straddled my face. "Once a dyke..."

In the Jacuzzi I said, "Henry, what can you tell me about this Vegas trip?"

"Eroti wants to replicate this club," he said. "We're negotiating to buy large, closed buildings in three cities. There can be issues with local people, such as proximity of a strip club to schools. At this expo, prospective franchisees will watch the dancers and perhaps make offers, although no new club would exist for at least a year."

"McBoobies!" exulted Marge.

"So the dancers would just be a meat parade?" I asked.

"You could do any dance you like," he said, with obvious meaning. "Plus a lot of interviews and social media. Details are sparse right now."

"Galaxia has already pushed for as many dances as she can get," said Marge. "Jessie, now again almost Doublevision, says she's considering. Meanwhile," she sighed, "Did you notice that two of the twelve rooms in this motel are now equipped with fuck dolls?"

***

From Gabe:

At long last, Jade! Stephanie Kim, that is.

Should I be careful what I wish for?

In my first visit to the club since it reopened, I continued my boycott of private rooms. Using them would have meant about a twenty-minute wait, because while the first new rooms were built, they weren't yet furnished. Where they protrude into the public space, about fifteen feet above the heads of customers, only about half the surface was painted.

Molly strolled over between dances. It's so nice to be the same person with her here, that I am when we're alone. We smile and hug and kiss. All I have to do is keep my hands off most of the merchandise.

In my ear she murmured: "I'll cheat on you tonight."

"Congratulations. Are these details you want me to know?"

"Yes, in fact. Please be my well-being check. Text me at 3 a. m." She then gave me a hotel name and room number. "If you get an alert from me before then, come running."

I figured her date was John Alvarez, but I didn't say his name. "Still not really sure about him?"

"Thanks to stardom, I can't be sure about anybody until I make myself physically helpless."

"If I really have to come running, I'll also call the cops."

She put a hand up. "Only if I ask for that."

And I thought No, 9-1-1 no matter what.

After we parted company, I watched dances and strolled the floor and eventually saw Jade at a bar. Incredibly, she was alone, except for (and perhaps because of) bouncers. As I approached, she smiled and nodded to the bouncers, who allowed me to sidle up.

"Fine dance, as always," I said.

"Thank you," she said, seeming quite upbeat. Not unusual for a dancer who'd recently performed. She continued, "Pardon the flattery, but you're looking much more impressive."

"I've lost thirty-one pounds," I said, really enjoying saying that.

"And you're still denying us your presence upstairs?" She mock-pouted. Why in the world did she think her face was blah? In fairly standard eye makeup and lip gloss, she was plenty expressive.

"That was really a problem," I said, quite seriously.

She ran a finger along her glass, looking sidelong. And I'm all hmmmm. She positioned herself so I got a really good look at her cleavage, more or less within a purple dress. She murmured, "But how can we have any fun?"

"We could leave the premises." I took her free hand, and she let me kiss it.

"There's nobody in line? At your place?"

I gave her a mock hangdog look. "I'd be all alone, all night."

She smiled and kissed my cheek. "I can fix that. Can I string you along until midnight?"

I smiled back. "Consider me strung."

It was a fine tryst, but a little weird. And steadily weirder.

We sixty-nined till we both came, then after a brief cuddle she wanted missionary, during which she stroked my torso and said, "So much better, how much more?" I said maybe thirty more pounds, unless I remained doughy. She came twice while I came once.

Shower break, during which she said, "I want everything you can do to me. Your videos get me jacked."

I told her that Marquesa had sent me the whole photo shoot, and I praised her solo nude.

She asked seriously, "What about the one with Galaxia?"

I shrugged. "Nice, but you're hugging. Can't see much detail."

"The photographer encouraged us to play around, maybe for his own fun. That one was Diana's idea." Making it clear that it wasn't Stephanie's.

Then she cowgirled and gave me her tits to suck, I think mostly for my benefit, and then gave me a titfuck and sucked the head, swallowing all the spunk. By then I could definitely be done for the night, and looked forward to cuddly sleep with her. After I carried out a task unrelated to her.

Second shower. In the course of what I thought was fairly light conversation, she came out with, "My biological clock sounds like a bell tower. I'm thirty-two. Once I fertilize an egg, I'm out of this business."

She had said she was on birth control. I had left the condoms in the drawer.

She offered another blowjob, but I told her that she had finished me off for the night, maybe more fun in the morning. I also said I had to message someone in a few minutes, which she could just sleep through. She said nothing, maybe working it out for herself.

Stephanie was asleep when I texted U OK? And also when Molly texted YES THX LUV U.

In the morning Stephanie wanted doggystyle. I put on a condom, and she said nothing about that. She finished with a blowjob. She had taken me to six orgasms, with (I think) five of her own. If this was now to become a scoreboard in the dressing room, at least it didn't carry the danger of private rooms.

Except I think it was just her. As she was leaving she kissed me deep and said, "I would be the only woman you'd ever need. And all I'd ever need and want is a man. One man."

***

Tuesday, October 1. From Gabe:

On a long table at the coffee shop where Weinstock took meetings, Molly looked through a binder of glossy photos. Nathan and Penny tried to explain each one, to which Molly nodded, perhaps listening.

"They'll get their own equipment and location," Weinstock told me. "They can free-lance for this. Eroti would not be involved in any way."

I nodded. "We'd pay in advance. If she okays it."

Molly put on a VR headset and said, "Show me the next one."

More quietly Weinstock asked, "Is she going exclusive?"

"She's counter-offered a three-year deal where she dances exclusively at TopHeavy, or another local Eroti club, and Eroti would control that video, but pay her for any use. It would not obligate her to do anything else for Eroti, and allow her to do whatever she wants outside the club."

"Will that fly?"

"We don't think so."

Molly took off the headset. "It all looks good. I still need to know if I'm ready." She looked at Weinstock. "You say everybody's pretty cool in here?"

Weinstock smiled "After a nude guerrilla theatre demonstration, out on the square, management welcomed the participants in, asking only that they cover the stools before sitting."

"Good," she said. "Gabe, mirrors and magnifier." To Nathan and Penny: "Lights." She moved to an open stretch of floor.

I set up mirrors, mounting one on a stand overhead, so Molly would get a clear look. A magnifier filled her field of view with her butt and thighs. She dropped her jeans, with only a teensy light blue thong keeping her legal.

"That is one beautiful ass," said Weinstock.

"If I look for them reeeaaallly hard," I said, "I can see three tiny dimples in the thighs."

"I only see two," said Weinstock. "Great skin." We were looking at her directly, not through mirrors. Other patrons did too, with those in front seeing a really cute camel toe.

Molly pivoted this way, then that, gazing at the mirror. Finally she nodded. "This Saturday, early afternoon." She looked at Nathan and Penny as she crouched to pull up her jeans. "Is that okay?"

"Perfect," said Penny.

As Molly zipped up, the other fourteen people in the shop applauded. She smiled to the room and said, "My next dance at TopHeavy will be 7 p. m. Thursday. You'll see a lot more than that." Several cheers, a couple boos. A diverse group, in its way.

To me she said, "After it's done, and I know it's what I want, take me to the steakhouse. Enough is enough."

***

Saturday, October 5. From Gabe:

During the next four days, I had to limit her leg-lift reps, insisting that after a certain point, there's no further benefit. In a way, she had internalized The Mad, directing it at whatever few excess fat cells still hid out in her body. She slept at my place most of the week, to use the leg-lift and leave the apartment free for Jen. She was focused, but we fucked a fair amount and aided each other's orgasms.

She had her hair done Saturday morning. I can only hope she didn't give the stylist much grief. Once she was in the location (yet another artsy loft), she was all business. "First, no makeup," she said. She brought no shoot wear or accessories. "All nude," she said curtly when I had asked. She disrobed when she arrived and stayed that way. Her legs, armpits, and crotch looked as though hair had never existed there.

Jen and I were there for support, for which she never asked, so instead I ogled.

Nathan and Penny took turns on stills and video. The cams were humungous, to record both single images and duplexes for virtual reality. The lights, diffusers, and backdrop were never moved. The only prop was a bed with gold-rail head and foot frame. Some of the video documented the progress from one still pose to the next; some video was clips of her posing, dancing, and exercising. When she chose to smile, she looked completely genuine, ranging across tranquil, beatific, playful, seductive, and malevolent.

After about an hour of this, she made up her eyes and lips, and did much the same again, though towards the end she got jokey and had a floor fan turned on, to blow her hair while she walked, at normal speed, in 'slow motion.' She did that a couple times, then let herself crack up doing it a couple more.

She then called a halt and, still naked, went through every still (single and dual) and every second of video, at times pointing out things she thought worked or didn't. Poor Nathan had to stay professional as she leaned her naked self against him to look at the viewers. He's been in close proximity to many attractive naked women, some of them doing sex acts, but this was Molly.

Penny, smiling, said in my ear, "We'll take care of each other later. Not the first time." She looked at Molly. "I'm absolute straight arrow, but she turns me on."

At last Molly declared herself to be satisfied with 47 stills and 29 minutes of video. She almost crumpled where she sat. "Thank you, Penny and Nathan!" She flopped on her back. "God, I'm so damn perfect!"

Jen lay down next to her and hugged. "No no," said Molly, while hugging back, "Anybody wants lesbian, they gotta pay through the nose." Then she rolled on top of Jen and humped her. Maybe just in fun.

Finally she got up, walked over to me, kissed rough to leave lipstick all over my mug, and went all Little Shop of Horrors: "Feed me, Seymour!"

Jen came along to the steakhouse. (I would have treated Nathan and Penny too, but they clearly had plans for the bed.) Molly got about halfway through her rib-eye, then asked for a take-home box. "I really wanted the taste again," she said, "but if I can't gorge yet, I'm better off."

She wanted me to come to her place after work. Jen said she was going to Greg's that night. I just skipped the club and went home to write, and tried to dig into Pervasor some more. Got nowhere.

Ms. Naked Perfect opened the building's main door and looked ready to stroll through the neighborhood. I got her back into the place for which she paid rent, where she giggled and sighed in relief most of the night, when she wasn't gasping, moaning, wailing, or gulping my prick. "I've been such a pill!" she said. "Thank you for putting up with me. I promise to do the same during your shoot."

"I don't have another--"

"Not a porn shoot. A solo nude shoot. How many pounds are you away?"

"Twenty-six," I said, "unless it turns out to be forty."

"I'll make sure all your favorite ladies are there. We'll have to be nude, of course, behind the camera. Got to keep your pride and joy at attention."

"Who's bringing the paper bag for my head?"

"Suck in the gut for a second." I did. She slapped my navel. "I knew it! Abs! I'm gonna cowgirl you again."

All of her pent-up fun burst free that night, and it was my privilege to be drowned in it.

***

Monday, October 7. From Molly:

In the practice room I saw something in Jessie's office. It was a gold lamé wrap dress on a hanger, suspended from a coat rack. The door was open. I knocked and leaned in. "Heavy date?"

Jessie sat behind her desk in gray sweats. "I'll be meeting and greeting tonight. Everything that dress shows off looks great. The corset takes care of the illusion, and I may not even need it."

"I'll stay out of your way."

"Hell no, Miss Cutest Damn Tit Monster On Earth. I'm standing right next to you. I want those selfies. Especially if you run out on us."

I said, "I think my offer is reasonable."

"Like a flat refusal to model for a fuck doll?"

"I'm not refusing, it's just not something I want in this contract. Eroti and I can discuss that separately."

"Don't bullshit me, Molly. Carly Cummings rolls out in December. You're now second on the list, thanks to your dyke dance. Tomorrow you could be first, depending on the side effects of Darrendahl's boner pills."

"Okay, yeah, I don't want to model for a fuck doll. I think Eroti can make lots of money off me other ways." Wow, was I wishing I'd never walked in.

"And this is one of the ones they want. Listen, they feel a lot better about Bella now."

"So are they going to give her what she wants?"

"They're not going to piss on her contract and dare her to sue. They'd probably let her do porn, but on their terms. But that's beside the point. Molly, they are not gonna let you dance here and do video for someone else. Hasn't Wexler made that clear?"

"Gotta go," I said, which I didn't, but I did anyway.

That night I gathered up all the contract proposals and told Gabe I was ready to talk to his lawyer.

***

Thursday, October 10. From Gabe:

An email arrived, from Weinstock: 'Does this bed look familiar?' There followed a link to something deep within Eroti.

Which showed me a screen capture of her being assfucked doggystyle, on the bed Molly and I had used in the San Jose guest house.

Ensuing email exchanges informed me that she shot three videos there in two days, with Eroti's three top male performers, with whom she'd get first-but-equal billing. The vids were top-quality, non-exploitive (to the extent porn ever can be), big on facial expression, and passion, and fancy outfits, and undies. The work was very lucrative for her, with residuals to be paid after the vids go live. She calls herself Calypso, the name she's always used as a performer. She insisted that she's still a filmmaker first, and her rectum really needs a rest, but she enjoys the star treatment when it's available.

***

Friday, October 11. From Gabe:

There's peace in boobland. A little of it. Maybe.

It has been officially announced that Sherry Mozelius is on the payroll at TopHeavy as Consulting Choreographer, which means that other dancers can work with her to develop new dances or improve existing ones. Hibiscus is also still dancing, and working on a new solo for herself. Molly told me, "It's not a gender-bender. Nor is it a-real-woman-wants-a-real-man. It could be provocative in a whole different way."

Kinda related to that, Molly and Jen will reprise their duet at TopHeavy on October 24 and 26, comfortably after their upcoming periods, and just before the second construction closure. Jen will draw bonuses for those days, plus her half share of the tips, but would still be a housegirl at PoleSitter--where she is now the main draw, aside from Bella's one dance there. Jen has had another increase in base salary. Sherry is working with her on a new solo dance.

Thanks to Chris Nardullo, Eroti is coming around to a short-term deal, maybe two years, when Molly would dance exclusively for Eroti clubs (and events like the Vegas show), with all of her dance videos as Eroti exclusives. The two sides are close to agreeing on her base pay rate and bonuses. Wexler, I'm told, argued that for her own sake Molly should get the longest and most dollar-committed deal possible--including for the fuck doll, which he always points out as more legal than what goes on in private rooms. He and Molly are not on good terms right now, and I know it hurts her.

Nevertheless, she again blew the doors off with her featured dance tonight, feeding off the crowd energy and looking otherworldly. She hasn't gained back any weight.

I chatted for a while with Jessie Corcoran, who looked spectacular in a gold lamé dress. I said, "I understand you'll be dancing again soon."

"November sixth. Mark your calendar. It helps that I schedule all the dances, and dancers."

Like Molly, I was still trying to figure her out. Did being in management make her less of an issue, or more of one? I was also trying to focus on that while noting her firm jawline, sleek arms, and beguiling eyes. "So you'll be back in the dance corps in time for Vegas."

With a milk-lapping smile she said, "One thing at a time." She rotated on her stool, put both elbows on the bar, and eased her upper body between them, showing me that the weight loss had not diminished her greatest glory. "I have many worlds to conquer." She kissed my cheek, parted the lips enough to dart in the tongue, then smoothly spun off the stool and walked away.

Until then, this might have been a night when I'd just amble on home. Now I was kinda thinking about action. Probably best not to crawl after Jessie.

A few minutes later, Molly started her meet-and-greet, accompanied by Sherry and Ginger X. The three of them were the best thing that ever happened to evening gowns, and to evenings. I saw four, maybe five, bouncers thinning out their immediate vicinity, allowing in a manageable number of selfie seekers.

The ladies worked the floor meticulously in this gap between mainstage dances. At one point, Ginger X and two bouncers split off and went into the VIP Lounge. Gradually, subtly, Molly and Sherry made their way towards me.

Maybe fifteen selfies later, Molly walked up to me, arms wide. "As Mitzi Maxima would say, look what the cat dragged in." We hugged, but not for each other. I was being stage-managed for a large floating crowd. I liked what I thought she was doing.

Sure enough, a few banters later she moved on, with an "I see him all the time." The crowd floated with her. Sherry stayed with me.

"Congratulations, Madame Consultant," I said, toasting her with ginger ale. "Are you overworked yet?"

She gave a hunching shrug, showing that without an act to perform, she was more of a cutie than a siren. "It could be worse. Some dancers say their own choreography is just fine. A few of them are right."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Mee-yowww! I won't ask you to name names."

"Gabe... I'm sorry about the whole private room thing. It was lots of fun at the time, and I really loved it! But I guess we were all crossing the line."

"I don't blame you for anything. I really loved it too. But I hope you understand why I had to say no."

She reached out and held my upper arm. "Of course! You did exactly the right thing!" She stopped, and squeezed my bicep. Her eyes widened. "Oh."

I shrugged. "I've been trying to up my game."

Those wide eyes bored deep into mine. "Um, you remember that thing you did, when you, uh, picked up..."

"I do, and I've done it since then. With women heavier than you." And this close to sealing the deal, I had to stop myself and say, "How serious are you and Denny?"

She beamed. "I think we're in love!" But then she got maybe as close to a siren look as she could. "And I think he's going to take Molly home tonight."

And so this was a complete mate swap.

The first thing that happened in bed was that she licked me. No, not there. Arms, shoulders, legs, the parts of me that had emerged from the giant dumpling. All the while, she sounded awestruck. "The form, the line, the power." She looked me square in the eyes. "Do you dance?"

"What are you, crazy?"

"I'll teach you!" She exulted. "Think of how much better your pornos will be, fucking and dancing!"

I envisioned Weinstock doubled over in hysterics.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Sherry, but most of us can't get near your level."

"I'm sorry, what am I thinking? I'm in bed with a man I lust for. But you're like an unfinished sculpture that will soon be perfect." Still seeming to be off the subject, she stood over me and grabbed my vertical tool. After rubbing the head against her labia, this slender woman immediately engulfed my entire length. "Ouuhh aahh God holy shit!" And so I chalked up another first: a woman who orgasmed on the initial insertion of the penis.

But she wasn't done. She proceeded to cowgirl energetically for a very long time, maybe accessing (as Molly often does) a vaginal orgasm after an early clitoral. I held back, encouraging her, but her tight pussy was getting to me. I started trunk rotations, and this amped her the rest of the way. She spazzed hard, often, and from her breasts to her knees. Joyfully I jizzed.

She seemed pretty worn out, so I offered to lady-lift her in the morning. She agreed, and spent a lot of time in the shower washing the parts of me that are worth looking at.

I wasn't surprised by where the pillow talk went. "I love men so much," she said with a tremble. "I want them. And I'm thrilled when I get them, and that they want me."

"Count me in," I said, trying to be light-hearted.

"Fucking is just so great, so... I mean, I still really want you inside. Oh no, I haven't blown you yet."

"It's okay, tomorrow."

"And you can see how much I love bodies. I mean I wanted to tear your clothes off right there in the club." She pulled on my chest hair a little too much.

"Is it so wrong," she said, "that I think women's bodies are great too? But as media for wonderful art, not for sex with me."

Most people should probably never use the word 'art.' I'll always give her permission. "When you have a vision," I said, "and you find people who can bring it to life, especially in something as physical as dance, then of course you get excited. And affected viscerally."

"Yes!" she said. "And I'm grateful to them, and I love what they do for me. But, like, when I was in the meet-and-greet with Molly and Giselle. We were just three hot ladies and good friends, enjoying ourselves. I like them, and I care about them, and I was happy to be around them, but I didn't want to fuck them. You I wanted to fuck."

"I'm glad of that." I shifted her along my torso, so I could at least feel her breasts without grabbing them. "Sherry, how old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"Would you say you're still learning about dance, and choreography?"

"Of course."

"Then maybe you're also still learning about how that affects you, and the people you work with, physically."

"I guess."

"You didn't ask for my advice, but here it is anyway. I think you have the right idea, holding back from getting physically involved with the dancers you work with. It makes you crazy now, thinking about all that, but maybe in a little while, after more learning and work and life, you'll see it more calmly and clearly."

I felt her nod against my shoulder. "I hope so." She kissed my collarbone. "Thanks."

And so I took a step in the direction of a balanced life. For someone else.

The night's crisis was wiped out by the morning's lady lift. She treated me like an amusement park, whooping through the fuck. On the lift, she raised her hands over her head and spread her legs. "Fucking and pussylicking and a grand j'te!" she cried in triumph.

Then she sat on the edge of the bed and blew me. I mean, bleeeeeewww meeee. The way she did that, and the look she gave me, forced me to reassess her as a siren. One of my knees wobbled when I gunked her. And yet...

"Sherry," I said. "This was great, and I'm so glad it finally happened. But, please, can I play with your tits?"

"Omigod! Of course! I wanted so much to do what we couldn't do in a private room! I clean forgot about tits! Yes, yes, pleeeeze enjoy my tits any way you like!"

Which was sucking and fondling, by themselves and also along with a cowgirl with us both cumming, and then sucking more and finding out how she responds to breast play, and getting her to a boobasm, and then a glorious titfuck of those sweet natural DDs.

I think she'll be okay. As she was leaving, right out in the morning sunlight, before she opened her car door, she pulled down her pants and twerked her naked butt at me three times, looking over her shoulder with a naughty smile. Guess I'm not the only one with a signature move.

***

Wednesday, October 16. From Gabe:

There was a party in the VIP Lounge for the signing of Molly's two-year deal with Eroti. Base annual salary of $140k. At least one tour each year, with separate payments and bonuses. Exclusive Eroti use of her dance videos, to be chosen by Eroti and with a base-and-bonus pay schedule. Also, if a franchised TopHeavy club opens in another city before the deal lapses, she would dance at its grand opening.

No fuck doll modeling, licensing, or permission. No non-dance videos (but an Eroti first refusal if Molly seeks to make one). Lots of swag with her image.

Visible on the video message board, out in the main space: SELENA TO DANCE AT TOPHEAVY FOR TWO MORE YEARS! With her nip-hiding pic.

Everyone was in good spirits, even Henry Wexler. Molly PDA'd him a fair amount, clearly happy that they had buried the hatchet. Chris Nardullo didn't get the same treatment from her, but he was all smiles. This work raised his profile at the law firm, and he now had gigs that weren't complete hand-me-downs. He also dug being in the club, with the convenient excuse that it was work-related. He really took a liking to Fury, one of many dancers who stopped by to congratulate Molly and rub elbows. Molly, looking at Chris and Fury, murmured to me, "I'd give half the value of the contract to watch that hookup."

One feature of this event was the presentation on the lounge's flatscreen of Molly's nude pics and videos from the recent shoot. Both sides had affirmed in writing that these existed before the start date of the contract, and Molly could use them (or not) however she pleased.

After a celebratory toast, a mic was passed around among key participants, all in fun.

Jessie: "I get to ride your ass hard for two years. Show up late and I'm docking you."

Henry: "Ride her ass? Didn't know you were into that, Jessie. Seriously, Molly, it's so great that you got what you were looking for."

Jen: "Could you pay your share of next year's rent in advance?"

Cliff: "I want to add a video board outside the building with a whole-body nude shot of you. But we can't make the top wide enough."

Chris passed the mic.

Marge: "For God's sake, put on a few pounds! You're driving the rest of us crazy!"

Donna: "I've already locked up the tour bus concession for the next two years, so the rest of you will have to find some other side hustles."

Bella (!): "Just so you'll know, I'm working on a triple back-flip."

Me: "I guess I'm a kept man now. Justifying my existence was already my full-time job. Two-hour backrubs every night?" To which Molly said, "Damn straight."

***

Saturday, October 19. From Molly:

Bleeding and cramping like mad. Managed to get through work, but it was hard to look like I was having fun. I called Gabe towards the end. "Could you come over tonight and just, like, hold me?"

I found out later that he broke a date with Moira to do that.

I told him, "I think I have good news for you."

"Hmm?"

"Jade is also ragging hard. We're in synch. She was still on the pill."

"Ohhh. That is really good news."

"Do you want there to be little Mortons someday?"

"Not under those circumstances."

"Which I'll take as a qualified yes."

A touch testy: "Remember my parental experience."

"So noted. And mine isn't great. But Stephanie isn't the only one with a biological clock. I had reasons for keeping the contract down to two years."

If I needed any more proof of his devotion to me, I got it when he stayed with me after I said that. Poor guy, even my tits were too achy for him to enjoy. My body was making me miserable, but I don't think I'd ever been happier at any point in my life.

***

Tuesday, October 22. From Gabe:

I've found a few more fragments in my searches. Galen Fordyce, head of Security at TopHeavy, is a former employee of DRFG. But, within the field of surveillance/security professionals, almost anybody who's any good at it either worked for DRFG once or works there now. Fordyce left before the insider trading scandal and subsequent sale to the Pervasor shell company.

Molly has hoped to have a talk with Fordyce about bouncer recruitment, but he has no time for anyone. The third-floor work at the club is still in progress, with lots of equipment checks, validations, debugs, and Trojan horse searches to be done before construction can finish. All this, while the existing work of the security operation continues. Nobody ever said running a police state was easy.

People connected with some Pervasor entities, like the containership port in Macao, have also shown up as investors in the Thailand resort town of Phuket. Which used to be wide open, but once it became well known as a fleshpot (with many allegations of well-heeled Euros snagging impoverished native sex partners), it started to close a bit.

One definite, but maybe insignificant, datum on Pervasor emerged. The containership port is the transshipment point for Eroti's Malaysia-made sex dolls.

***

Thursday, October 24. From Molly:

Henry has forgiven me! He let me cowgirl him, even though that makes it tough for him to delay his orgasm. Marge rubbing her tits, legs, and crotch over his face made it even tougher, but she said, "He's a grownup, and it'll just make him cum harder when it's that time."

And, wow, did I ever cum hard! I had emerged from my period back at goal weight. I came twice cowgirling Gabe on the living room weight bench, and actually saw the video of the beach for a few seconds. Jen and I were killing it in the practice room. The club was taking reservations and jacking up the cover for the last four nights before the shutdown. All four nights had waiting lists.

Back at The Elysium, Marge was proven right. They both yelled louder than I could recall, and for a pretty long time. I was already in the Jacuzzi. They even kissy-faced longer than usual. "Uh-oh," I called over at them. "You're not really thinking about it, are you?"

"Certainly not," said Marge. "We happen to be between steadies right now, that's all."

With a warning tone I asked, "Where do you wind up after work?"

After a moment Henry said, "My place."

"That does it, I have to line up some strange for both of you."

"Butt out," said Marge, not in fun.

I complied, saying, "I tried."

***

From Gabe:

If people thought that what was now universally called the 'dyke dance' would be the most talked-about event at TopHeavy that night, they got a real slap in the face from what was on the mainstage later. Hibiscus debuted her new dance.

Most of it was based on the standard pole-strip model, but she did it miming the presence of someone else. She began in normal clothes, maybe office wear. A combination pole spin got her to the middle of the stage. She acted out meeting someone, clearly liking that person, dance-stepping through an ever more exuberant conversation. In joy she leapt to the pole, did a complex spin, tore away her top to reveal a plain black bra, returned to the stage--and no longer saw the other person. She looked around, found nobody.

A few dance moves later she encountered either the same mimed person or someone else, and again became happy. It went well for a while, but then it was clear that the person was leaving. Desperately she tore off her skirt--and won the mimed person back.

She returned to the pole, clearly accompanied by the other person. Her spins and flips were done with him (why not assume male?) and for him. With an ecstatic expression she spun off the pole--and found that she was again alone.

More ticked off than hurt, she doffed the bra and started tassel twirls. This drew the interest of several mimed people. Her floor dance indicated her moving around from one to another, enjoying it, flirting, expressing satisfaction more than happiness (and getting some relief laughs from the crowd). It was still clear that by stripping, she was giving away more and more of her body in the hope of getting and keeping the attention of others.

In time, Hibuscus discarded some of the 'people' around her, along with garments, tossing away first her shorts (revealing a golden thong), then each tassel. She beckoned one 'person' to join her on the pole, where she did her longest, highest, and most demanding moves, peaked as she stripped the thong and wrapped her legs around the pole, head rolling her hair around, torso writhing, breasts jerking in heartbeat rhythm, face undeniably orgasmic.

She kicked away her heels and dismounted with a front flip, immediately dropping to a splitz, arms raised, head back, smiling. The applause and thunderous cheering began then--but the dance wasn't over.

She stood, looking to one side, expecting to see the other person--who wasn't there. Her face froze. She looked around. Walked the whole stage, searching. Then ran. She was alone. She stood still in the center of the stage, where abandonment crushed her expression, her will, her spirit. She crumpled to the floor. Blackout.

The lights returned two seconds later. Hibiscus stood and waved, smiling calmly. The crowd didn't seem to know what to do. The applause and cheering had continued through the end and the blackout, and rose again as she turned to all sides and bowed, but seemed tentative, somehow.

Nothing came down from the grandstands. I grabbed every piece of paper money I had, and heaved airplane after airplane towards the stage. Maybe this reminded, or shamed, people, because other tips moved towards her. I also phoned her $500. I then texted her a couple lines of alternating fireworks and smile emojis. But I realized that I had to do a lot more.

Looking around, I saw Denny Yarborough, phone held in video-shooting position. I pushed through the grandstand to him. "Did you get the whole thing?" I asked urgently.

He looked at me, startled. We'd never met, but he knew who I was. "Uhh--yeah."

"Post it," I said. "Everywhere you can think of." I held my phone up to his. "Send me links."

I think it got through to him why I was acting this way. "You got it."

Would that be enough? Was better video needed? Behind a camera well on the floor I saw a guy with dark curly hair and big glasses. I barreled my way to him, not quite knocking down people in the way. "Mr. Tazewell," I called over the crowd noise. "Can you upload that video to the public right now?"

He was smiling, applauding, in awe of Sherry. "Hey, Mr. Morton! No, that's cached at Eroti until corporate gives the word to go live."

My memory of July 13, and the video of that night, was distant and settled. Much of the time, I forgot it, even though that was when Tomiko and Morima transformed my life. When I did think about that night, the overwhelming net positive (especially the part about Molly and me finding our way together) just made me smile. But there was still a tiny, angry knot in my memory, and it blasted its way to top-of-mind now, when I needed it.

"Tazewell!" I bellowed, getting in his face. "You owe me!"

He wasn't intimidated physically. But his smile vanished. He met my gaze evenly. "Okay," he said. He got out his phone. "Galen, I need you to fake a hack." To me: "Five minutes."

"Do you need someone to accuse?" I asked.

"That would really help."

"I'm on it."

Working my way back into the grandstand, I called Molly. "Can you ask a favor of John Alvarez?" Once I explained the favor, I said he should get in touch with Fordyce.

Then I badgered an Eroti chat room into addressing this dance. I posted Denny's video. I brought in various social media sites outside the Eroti realm, probably replicating what Denny had already done. Responses began to show up.

Despite using my big clumsy fingers on a phone screen, I praised the effectiveness of the tassel sequence, when the dancer's mood was annoyed more than tragic, amused more than heartfelt. It misdirected the viewer about the ultimate outcome, and the lightening of the mood made the return to the theme of abandonment more effective than nonstop abandonment would have been. I also said that the transition from the triumphant nudity of the splitz to the bereft nudity of the final collapse overwhelmed me.

Yes, I was writing about a striptease pole dance. There was plenty of dismissive hooting, and snide declarations that if she doesn't like this line of work and what men think about it, she should go live in a convent. Then more phone videos were posted, and then Tazewell's top-quality one. A pro-Sherry comment by John Alvarez turned up right around then. I grinned, knowing that we had engineered the perfect combination of messing with an evil power structure, and covering the asses of the people who made it possible.

Soon there was just as much praise and support for Sherry as there was jeering, and then the praise side flooded beyond the pathetic cadre of haters. I began to think that my gender was worth belonging to.

***

Sunday, October 27. From Molly:

Sherry seemed calmer, and older, after her Thursday dance, saying things like "I guess I'll never work in this business again," but giving no sign of being worried or regretful. Every dancer praised and hugged her (even Galaxia and Dakota!). What Sherry had said in her dance was what we all feared.

Donna Pendergast called an all-boobs before the start of work Friday. "First thing," she said, with anger under the surface, "This has been in the works for a while, but it'll be announced Sunday. I'm the new club manager. Cliff is going to San Jose to take charge of development of franchised TopHeavy clubs and sex dolls." Her decision not to say 'home companions' told me a lot.

"Second thing. Don't be surprised if my tenure is short. I'm absolutely, positively thrilled by what Sherry did, and I'll back her as long as I have the authority to do so." She looked at Corcoran. "What do you say, Jessie?"

"I say that Mark's a fucking asshole." She looked around at us. "Anybody want to snitch? Don't bother, I told him to his face."

"So did I," said Donna with relish. "I really like face time, it allows you to flip the bird and make your meaning crystal clear."

I spoke up. "I think I like what you're saying, but you jumped ahead. What did Mark do?"

"He called me Thursday night and said--here, let me get the transcript." Donna pulled out a sheet of paper from behind her pocket square. "Quote, 'What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? Seduced and abandoned? Like our customers are going to be on her side?' Unquote."

"When I joined Donna," said Jessie, "she was pointing out that there was already a firestorm of social media about this. It seems to have been started by a certain Mr. G. Morton. There was video going viral and hundreds of messages of praise for Hibiscus. Mark was really twisting in the wind, knowing he had to get out in front of it somehow."

Donna handed the paper to Jessie, who continued, "Finally he said, quote, 'Five hundred bucks, one day posted above the fold, link to a mediated chatroom on the issue. Tell Ms. Mozelius that that's the most powerful and compelling pole dance ever, and I hate her fucking guts.' Unquote." Jessie looked at Sherry. "And now you've been told."

Sherry, still looking calm and confident, said, "Thanks. That may be the best review I get in my whole life." We laughed, and somebody (maybe Ginger X?) said "Way to go Gabe."

I think everybody knew by then what had been done by Gabe, and Denny, and John. But now I almost misted up. Sweetie, you'd seen and heard the night before how thrilled I was by what you did, but I want to write it here too. And I give myself a lot of credit for leading you down the road to becoming a functional adult human.

"Anyway," said Donna, "I'm proud to join the inmates in running this asylum, for as long as that can last. I won't promise anything, but I think that right now, if Mark had to choose between cracking down on TopHeavy and cutting off his dick, it'd be a coin flip."

Which produced what may have been the loudest female-voiced cheer ever in that building, at least since it stopped being a movie house.

For the next three days, our energy smacked down the few instances of customer surliness that arose in the building. Threats to ditch VIP membership had almost nothing behind them. Galen sent the nastier threats to law enforcement, with metadata he was able to gather, and there were immediate arrests. Galen's 'investigation' of the 'hack' was unable to trace it to any specific individual, but he said it likely came from someone tech-savvy, with substantial resources, within this metro area. TopHeavy security, Galen added, had found our system's vulnerability, and eradicated it.

By Saturday, customers were entering the club wearing 'I Love Hibiscus' t-shirts (with the word love, not the heart symbol) that had materialized from somewhere. The fact that there had been phone contact between Gabe and John on Friday might have had absolutely nothing to do with this. Denny insisted that he hadn't started it, although he had marked up his shirt with 'REALLY REALLY' between 'I' and 'Love.'

I got in touch with a florist and made a special order for Sunday.

When Jen and I dyke-danced again on Saturday, we hid "I Love Hibiscus" shirts in the linings of our male outfits. They were cut so the message showed on our backs but the fronts only covered necks and shoulders. We put these on during the blackout (and partly after, because we were trying to find things in the dark) to declare our love and support, and to make sure everybody could still see our tits.

The schedule was rearranged to get Sherry's dance in again, also on Saturday.

As we were about to close Sunday night, and with the house still full because of what was expected (or hoped) to be a tradition, Donna took the stage, dressed very office-serious. "Thank you, lovers of beautiful women, for your continued support of TopHeavy. My name is Donna Pendergast. I am proud to announce that I am now the manager of this club." Applause, and a few yells of "Take it off!" which she had expected, and ignored.

"As we did before, we will close next week for more of our renovations. When we reopen, on November fourth, you will find even more improvements in the facilities, but the same beauty on the stages and floor. In the meantime, please enjoy many of our dancers, at PoleSitter, NewBurlesque, LadyGarden, and yes, even WorkingMen.

"And now," she said, lifting a hibiscus flower from behind her pocket square, "We would like to wish you a fond farewell." She put the flower in her hair. "Which I am proud to join, even though I don't measure up."

Music started. She ripped away her velcroed suit, put her hands on her hips, and spread her legs to show herself fully nude save for black heels, and with a hairless crotch. She yelled, "Come on, ladies!" She said later that she had fought down the urge to respond to the take-it-offs with "Wait for it."

We began our nudenudenude stroll along the runway, each of us with hair graced by a hibiscus. As we approached the stage, waving to the crowd, Donna strutted and danced, showing moves that weren't bad at all, and shaking cute, pert B-cups that would be welcome in any human mouth. She did one nifty twice-around turn on the pole as we reached the stage and encircled her.

There was one last shtick. With all of us out in view, fully-dressed Jessie, also with a hibiscus in her hair, took the stage and said to Donna, "Boss, you're beautiful, but as the Talent Coordinator at TopHeavy, I can't let you have that dance slot November sixth." The audience booed.

Donna held out her breasts and said, "Sorry, I chickened out of getting the implants. But Jessie, who is going to dance then?"

Jessie tore away her suit and showed her new, nude body. Quickly she ran her hands up through her hair to the back of her head, ensuring the maximum elevation of her E-cups. "I am! Doublevision is back, Baby!" She flexed her pectorals, way impressive even without tassels.

Applause and raucous cheering from everyone. Anytime you can combine the support of an embattled colleague with a unified front of confident women, a comeback from injuries, promotion of a specific event, and a groin-boggling array of tits and ass, you're golden.

Of course, we in the dance corps knew this would happen. Donna had worked in the practice room starting on Friday, shaking the rust off. She got measured for the tearaway outfit. This evening, she had sat nude on the table of our epidermalist, Minna Konoff, getting her pussy meticulously depilated. Many of us got selfies with her during that, which she allowed as long as none of them were posted before her big scene. Then makeup. Hair. Rouged nipples, areolas, and labia. She wanted everyone at Eroti HQ to get knickertwisted by the sight of her, and I suspect she got her wish.

Sherry, however, faltered a bit during the prep for the nude walk. When I held out a hibiscus for her, she reverted to her earlier shy self and said, "Oh, no, it's fine for everyone else, but I shouldn't flaunt myself to the audience like that."

I peered at her, dumbfounded. "Earth to Sherry. You have rocked the world of striptease to its core, twice. Even if you think this will send you into the big world of clothed choreography, put on this flower and your sassiest heels and show 'em the beautiful naked genius that you are."

New Hibiscus smirked, took her namesake, and put it in her hair. Then she grabbed my tits and kissed them very wetly.

Amused, I asked, "And what does that mean?"

"Who knows?" She turned her ass towards me and twerked three times. She pointed at her head. "Genius. It's unfathomable."

***

From Gabe:

It was a Sunday, and the club was supposed to close at midnight, but most of the crowd tried to hang around. I suggested to my bartender friend Sam that staying open, perhaps with a few hostesses, might make for easier crowd control, and that I would cover the cost of necessities like dancer and bouncer overtime. He texted someone. A few minutes later he pointed to the video board, which lit up to state: YOU MAY STAY UNTIL 1 AM IF YOU PROMISE TO BE GOOD BOYS AND BUY MORE DRINKS. SOON SOME OF THE LADIES (FULLY DRESSED) WILL JOIN YOU.

Some of them? Damn near all of them! Rocking their evening gowns. Still sporting their hibisci (?). Best! Meet&greet! Everrrr!

Molly, in her light blue number, strolled up to me. She asked, "Your idea?"

I hugged her. "I have a knack for that sort of thing."

"Thanks for nothing," she said, nuzzling my neck. "Jessie took me up on my offer from the last hiatus, to go wherever she sends me. I'm on at eight tomorrow at NewBurlesque. Tight space, restrictions on what I can expose. I'll have to practice over there. You better start on the two hour backrub really soon."

Donna Pendergast joined us, in jeans and an 'I Love Hibiscus' t-shirt. "I didn't expect this! I don't have a fancy dress here! I look like such a bum!"

I didn't think I knew her well enough to tell her how I thought she looked. Now or earlier, when I had really enjoyed her gift of nudity. The t-shirt was thin. Her nipples declared their presence proudly.

"Mr. Morton, I have a job for you," she said, scaring me half to death. My eyes zoomed immediately to meet hers. (She's maybe eight inches shorter than I am, so from that angle the eyes may not have had to move much at all.) "I think there's a chance to make appreciation of live sexual entertainment acceptable, if not respectable. This club is already freer and easier than many others. Plenty of customers here aren't ashamed. I've seen respect and admiration for the dancers, probably more than contempt, and certainly more than aggression. I'd like you to lead a customer forum to help the process along. Your posts on the Hibiscus dance showed me you'd be good at this. Solicit input on improving the customer experience, while encouraging the respect and admiration, and enhancing the dancers' safety."

"He accepts," said Molly. "And this could apply to customers at other clubs. I'm sure he'd interface well with patrons of WorkingMen."

"Of course I accept," I said, giving Molly a sneer, concerning her last remark. "I'd do this as a volunteer."

"Good," said Pendergast, "because there won't be money for salaries."

There were so many women working the room that the bouncers might have had a problem keeping all of them from unwanted gropery. The lingering customers, however, seemed respectful and content. Molly said, "We'll start drifting back to the dressing room in ones and twos, in about fifteen minutes. That should give the guys reason to leave."

Pendergast gave Molly a resigned look. "We live in interesting times."

"You could have gone back to San Jose and hidden behind your desk," said Molly.

"No," said Pendergast, sitting on a bar stool. This brought her more in line with Molly and me, who bar-leaned. "That was getting to be more than I could stand. Once I was here, I realized how good it was not to be there." She asked Sam for a club soda.

I looked out at the public space. So many beautiful, talented women. So many stunted, self-hating men. Was this a job for Fuck-To-Save-The-World-Man? I couldn't see how fucking, done by me, worked into that.

Into my line of vision moved two glasses, which touched. Molly and Donna toasting something. I had been spacing out. Donna explained, "Molly just welcomed me into the Mistake I'll Never Make Again Club."

Molly gave me a one-mouth-corner smile. "If you're guessing, you're probably right," she said to me. "Someday I'll explain."

At one of the other bars, Sherry climbed up and began a shimmying, hip-thrusting dance. She leaned down, beckoned to someone, and grabbed a hand. Finally Denny Yarborough climbed up and joined her. The crowd around them chanted "Go Sheh-ree! Go Deh-nee!"

"He's got nice moves," said Donna.

"Ohhhh yeaaahhhh," said Molly.

Donna turned to her, an eyebrow up. I gave Molly the askance expression she wanted. She grinned her gratitude.

"Just so you'll know, Gabe," said Donna, "I don't take crap from anyone. Please make sure that when you stare at my large, protruding nipples, you do so with the utmost respect."

Maybe I did know her well enough. I looked her straight in the eyes and said, "First thing tomorrow."

***

(The end of Volume 1, MEGA PLATINUM VIP.

(Story to be continued in Volume 2, THE DANCE GAME.)