Dana Gets Screwed

It all started when I met my friend Amber in the Student Union cafeteria for lunch. I was eating a grilled cheese sandwich when she told me, almost crying, that she didn't know what to do about her psycho boss.

"He's going crazy over the Friday afternoon shift. I'm desperate for someone to cover - I have to finish my final paper for my Saturday morning class. I totally can't work! Please cover for me!"

"Amber," I said, "I don't even know where you work."

She looked at me then looked down, admitting with embarrassment that she worked at the strip club on the edge of town. I raised my eyebrow, and asked the obvious.

"As a... dancer?"

"Yeah I'm an exotic dancer and if I don't get someone to cover my shift I'm dead meat. I'll lose my job, then my apartment, then my grades will tank looking for a new job and I'll end up dropping out. You've got to help me Dana."

I was skeptical and my face showed it.

"Why are you asking your dumpy nerd friend instead of a hot girl who can dance?"

She had a long winded answer about how I shouldn't judge myself, I was sexier than I thought, and that I could borrow a costume from the other dancers, who would also do my makeup, plus I wouldn't have to dance, just serve drinks. I was still skeptical when I showed up for the job the next day. The only thing driving me forward was a tingle in my groin at the thought of prancing around in practically nothing for money. The knot in my stomach was just as impossible to ignore.

The other dancers dolled me up and I went out for drink orders, teetering in tall, shiny, black mary janes. I was writing down my first order and the guy laughed at me.

"C'mon dolly, It's just a Bud," he laughed loudly. I giggled with him, hoping the makeup hid my true feelings. I never even thought about taking orders before, let alone done so while feeling a breeze on my pussy because my tiny black skirt did nothing to hide my thong-covered parts.

I went straight to the bar rather than getting a second order and noticed the bar was starting to fill up with groups of men in twos and threes. I guess Friday afternoons were important to have a full complement of girls. I squeezed between a tall man wearing good cologne and the wall to give the barkeep my order. I reached out to grab the cup and felt a hand on my upper thigh, sliding over toward my pussy.

"Hey, no touching!" I shouted, jumping, startled. It was the scented man, but he was pretending nothing had happened. I shot him a dirty look and brought the drink back to the other smartass. How did Amber handle this night after night?

The lights dimmed even further and a girl who was introduced to me as Melissa went on stage announced as Trixie. She had long, platinum blond hair and large, natural breasts that looked enormous on her petite frame. She began dancing to a Christina Aguilera song and I stood there, stunned by how incredible she looked up there. That's why these girls danced. The money and the feeling like a star.

I tiptoed over to a group of guys to get another drink order. I planned to lean over again, figuring three dollar tips at a time might add up. Before I could even get there, one of the guys came over and grabbed me. He also grabbed at my flimsy clothes, ripping the shoulder on my shirt down, and ripping my skirt right off. Then she shoved me down into a man's lap, keeping his hands on my shoulders.

I could feel right away that the seated man had pulled his pants down, because I could sense the distinctly fleshy feel of his naked body. Specifically, his dick. Two seconds later he was inside me as I looked around the bar frantically. All of the girls I could see were in the same situation. One was on her knees being forced to fellate a tall black man. A girl in an all white outfit was being fucked from behind where she stood at the bar. The bartender was nowhere to be seen, same with the three bouncers.

"Stop!" I cried over and over. No one responded. I could feel the guy getting bigger inside me, which was very weird. I'd never been raped before, and I'd never had sex where the guy did all the work from below. I was scrambling to get up, but guys on either side were holding my arms and grabbing at my shirt and bra. They eventually ripped it them off, leaving me just in a pushed-aside thong, thigh highs and the damn shoes. One man leaned over and began to bite at my breasts, salty with my tears.

The man inside of me finally spasmed and grunted, then threw me off his lap. I fell toward the table and hit my head with a flash of pain.