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Babes

We head east and Hank proposes

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Scorpius1945

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Author’s notes:

1. This is a work of fiction. The activities and practices described in this story are not necessarily either condoned or recommended. If you choose to do anything described in real life with real people you do so at your own risk.

2. All characters are fictional and any likeness to any living person is purely coincidental. The story is purely imaginary and, to the author’s knowledge, bears no relationship to any factual occurrence.

3. For those who haven’t yet read the previous chapters, I suggest you read them to provide context before continuing with this chapter. I am open to suggestions about where you would like this story to go, if you wish to comment. Thanks.

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The following morning Hank and I awoke and by the light of day we examined our wounds from yesterday’s experiences. I was a little concerned at the marks left by the cane on my body, so decided that we should delay our departure, if that was Ok with Ted and Lex. They were happy for us to stay another week, we found out at breakfast time, so we spent the next few days enjoying normal sex together, rather than bdsm, and tossing ideas around for the next stage of our road trip, which was becoming quite a lengthy affair. By the end of the week we were ready to depart, the leaves already showing signs of changing color, signifying that winter was on its way.

It was early Fall and the weather was noticeably cooler so we were grateful for the warmth of our leather riding gear. Leaving Ted and Lex was a mixed experience; we had enjoyed their company and all they’d taught us, but we had itchy feet and knew it was time to leave. So, after dressing in our riding gear, we packed our few belongings, including the purple corset that Lex insisted I keep, into our saddle bags, gave Ted and Lex final hugs and kisses, vowing to stay in touch, and hit the road.

Hank and I had discussed our trip over the past few days, deciding that, while sleeping under a tree on the beach is fine and fun in the summer, in winter it is totally impractical; we needed to find a real apartment for winter. We were also very aware that we did not have enough money left from our circus work to see us through winter, so we needed work. We realized that our blissful holiday was almost at an end as we headed away from our friends and lovers towards civilization and the unknown.

We reached Bakersfield after a few hours and stopped to refuel us and our bikes. As we waited for our burgers and coffees, Hank began the discussion of where things were heading.

“So, honey, what’s the story with us?” he asked, “We’ve been together a while now, ever since you bribed me into your bed with a bottle of JD.” We both grinned at the memory. “Best thing that ever happened as far as I’m concerned. Seems like we’re pretty compatible, have had lots of fun and have no idea what the future will bring, which I find a bit scary. How do you see our future? Do we stay together or part? What sort of work do you think we should find to get some money? I really don’t feel like starving in a run-down shack in a city, so we need a few plans.”

“Hey, darling, not like you to want certainty in an uncertain world,” I replied with a grin, placing my hand on his. “I love you dearly, so right now you’re stuck with me unless you choose to leave, which I would really hate. We’ll find something.”

“Thanks, sweetheart, I wish I could be as confident as you seem to be. I’m good at flipping burgers but that’s about all. I dropped out of school so really have no experience or quals for anything reasonable, so I guess it’ll be burgers, again.”

“Well, we’ve had lots of experiences since we met, maybe you could use some of those to find work?”

“Yeah, right, who needs a slightly experienced pussy beater who worked in a circus?”

Our food and coffee arrived, the young waitress giving Hank’s bare chest under his partly open jacket more than a second glance, a look that was returned by Hank. We thanked her, then he continued, watching the trim waitress as she walked to clear another table. “I wouldn’t mind beating her pussy for no charge,” he chuckled.

I kicked him under the table. “Yeah, dream on. I worked as a waitress a while ago; hated it. Hated being hit on by all the guys. It made be feel like a commodity, but I guess as a stop gap measure, I could do it again. Those types of work are low paid so we wouldn’t be able to afford any sort of flash apartment, it’d be pretty basic. A real step down from Ted and Lex’s, but definitely better than either of us could afford if we went our separate ways.”

We discussed a few other possibilities but at this time saw no real solutions to our situation; we both usually had the attitude that opportunities would appear when they were needed, so we weren’t too concerned. After we finished our drinks, we left, mounted up and headed towards the big smoke. One of the advantages sincan escort and disadvantages of traveling on two wheels is that you have time to think without fear of being interrupted, but you can’t easily discuss your thoughts. All my life I’d more or less accepted that what happens, happens, and hadn’t planned too far ahead, tending to act on the spur of the moment, as I had when Hank and I first hooked up. That Hank was concerned for the future was possibly an ominous sign. Was he thinking ‘us’ instead of just of himself? Was he falling into the male partner trap of thinking he had to provide for and protect his partner, as so many men did, often developing a proprietary sense of ownership expressed, and often unconsciously stated, in expressions such as ‘my wife’ or ‘my partner’, while use of ‘the wife’ or ‘the partner’ sounded strange and somewhat impersonal, almost derogatory. These thoughts and more ran through my mind as we headed eastward, away from the golden California beaches towards the east coast.

We’d allowed five days for the trip, spending four nights on the road, none of which had been planned as it was not the holiday season and accommodation at this time of year was both cheap and plentiful, we hoped. We decided to make Las Vegas the first night and stopped on the outskirts to discuss possibilities.

“I’ve heard of Caesar’s Palace and The Flamingo, so I’d really like to go there if that’s OK with you,” I suggested.

“Sure, sounds good to me. We could go to the casino and maybe make some money as well.”

“Yeah, maybe. Probably lose more than you made,” I cautioned, “No, it’d be great just for the experience.”

Hank had the GPS, so set our destination and led the way. We booked a queen room settled in, then headed to the pool to wash off the grime from our trip. It felt strange having to wear my bikini after swimming naked for the last few months, and Hank disliked having to wear shorts as well. The pool was almost empty but we decided that we’d better adhere to normal convention and keep our sexual activities behind doors; we didn’t want to be evicted before we’d really settled in.

After dinner we dressed in our only good sets of clothing and hit the town. As we thought, it was a city where the party never stopped. Casinos were everywhere, as were strip clubs. Looking at these, I suddenly had an idea.

“Honey,” I said, stopping on the sidewalk and gripping Hank’s arm, “You’re concerned about money, why don’t I work in a night club, or even a strip club? I’d get a lot more than working as a waitress, and probably get some perks as well if I was willing.”

I grinned at him, thinking that, as an exhibitionist, I would undoubtedly enjoy dancing naked in front of a group of randy guys.

“Yeah, and what about us? What’d I do while you were off stripping and being fondled by all those greasy customers?”

“Oh, darling, why are you being so negative? I’d come home to you every night; you wouldn’t lose me, I wouldn’t run off with some cowboy with a big cock.”

I had no idea why he was suddenly so possessive and negative. Asking him would not work; he couldn’t tell me his problem when he didn’t know he had one. He needed something to cheer him up, maybe a visit to a strip club would help. With no thought of anything but to cheer him up, I dragged him to the nearest club, not even noticing its name, paid our entry, and walked through the dimly lit passage to the main room, where music was loud but was still almost drowned out by customers talking and yells from the crowd of mainly guys who were calling out suggestion to the two strippers on stage as they paraded in garments that covered very little of their lithe bodies.

“You been in one of these before?” shouted Hank into my ear.

“No,” I yelled back.

“Me neither.”

We made our way to the bar and ordered drinks at their overpriced rate, watching casually as inevitably the two girls ended up naked, paraded around the stage for a short time, hugged each other suggestively, held hands, bowed, then scampered out the back of the stage, collecting discarded garments on the way. It was only then that the sound decreased to a dull roar.

“Do you really think you could do that?” asked Hank.

“Sure, why not? It’s only skin; they’re only people. They’re not allowed to touch or they’ll be kicked out; see the signs everywhere? As you know, I love showing off my body to people.”

Hank didn’t reply, but instead he gestured to the barmaid, who bent forward to hear him. She listened, looked at me a couple of times, then she gestured to me.

“What did you say?” I asked him hurriedly.

“I asked him if you could have a go on stage,” he replied with a huge grin, “Off you go; your opportunity to become a star.”

I laughed, thinking first off ‘What the hell do I do now?’, which was closely followed by ‘Why not?’. I couldn’t think of a good reason on the spur of the moment so I gave him a quick kiss and met the barmaid at the end of ankara escort the bar. She led me upstairs to meet a guy who said his name was Tony.

“So, you want to dance?” he asked.

“Well, actually my partner put me up for this, but yes, I’d like to dance on stage.”

“What’s your name?”

“Celeste.”

“Hmmm, a good name, you could keep it or choose a stage name. You got any experience?”

“No, none, but I’m quite happy to show my body.”

Tony looked me up and down. “Looks good, covered, let’s see what you got.”

Fortunately, I had no qualms about anyone seeing me naked, so I simply stripped in front of him, trying to include a few moves which, in my naivety, I thought might be tantalizing, until I was naked. His eyes took in my body as I stood straight and thrust my breasts in his direction.

“Turn around,” he told me after a short time.

I did and felt his eyes looking at me. “What’re the marks on your ass?”

“Cane marks from some recent playtime activities.”

“Oh, you Ok being caned?”

“Yeah, sure, I love it.”

“You’d do it on stage in front of the customers out there?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Bend over; touch the floor.”

I did and he crouched down. “You had your pussy caned too?”

“Yeah. Hurt like hell.”

“You let someone beat your pussy out there too?”

“Sure, why not?”

“You want a job?”

“How long and what’s the pay?”

“Well, we got a slave scene where two girls bring on a captive then strip her, but we’ve never had anyone who was willing to endure any real punishment on stage. If you’d let the guards beat you a little, like you obviously let someone beat you, it’d give us an edge over the competition. You could stay as long as you liked, we’d do some training to teach you a few striptease moves, you’d have free accommodation upstairs and you’d get paid, say a hundred a night plus whatever you wanted to make on the side in gratuities. We’ve got a few private cubicles downstairs that our dancers can use with special customers if they wish; from what I hear, that’s where they make their real money.”

‘Can my partner live with me upstairs?”

“Sure, why not. Other girls have their partners or boyfriends staying with them so I don’t see a problem. But first I want to see you on stage in 20 minutes, OK?”

“Ok.”

He stuck his head out the door and called for Trixie. After a few seconds a scantily clad girl arrived, looked me up and down as I stood there naked, holding my clothes in my hand, and Tony asked her to get me ready for an on-stage act with Jess and Harmony. I followed Trixie downstairs to the back room where I met with Jess and Harmony, dressed in what seemed to be prison warder clothing.

“Celeste is your prisoner tonight,” she told them, “She’s apparently willing to let you beat her with whips and canes wherever you like.”

A lump formed in my throat as I heard this; what had I let myself in for? Jess and Harmony looked me over and grinned.

“We’re mighty pleased to meet ya,” said Jess, who seemed to be the leader of the two, “You like being whipped and caned?”

“Sometimes, by some people,” I replied carefully.

“Well, normally Paula’s our prisoner, but she’s sick tonight, so you’ll be her replacement. Paula doesn’t let us beat her, so we just have to make believe. But with you it’ll be different and for the first time we’ll be able to really beat our prisoner. That Ok with you?”

I didn’t like the idea that two strangers could just beat me however they saw fit, yet part of me was happy that I was once again going to feel the painful kiss of whip and cane.

“Not really, I need a lot more info first. How many strokes, how hard, where, for a start?”

“Ok,” interjected Harmony, “Let’s start at the beginning. Come over here.”

Harmony pulled an outfit off a hook, handing me a pair of very brief G string panties and flimsy, fabric bra, both of which I put on.

“We rip these off you so we use a new set each night,” explained Harmony, “This goes over the top.”

I took the grey, torn and totally disreputable shift that Harmony handed me and pulled it over my head. Gone were my curves and lovely body, hidden by this ragged dress.

“Good, you’re ready. As you can see, Jess and I are dressed like prison guards and we drag you onto the stage. We’ll hold you under your arms, so you just need to go limp and drop to the ground when we let you go. You’ll have ankle cuffs and hand cuffs on so you won’t be able to run away or anything. I’ll be carrying a multi tail whip, Jess will have a cane. We prance around on stage for a bit, removing our outer layers until we’re dressed in our underclothes, then we return to you and haul you to your feet. We remove your ankle cuffs so you can stand and your wrist cuffs so we can remove your dress, leaving you standing in your bra and panties. Then we hitch your wrists to an overhead hook and begin interrogating you. You, of course, refuse to cooperate and after a while Jess etimegut escort will whip you on your back and stomach. You still do not cooperate so I rip off your bra and strike you across your boobies with a cane. In the past both blows have been exceedingly light so is it Ok tonight if we make them for real?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied, wondering how hard ‘for real’ could be after the punishment I’d enjoyed at Ted and Lex’s.

“Then Jess rips off your panties and we cane your bare ass and whip your bare back, five strokes on each while we dance about and strip completely naked as well.”

“Ok, so you’re not going to cane my pussy?” I asked, immediately wondering why I’d asked such a leading question.

Harmony looked shocked. “No way. That’d hurt like hell.”

“Ok. Yes, it did hurt like hell. But if you wanted to you could turn me to the audience, kick my feet wide apart and give me a stroke or two on my bare, widespread pussy with the multi tailed whip.”

“Really? Well, I know that’d be great finale, if that’s Ok with you. None of the girls like showing their pussy like that and to have it wide open and whipped, well, we’d get guys here like you’d never believe.”

A guy came over and announced, “On in five,”.

“Right, so we all know what we’re doing? Celeste, you can scream, as much as you want when we’re dragging you in and when we beat you, the more the better. All good?”

I agreed that it was all good, then I lay on the floor, they cuffed my wrists and ankles, collected their whip and cane, then we were on. The music played and I was dragged across the floor onto the stage by my ‘guards’.

The crowd of guys roared, the symbolism of a helpless woman being subjected to unknown punishments suggested only by the props is enough to get most guys with any imagination, and with a belly full of over-priced alcohol, baying for blood. I lay still as Harmony and Jess danced around on the stage, carrying their whip and cane and very slowly stripping the uniform clothing from each other until they were scantily clad, moving their bodies suggestively and interacting in a small way with those closest to the stage. As I was temporarily out of the limelight, I surreptitiously looked around for Hank, seeing him in about the third row from the stage. I caught his eye and winked; he responded with a little wave. Suddenly, amidst the cacophony of sound, on stage in front of all these men, about to be stripped and beaten, I felt safe, because he was there. I hadn’t realized just how much our lives and hearts were interwoven until that moment.

Jess and Harmony returned to me and released my cuffs, then lifted me like a sack of potatoes to an upright position. They wasted little time in removing my dress, then attached my hands to the hook above the stage, which was low enough to allow me to spread my legs later. They then pranced around me, waving the whip and cane threateningly as they started to ask me questions. I looked at the floor, refusing to answer. This went on for a few minutes, during which time Jess and Harmony pretended to become angrier until Jess shook out the whip and swung it at my lower back. It wasn’t a hard blow and only stung a little where the ends impacted against my left hip, but the effect on the crowd was amazing; for a split second there was silence. Then I screamed, my wonderful, ear-piercing scream. The crowd paid greater attention to what was happening on stage, conversations seemed to pause, even the music seemed to quieten a little. A few seconds later Harmony asked me a question and I once more hung from the hook, silent, so she ripped off my bra then laid her cane over my breasts and asked the question again. I remained silent, despite several calls of ‘Tell her’ from the floor, then she swung back and landed a single cane stroke across the tops of my breasts. Compared with the strokes I had received during the last few days, it was weak, but nevertheless it made a loud crack as it landed and I screamed once more right on cue as the crowd became even more hushed.

I lifted my head and looked around at their response. There seemed to be an air of expectation, nobody quite knowing what would happen next. It was obvious that many of the clients had been here before, as well as to other clubs, but they had never seen this sort of act where one of the performers allowed herself to be physically punished on stage. I saw Tony at the back of the hall and he was smiling, not just from the act, I’m sure, but for the potential income the act would generate on subsequent nights. I made a mental note to up my wages if the numbers increased substantially.

My thoughts returned to my apparent ‘predicament’ as Jess once again resumed questioning, to which I do not respond. In apparent frustration, she ripped off my panties then swung her whip so it hit my ass hard with a resounding crack. It actually did hurt so my scream from that stroke wasn’t only acting. I was now naked on stage, feeling the gaze of the very many men in the audience who would probably have enjoyed me in bed with them instead of watching me be whipped and caned on stage; undoubtedly also there were a few sadistic types who were very happy with the way the show was proceeding.

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