Date: Thu, 16 Sep 2004 13:22:15 EDT
From: ArtHill579@aol.com
Subject: "High School Blues" Part 29

Disclaimer: This story is basically a fantasy involving humiliation, mild
violence, and sexual activity between teenage boys. If you find such material
offensive or in violation of the laws of your state/country, please don't read
any further. Remember to practice safe sex: this story is a fantasy in which
STDs don't exist!

(c) Art M. Hill ArtHill579@aol.com All rights reserved (2004).
If you enjoy this story, please email me.

Please support the Nifty Archives.

***********************************************

Joe Gets to Strip (part 1)

I really didn't think Mike and Jimmy were serious when I overheard them
talking about "selling my ass". I mean, who would do such a thing? But I
underestimated their depravity (or should I say the lengths they would go to make a
buck) as well as their influence over me. They had trained me more than I
realized, so that when they gave a command I hardly thought about what I was doing. I
didn't even think any more about disobeying them.

I did have a sinking feeling in my gut when they told me the following
Saturday that we were going back to the biker club and that we would meet Jerry,
Larry, and Red there along with their buddies. That combination bode no good for
me, and I suspected I was in for another face-fucking session with its
accompanying humiliation. Little did I know they had much more planned for me.

Mike had ordered me once again to get permission from my parents to stay over
at his house that evening, so I figured it was going to be a long night. I
sighed and felt the familiar conflict going on within me. Did I want this or
not? Unfortunately, my lust (what I now called my slut side) had such hold on me
that I got a boner as soon as I heard where we were going.

"Look at the fag," said Jimmy, "he's so turned on by the idea of going back
to the club that he's almost ready to shoot. That's good," he said to me, "
cause you're gonna get a real work out tonight. You should love it."

I noticed that Mike was carrying a black leather satchel, but had no idea
what was in it. "Okay Zits," Mike said, "I think we're ready; let's roll!"

I climbed on the back of Jimmy's bike and grasped him around the waist
inhaling the aroma of his black leather jacket. "Watch it, fag," he said, "remember
what I told you the last time about pushing you off my bike if I feel even a
hint of your damn boner."

I thought Red was a reckless driver, but he didn't even compare with Jimmy. I
was afraid that he didn't need to push me off, but that I would probably fall
off--right along with Jimmy. My friend up front, however, was laughing like a
maniac as he felt me tighten my grip at each curve, and could hear me gasp
when we took corners at an insane angle. I found myself longing to reach our
destination, no matter what was in store for me there, just so that I could get
off that damn motorbike.

We pulled into the gravel parking lot moments later and saw a large crowd of
pick-ups and motorcycles filling almost the entire parking lot. " Looks like
you're gonna have a big audience tonight," Mike said mysteriously.

As soon as we entered the bar I saw, through the smoke, Jerry's crowd
occupying the same corner table as last time. They waved to us and shouted greetings
as we approached them.

"Hey, dudes, sup?" said Jerry. "We've been waiting for the fag to really
get the show going. Why don'tcha get him ready and we'll be right in."

"Ready?" I said to Mike, "ready for what?"

"You'll see," Mike said, "now just follow me."

I followed Mike into the large back room where strippers were entertaining
the mostly male audience, which was large and enthusiastic, yelling and
whistling as the ladies began to peel off their clothes, one layer at a time. Some of
it they simply dropped on the floor, some they threw into the crowd, which
would cheer and then tussle over the flimsy garments. Music blared from loud
speakers as the strippers gyrated around poles set in the floor of the stage. They
would frequently approach the crowd, that would try their best to cop a feel
as they stuffed money in the ladies' thongs. The strippers, however, seemed
well-trained in getting their tips with a minimal amount of contact from the
fans. Meanwhile the customers were guzzling down beer and hard liquor, stoking
their rowdiness and lust. Bouncers stood ready on the edges of the crowd.

Several of them glared at me as I passed by with my wild pink mohawk. This
was definitely a red-neck crowd through and through, I thought nervously.

Mike grinned, then took me by the arms and led me into a small dressing room
to the left of the stage. At that point he opened the satchel he had been
carrying. As he emptied its contents on a table I stared in disbelief. There was a
pair of skin-tight brown leather pants, a billowing white shirt with ruffled
cuffs, a floppy red bow tie, a sombrero, and high healed red boots with taps
on them.

"Put `em on, Crawford," Mike ordered. "This is your costume for tonight."

"But Sir," I began to object, "why am I going to wear these clothes? You're
not gonna send me out on the stage dressed like this, are you?"

"Hell, yes!" he shouted over the music. "Don't worry, they have fags
perform here all the time, and if they're good they can make almost as much as the
sluts. So you better be good `cause if you're not they'll beat the shit out of
you."

"But, I've never performed before. I wouldn't know what to do" I said
nervously.

"Just do what you did at my house that night when you got the tats. That was
great," said Mike, beginning to lose his patience. "When they see those tats
and the tit rings they won't care what you're doin. I'm hopin' somebody out
there is into making porn, because man, you'd be perfect."

Resignedly, I got dressed. At that point, some real fem guy came in. He had
spiked purple hair and black satin pants and matching blouse. "Honey," he
said, "Let's give you a quick make-over so you really look your best. By the way:
love that hair!" Mike laughed.

"What do you mean, `make over'? I asked.

"Do your eyes and lips, and put some makeup on you to cover over all those
zits (Mike smirked)…I can't wait to get started on you," he lisped.

Mike just shook his head and laughed. "See ya out front, `honey'" he
chuckled. "You're in good hands. Just relax and remember to rock that body."

*****************************************

"What's your name, honey," the girl, ah, guy asked, "mine's Maxine."

"Joe," I managed to stutter.

"Well, Joey, sit right here. I'm gonna start with your eyes so lose those
glasses. Oh, your eyes are really pretty, but wait till you see what Maxine does
with them."

Within fifteen minutes I had eye shadow and fake lashes, pink rouge, and
brilliant red lip stick. All that color seemed to complement my mohawk, huh! To
complete the picture I was given long hanging earrings and huge foam rubber
boobs that I strapped on like a bra. I looked in the mirror. Although everything
was a bit blurry without my glasses, I could see enough that I blushed right
through the rouge!

"A little nervous, are we?" Maxine said, "here, this always helps." Before
I knew what was happening she … he stuck a bottle of poppers directly under my
nose and in my surprise I breathed deeply (like so many times before!)
Immediately I began to feel light-headed. After another couple of snorts and I was
feeling positively sexy, and almost eager to dance for that crowd of rowdy
bikers.

"You're comin' up next, dear; they'll be two bitches, one on either side of
you, so just take your cue from them. All you got to do is start dirty
dancing to the music, and then start taking off your clothes. Do it real slow so the
guys think they're getting their money's worth. Tease `em a bit and get
flirty"

"But they'll think I'm a fag. This bunch looks like they'd eat a fag for a
snack!"

"Now don't you worry none, hun," said Maxine. "You give `em what they want,
and they'll be real nice to you."

"But how far do I go?" I said, a bit curious now. "I don't have to get
naked, do I?"

"Heaven's no!" Maxine squeaked. "All you do is strip down to your panties
and then shake your tush real good. And DON'T get a boner. Those guys are
straight. They don't want to see your dingy. Besides we could get shut down and
lose our license if you did that, so just don't get carried away. Think modesty,
honey, MO-DES-TY!"

The two girls came into the dressing room to freshen up. They looked at me
but said nothing, as if they were used to this kind of thing. I was feeling a
little better at that point.

When the girls were ready, Maxine led us to the stage entrance. Remember
Joey, you're in the middle…girls, help Joey out when you start. He's new at this.
The girls shrugged and headed for the stage with me bringing up the rear.

I was kind of in a daze as I followed the girls onto the stage under the
harsh lights that suddenly started swirling in different colors around us. My
blurred vision didn't help.

The girls took up there positions, wrapping themselves sensuously around the
poles, while I stood in the center. The music started, real slow at first and
then picking up speed. There was uproarious laughter as the guys saw me for
the first time. Through the haze I could see Mike, Jimmy, and the others doubled
over from laughing. I don't know whether it was the poppers or maybe I
discovered a hidden exhibitionist inside me, but I immediately started gyrating to
the music and smiling broadly at the lusty crowd.

I felt a bit like a cross between Zorro and one of Charlie's Angels. The idea
kind of turned me on, and I started thinking about what I would do next. What
I somehow didn't remember at the time (blame the poppers) was the tats, and
especially what they said…

Now that I was on stage, the guys were getting more and more rowdy and the
bouncers were ready in case there was any kind of trouble.

I started to pick up the beat. First I pulled the sombrero way down over my
face, then I pulled up the brim and looked sexily out at the crowd and winked.
There were a few cat-calls and hoots, but most of the crowd seemed to be into
it: they were curious to see what I would do next--so was I!

I started to get inventive. I took off my hat (causing my mohawk to spring up
dramatically) and began to twirl it around. I suggestively held it over my
privates as I wiggled my hips. I suddenly threw my hat into the audience and
then loudly asked for the guy who caught it to throw it back. So we started to
play Frisbee for awhile, much to the delight of the crowd, especially since I
was stumbling in my high-heeled boots. All things considered--especially with my
lack of 20/20 vision--I thought I did pretty well. When the hat wasn't
returned, I figured that I needed to move on. I pulled down my boots, one at a time,
twirled them around and gave them the old heave-ho, hoping I wouldn't take
anyone's head off…that would have finished me off for sure. I had red nail
polish on my toes (and fingers), compliments of Maxine.

Meanwhile the girls, not to be outdone, started their own strip. The guys
were torn between lust for the broads and curiosity and contempt for me. They
kept looking back and forth like they were at a tennis match. I smiled to myself.
This might be more interesting than I thought.

The arms of my blouse were detachable, so I peeled off first one and then the
other, balled them up, and threw them into the crowd. There was hysterical
laughter when someone in the crowd shouted: "Shave your arms, honey!"

 My pants were designed to break open at the thigh, leaving me with leather
short-shorts. I pulled the hidden strings and the legs of the pants suddenly
dropped away. Then I slowly shimmied out of the shorts. At this point I was
definitely the center of attention. Maxine had thoughtfully provided me with
frilly pink panties (almost the same color as my pubes!) and the sight of them made
the guys go into hysterics. Luckily, my legs were relatively hairless or
somebody would have stormed the stage for sure.

The ladies were way ahead of me with tips. Now that I had stripped down to my
panties, I decided to get into the action. I swayed across the floor (mostly
from the poppers) to where the guys were hanging over the stage. I leaned down
and a guy grabbed my falsies and almost tore them off. I grabbed the money
out of his hands while he yelled: "What kind of titties are those--they feel
like a water bed! Come back here, you bitch, I wanna feel `em again!"

Now I was getting a little nervous. As I turned around the guy's buddy
grabbed my ankle and tripped me. I fell down on my boobs and felt like I would
bounce back up again. The guys began to haul me over toward the edge of the stage,
tearing at my panties. Just then one of the bouncers intervened and pushed the
rough necks back.

Now everybody wanted to feel my boobies so I made my rounds of the stage,
letting each guy take a quick squeeze as he stuffed five or ten bucks in my
panties. I had to keep moving or I would have ended up over some guy's shoulder.
Besides, I didn't want anyone to see my pink pubes or I would've been toast for
sure. Quickly I headed back to center stage.

Although I was a bit shaken by this point, I was determined to finish my act.
I slowly pulled off my blouse, exposing the bulging bra. The room broke into
deafening laughter when I unhooked the bra and threw it into the crowd where
there was a mad scramble for it. I heard a few cries of "fuckin' fag" but, for
the most part, the crowd was taking the whole thing more good-naturedly than
I had expected.

Now came the moment of truth. I started to take off the last piece of
clothing protecting my tats (which I suddenly remembered) and tit rings. But I had to
do it. If I didn't I was afraid Mike and Jimmy would beat me within an inch
of my life and then rip the tee off anyway. All of those thoughts were going
through my head as I slowly raised my tee.

All of a sudden the spotlight cut down to a narrow beam which was focused
directly on me. Mike or Jimmy must have cued in the light guy. Now I was truly
the center of attention. Out of the corners of my eyes I could see the girls
almost pouting since they had literally been left in the dark. I began to think I
might be better off if I was there too! For a moment the silence was almost
deafening. Then I heard Mike shout: "Turn around you wuss and show `em what
you got!"

(to be continued)