**PART TEN**
Just like that, I was back downstairs.
Hand in hand with Heather, though there wasn’t any reason for her to keep a grip on me. I had already made my choice. I was mostly bothered by the seemingly friendly and casual way her fingers laced between mine, when she and I were anything but friends. And, while I’d never admit it out loud, I was also really annoyed that she took so much money. Money that I had *earned,* at the cost of degrading myself.
While most of the return journey was a willing one, my pace subconsciously slowed as we neared the living room. Was I really about to go back out there? Strut my stuff on the stage and give countless more lap dances to strangers and old classmates? Apparently so, because Heather gave a hard yank on my arm to ‘encourage’ me to turn the corner with her.
We were met with a strange combination of positive and negative reactions to my arrival. Half the room clearly didn’t appreciate the fact that I ran away and spoiled the show, but the other half was glad it was going to continue. The dark haired girl I was attached to, however, had a plan to win the others over. Walking me over to the DJ, Heather grabbed the microphone Autumn was using before, then changed course to bring us both onto the wide coffee table that served as the makeshift stage.
“Hey, be nice!” Heather exclaimed. She stood on the elevated surface with me, speaking into the mic as we remained positioned side by side, hand in hand. “Bella just got a little stage fright. This is only her sixth time stripping, by the way, and her first time doing a private party! You want her to keep going, right?”
This earned more cheers than before, while I did everything in my power to keep my jaw from dropping. Something about putting a number on it made my fake identity for the night feel a lot more real. Suddenly, I had a ‘backstory,’ and who wouldn’t believe her? I was a dance major, after all. And everything I had done so far only breathed life into the lie, as did the image of me standing in my lingerie with a bunch of dollar bills stuffed inside. I nervously scanned the sea of faces, spotting Autumn in her green bra in the same armchair I had given her a lap dance in. She seemed more than content to let Heather run the show in her stead.
Going on, Heather said, “Funny story. Bella had a bit of a crush on me in high school. Unfortunately for her, I’m super straight, but who can blame her? Be honest, people. Who else had a bit of a crush on me when I wore those short shorts and danced my heart out?”
Once again, there were a good amount of cheers coming from the crowd. It was true. Not the part about the crush; our dance team uniforms didn’t exactly leave much to the imagination, and Heather was objectively hot. Besides, it was a confident girl polling a big audience. Even people in the room who didn’t know her were probably part of the response just from the mental image of an attractive girl wearing skimpy shorts and flaunting her body.
As for me, I was mortified. Not just from once again being the center of attention while half naked, but also from the implication that I was into girls. There’s nothing wrong with any given sexuality, but that didn’t mean that I wanted to be seen as gay or bi when I was only into guys! I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but Heather was already running with it.
“Anyway, it’s New Year’s, and Bella definitely needs a midnight kiss! So, any girls interested? Let me know, and we’ll let our sexy stripper pick one of you at random. Sorry, boys. You’ll just have to enjoy the show. Okay, Bells. On with the show!”
Just like that, Heather let go of my hand and hopped off the stage. Taking that as a cue, the DJ turned the music back up, and both Heather and Autumn gestured for me to get to it.
The dancer within me was at least able to begin slowly moving my hips to the beat, but the external me was stiff and unable to commit to much more than that. I was going to have to kiss a girl?! It had been awkward enough straddling a few members of my own sex to give them the lap dance they paid for, but that hadn’t meant anything. It was all for show, and I was honestly guessing that most of the girls outside of Autumn had done it more for the attention, and/or to tease and treat the nearby guys. Not that a kiss would mean anything either, of course, but that was something so personal. It would be a notable first of mine, witnessed by Autumn, Heather, and a sea of other witnesses. And it would be caught on camera and video, too.
But there was the other potential fate–having all my instructors see me using my talents for something so unprofessional and improper. The thought of that alone got me moving in the meantime, and I began to work my body to the beat. This, at least, felt familiar and more comfortable than the alternative. I’d much rather be dancing by myself than giving a dance to literally anyone in the current crowd. Dancing in a thong, however, wasn’t quite the same as dancing in short shorts. I was keenly aware of how basically the entirety of my ass was on display to the whole room, which made it a lot more difficult to get lost in the music.
I tried to meet eyes with Autumn, and even considered going over to give her another lap dance if it meant we could share a private word, but I never got the chance. One of the boys in the front row stood up and walked over to slip a dollar bill into my thong, which reminded everyone else that they could do the same.
—————-
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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/10mr7iu/the_dancer_part_ten_f19f18_dubcon_exhibitionism