It is fine to indulge in fantasies on an intellectual level, when those fetishes are acted upon the expectations never match the reality. My name is Sidney Mortimer, I work as an engineer, my wife is paralegal we make good money, the bills are all paid and we’re comfortable. My wife is an attractive woman, she was, before I met her, a stripper in some southern state these days some of her tone is gone but the shape and curve are all intact. She lights a room when she walks in, when she smiles the world sighs in response. How she got hooked up with me in the first place has always been a matter of dumb luck, mostly on my part. I for the life of me have no idea what women see in men, we tend to be boorish misshapen slobs who only act on the basest of impulses. Why would I want to share her? It’s a fetish. It’s a base impulse. On an intellectual level it is arousing to think of her forgetting all we’ve meant and been to each other and letting go to those dangerous urges. It’s a voyeuristic fantasy. It’s also a control fantasy in that I want her to forget, but still be bound to me. Fantasies are like that, contradictions.
We were at supper; scraps of crust and the odd glazed carrot were all that remained of the meal. Half way through the bottle of Shiraz the conversation got round to sex as it so often does. “If you want to get creative we still have those floggers, oh and the handcuffs.”
“No that’s not what I meant. I want the extreme, what really turns you on?” She sipped the wine and smiled.
“What really turns me on? Well, I’ve always been attracted to black women.”
“No, I mean like a kink, something a little dirty. Being attracted to black chicks doesn’t count.”
I smiled and that’s really where this whole thing started. I said, “I would like you to forget our marriage, just for a little while and be kind of, um, you know…”
“Say it, what?” She giggled.
“A slut. Forget our marriage and be a slut.” Georgia grimaced, “Well, my thought was it’s voyeurism right, watching my wife get cozy with another man, but then your vows would get in the way, you’d feel uncomfortable, not fully commit. So I think forget, totally, completely, forget we were married, forget our vows forget our life together.” Georgia is still quiet, “I mean you asked, it’s dirty and a little creepy and it turns me on.” I gulp at my glass, fearing the next sentence.
Georgia coolly sips at her wine. ” It sounds fun. Really scary, but fun.”
“It’s just a fantasy.”
“We could do it.” I did a double take. “I know a doctor, she does hypnosis, colleagues have recommended her for quitting smoking, back problems, all sorts of stuff. We should do it.”
She nods, “Down the line I get my turn though. Dirty, scary, weird little kink whatever it is, deal?” I nodded my agreement.
Doctor Wilhelmina Novaris is the hypnotherapist Georgia spoke of. It was all very professional, she took me into her office and told me in specific what she could do and what to expect. She showed me testimonials, waivers, even in erotic fantasy there is bureaucracy, and finally she gave me a price tag all of which I agreed to. We scheduled the appointment for the following day, Friday. My wife and I arrived and the doctor asked that I wait outside while she worked with Georgia. I was uncomfortable with it but she said my presence would have a detrimental effect on the procedure so I agreed. I heard the doctor’s voice, but there was no distinction, no annunciation to it, juts a collection of consonants and dull tenor tones. After maybe an hour the doctor called me in. Georgia was sitting on the couch smiling I sat down next to her.
“Everything went fine, I’ve given her a couple of code words to initiate the post hypnotic suggestions and a few mental triggers to reinforce the suggestions so you shouldn’t have to come back for awhile. Georgia could you step out? This’ll only take a minute.” Georgia nodded, I smiled at her my heart was pounding in my chest, she kissed me and left the room.
“She seemed a bit out of it still.”
“That will pass, now it is important that you remember these words, they are triggers one turns her on the other off, pretty simple.” I nod I can barely hear over my heartbeat. “Concupiscence will activate the post hypnotic trigger.” I repeated the word to my self over and over in my head the shut off word sounded like shadow, I nodded and stood up I shook her hand and Georgia and I left.
In the car I asked, “What did it feel like?”
She shrugged, “It didn’t feel like anything, I was sitting there thinking she wasn’t hypnotizing me then I kind of drifted off and it was done.”
“It took an hour.”
She shrugged, “It didn’t feel like an hour.”
When we got home we did the usual things but it was all autopilot, we were anticipating the night. Then the time came to get ready, it was very surreal, both of us knowing that soon Georgia would be essentially a different person. The car ride was silent; this is a part of the fantasy that went against my expectation. We were supposed to be having fun. This felt more like a wake or the anticipation of some imminent disaster. Finally I spoke, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
She nodded, “I’m sorry I’m not more talkative. It’s just, I don’t know, I feel like a stranger in my own body. This thing is exciting beyond belief. I don’t know what I’m going to do, if this works. I don’t know who I’ll hit on I don’t know what I’m going to be into. It’s crazy and I owe it to myself to give this thing a try.” She looked at me hard.
“I’ll just watch, and I’ll always be close.” I stroked her thigh, “Then we’re going home to fuck.” She finally laughed.
We arrived at the club, it was dark and filled with decadence, it had been a long time since I saw such a display of skin. Georgia clung to his arm, “let’s have one drink before we’re strangers.” She kissed me and we made our way to the bar.
“Cold feet?” She made a little gesture with her thumb and pointer finger.
We drank our drinks and I proceeded into what I felt would be my masterstroke. Get her worked up before sending her off. We made out like teenagers against a wall near the back of a club, I bit her neck and caressed her ass. She grinded up against my groin and breathlessly whispered “Do it now.”
I gripped her arms hard and turned her away from me fast, dizzying, and whispered into her ear “Concupiscence”
I’m at a club like so many I’ve been to before. Everyone here looks incredibly fuckable. There’s a guy behind me that looks like he’s coming down from a blowjob. I think it’s time to get a drink. I saunter to the bar feeling sexy. I lean in letting my tits heave forward as I order my drink. The bartender hands me my drink as I pull out my cash a guy next to me puts his hand on the cash. “Hey baby, let me take care of that for you.” I can see his hard on through his pants. He’s wearing a pair of dirty leather pants no shirt, sexy chest, and he looks like he hasn’t bathed in a couple of days.
“Sure.” I say and he pays for my drink.
“Do you dance?” He asks, I nod and he pulls me against him I exhale, his touch is electric. His hands linger around the small of my back and he holds me close. I smell sweat and nicotine off his skin. I break apart from him and step back, he grabs me around the waist and pulls me back into him, he kisses me and my knees wobble.
He leads me upstairs to a couch, sits down and pats his lap. I take the cue and straddle him.
“What’s your name?” He asks.
“Georgia.” I grind against his lap as I chug at my drink.
The music pulses through the club making every part of me vibrate as I rock on his lap. He puts his hands on my stomach and slowly finds his way to my tits. It feels heavenly. Only a handful of people are around, some of them are watching some are engaged in their own dry humps. I stick my tongue down his throat and his hands creep under my top. I grind against him I can feel every bump and vein of his cock through my silk panties. My cunt is crying out, I pull him close and say, “We need to go now!” He nods and I take him off the couch.
As we’re leaving I hear someone screaming something and it occurs to me the voice sounds familiar but when I look back I don’t recognize him. Leather pants grabs my ass, I squeal.
The man who was screaming runs after us he’s yelling “shadow” at the top of his lungs. The bouncer tries to stop him but the man is too wiry and manages to get around him. My man cracks the screaming man across the face; he goes down like a sack of bricks. If I weren’t already horny, I’d be dripping at this display.
Finally we get out of the club and into his car. “That was so hot.” I say to him and he fingers me from the driver’s seat. I hump against his hand and pull his other hand to my tits. He climbs on top of me, still fingering me, we kiss a sloppy drool covered kiss.
Out of the blue he stops, “Is this gonna cost me money Georgia?” I shake my head, totally dumbfounded by his question. “What do you do?”
“I’m a stripper. I don’t take money for fucking.” He seems agreeable to this concept. He climbs off of me, puts the car in drive and we’re off.
When we arrive at his loft I’m instantly on him, and in return he’s tearing at my top. With my tits free he sucks at them, rips my panties away with one hand and grabs my ass with the other. I howl in ecstasy and push him across the room and onto his bed. He smiles, surprised by my strength, I stride onto the bed at this point wearing nothing but my miniskirt, he’s pulling his pants down clumsily as I approach. Standing over him I lower myself onto his rigid dick. Dawn broke before I passed out with him still inside me.
* * *
I rubbed my jaw and stood up after the guy hit me. I don’t know how much time had passed. As I stood a mohawked punk raised his glass to me. My head was throbbing. She didn’t even look at me, that man hit me and she was completely focused on him. I was in a panic, the room was spinning; I threw up all over the floor. The mohawked guy chortled behind me. She was gone, she left me, first I was furious but then my fury dwindled to self-hatred. How could I have been so stupid; how could I not have seen that coming. I put her in this position and she was out there with that man.
I pulled my cell phone from my coat and raced out the door once my composure had returned. The hypnotist, Wilhelmina, she had to help me. I called her, no one answered finally it went to voicemail. She gave an emergency number on the voicemail, I dialed it it also went to voicemail; I left a message at both. After that there was nothing more I could do, so I went home.
The apartment was quiet and hollow. I crawled into my bed and did something I hadn’t done in years, I cried.
* * *
Light wakes me up. There is a skylight above the bed birds had been using it as a toilet for some time by the look of it. I woke up looking into a kaleidoscope of bird shit. I got up and snooped around the place. I suspected he was an artist, and I was proven correct by his collection of paintings. It looks like he was working on a self-portrait; a mirror was set next to a canvas marked with a charcoal skeleton.
I use his shower. All he has is bar soap and mousse, but it’s enough for my purposes. I think about the night and the club and the man I rode all night while I lather myself up. I love my breasts, and my butt; I haven’t felt this sexy in a long time. I finish my shower and look at myself, naked, in the mirror. My face seemed strange to me. Like it was my face but the expression was different, lustier than I remember.
He is snoring quietly when I get out of the bathroom. He asked my name, but I don’t know his. Not that I want to get into something serious but it’s nice to know who I’m fucking. Oh God it was good I’ll definitely hook up with him again. He’s naked and the covers are strewn across the room. His cock is small now flaccid, but I think I should change that, a going away present.
I kiss the tip of his penis gently then lightly lick from the base of his shaft to the head. It is instantly alive, he groans lightly and I continue my ministration. Hungrily I devour him. He weaves his fingers through my hair and humps lightly against my face. With one hand I cup his balls, with the other I grab at his hands. He is fully awake now, moaning, throwing his head back, his teeth grinding in between grunts. He surges and pours into me, I lift off of him and he continues to cum on my face and tits. I laugh and he smiles at me.
“Good morning Georgia.” He sits up in bed, “I can think of worse ways to wake up.”
“What’s your name?” I ask while I wipe my chest with a towel.
“Den.” I open his closet and pull out a shirt, stretch it over my chest and pull on a pair of his pants. He watches with a bemused look as I pilfer his clothes.
“This is a strange burglary.”
I smile at him, “Consider this: me taking your clothes means I’ll be coming back.”
“Another time, but I’ve got business to take care of.” I saunter to him, kiss him one final time. I grab my purse and shoes, then leave.
* * *
It was easier to get back into my routine than I could have anticipated. I woke up, showered, made myself breakfast and read my morning paper. Georgia never woke before noon on a weekend so for a moment I allowed myself to forget, I thought of it as a bad dream. However, I woke up alone, her side of the bed was cold and she wasn’t coming back unless I went to find her. Truth however uncomfortable is still truth. My stomach went queasy again and I found myself racing to the bathroom.
How would I find her? The city was huge and I was finding it very difficult to think clearly. Why hadn’t the word worked, perhaps it was the wrong word. Where was she? Probably whoring herself by now. No she was still my wife; she still would have some decency. However she was very into her role, picking up the first guy she laid eyes on. I was the first guy she laid eyes on. Am I not good enough for the newer, sluttier Georgia? All these thought were like a deluge in my brain preventing me from any real solution. How would I find her?
I pulled myself together about an hour or so later and got out of the house. My initial thought was like a detective story; go back to the scene of the crime. So I went back to the club. In the daylight it looked different, less ominous nothing like the cave of decadence my wife and I arrived at the night before. The bar was locked up tight, I pounded on the door, but no one answered. I walked around to see if maybe some members of the cleaning staff had a door open somewhere. I called the club on my cell but still nothing. I was about to leave when someone arrived. He was massive and doughy like an old pro wrestler, bald and dressed in black military fatigues. “Excuse me.” I said.
He turned and grunted, ” The bar opens at nine.”
“No, I just have a question.” He stopped and turned to me. “I’m looking for a guy, left last night with a girl around midnight.” He just shrugged. I was getting frustrated. “He was about six foot, long hair, no shirt, leather pants.”
“Could be Den.”
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“No.” He went back to unlocking the door ignoring me.
“Wait. I can pay.” I reached for my wallet and he turned back.
“I can’t tell you cause I don’t know. The guy is a regular that’s all I know.”
“Thank you.” I pull out a fifty and hand it to him. He just goes inside, the door thuds behind him. I was left standing there with a fifty in my hand.
* * *
The t-shirt I took from Den is perfect for my goal. My tits are straining against the cotton, and it’s hugging every curve of me. I only have a little bit of cash left so I need to get a shift tonight. I can’t remember why I haven’t worked in such a long time, but it’s time to get back in the game. There is money to be harvested from horny old men.
The Wet Dream is my first stop. There is already a bouncer sitting behind a glass booth. I walk up, my chest thrust out. “Is the manager in?”
“Yeah. Cover is twelve dollars.” I don’t know what I expected; he’s a bouncer at a titty bar. I pay him and walk in. I order a drink and ask the bartender to get the manager.
The manager leans in next to me and smiles. He is a little creepy but he has the air of a businessman, dressed in a nice shirt, tie and khaki pants. “Hi I’m Brady, How can I help you?”
“Brady, I would like to dance for you.”
“Alright, stage time is fifty dollars, you get put in the rotation at seven o’clock. Also the bartenders and bouncers get tipped out ten percent at the end of your shift.”
I’m beaming, “thank you.” I shake his hand. His grip lingers too long. “Do you need anything else from me?”
He leers at me, “Yeah, we should probably do an audition.”
“No, my office.” I nod and he leads me from the bar to his office.
“I don’t have any of my outfits with me.” I grin at him.
“That doesn’t matter.” He closes the door. I feel nervous, like I shouldn’t be here, but then I notice my reflection in a mirror. I am a slut; my tits are pulsing against the fabric of this t-shirt. My face is filled with sex and my hair is tussled and teased. I look like a slut and suddenly I feel like a slut.
I turn back to Brady, “Should I do it here?” He nods. “What about music?” My mouth is dry. Suddenly I want to taste him.
“No music.” He just stands in front of the door eyeing my body up and down.
One final look at the mirror and I slowly teasingly pull my shirt off. My boobs pop out as I bring the shirt over my head. “Do you want more?” He nods. I unbutton my jeans and gyrate slowly so that my ass is facing him. I ease the jeans off and step out of them. I am stark naked wearing only my heels, my back is arched my ass is pushed out and that’s when he jumps me. He forces me against the wall, I moan. He licks and kisses my back. I feel Brady enter me and I am lost in sensation. He is rugged, aggressive, and so utterly hot I can’t deny him anything.
He pulls out and turns me around so I’m facing him. He gropes at my tits and reenters me. I kiss him and bite at his lower lip while he thrusts slowly and longingly with the patience of a million one night stands and then it is over, like it never happened. We walk out satisfied, but otherwise completely professional. “I’ll be back at six thirty.” He nods and goes about some other business.
* * *
I drove around in my car for a while, trying to figure out my next step. My cell phone rang. It was the doctor. “I just got your message.” She said.
“I said the trigger, it didn’t work.” I said to her, forlorn.
“Before I start I need to remind you that you did sign the waiver.” I pulled the car to the side of the road and sighed, “What happened?” She asked.
“My wife forgot about me, it worked to the letter, everything I wanted to happen did, until she ran off with that greasy… I said the trigger ‘shadow’–”
She broke in, “the trigger was ‘hallowed’.”
“So what do I do now?”
The doctor paused, it sounded like she was eating something. “I’d recommend you find her. I instilled several triggers that would perpetuate and reinforce her amnesia. It’ll wear off eventually but in the mean time she is out there with a desire to have sex the impetus being to please you. She believed you would be watching. So she’s going to follow that imperative to her detriment.”
“Can I ask you something?” she grunted in the affirmative, “How did you do it?”
“Essentially I had her regress to her days as a stripper. She’s back in that place mentally just amped up. Mirrors perpetuate the hypnosis itself. She feels how she looks.”
“How long do I have? Will this affect her permanently?”
“No, not if you find her quickly. However, the longer she is out there the more this new personality will grow. Developing new memories, gaining a life. The new Georgia may not take kindly to being changed. I’d say you should find her in the next couple of days to avoid that possibility.”
“Has this happened before?”
She sighed, than slowly responded. “No, in the past the subjects were in very controlled environments: house parties, private clubs, and the like. Places where rules are strictly set. I think it was very careless of you to take her to a public club without the appropriate safeguards.” She continues her tirade but I cease listening, I notice a car drive past mine the license read DEN ART.
“I have to let you go.” She was still talking when I hung up. I tossed the phone to the side and blasted full bore after DEN ART.
* * *
Clothes, I need some outfits for tonight. I feel so strange, I’ve fucked two guys in the last twenty-four hours, but that’s not unusual, is it? I feel jumbled, it’s like having a song on the tip of your tongue but you can’t remember the name or the words, just the melody. I wander through downtown like a zombie and finally find my way to one of the stripper apparel boutiques.
The boutique is cotton candy and cum. The interior decorator seemed to be going for a circus feel mixed with seventies raunch porn. I love it, all the confusion I had outside melted away when I walked in. I tried on bubble gum colored latex bras and panties. Pasties, corsets, rip away skirts. I tried them all on and with each one I felt more sexy, more sultry, more slutty, and more of an incredible piece of sexuality. The worries, the strangeness was gone and in its place was this overwhelming confidence. I find a credit card at the bottom of my purse, I hand it to the counter girl and pay. I’m looking at the card and having an incredibly hard time reading my last name. I shake it off and put the card back in my purse.
* * *
I barreled down the road weaving amongst the traffic at a maddening speed. My heart was a rhino in bloody rampage crashing in my chest more violently with each passing moment. I don’t think I breathed for two minutes. I was nearly crashed into by a city bus and narrowly avoided traffic as I sped through a red light. DEN ART turned into a parking ramp, I followed took a ticket and parked.
Why had I wanted her to forget, was this part of the fantasy, this hunt. I was exhilarated. I had to wonder if the possibility hadn’t occurred to me before we began. It seemed an odd time to think about the origins of our situation, stalking through a parking garage at midday.
I saw him three cars down he was dressed in jeans and a sport coat. His hair was tied back in a ponytail. The sleaze had been washed away apparently. I was full of hate by that point. I crept up on him, spun him round by the shoulder and landed a punch to his stomach, he crumpled, and started crawling away gasping for air as he crawled. “Where is she?” I yelled at him.
“Who?” My hand throbbed from the punch. I had a moment of clarity. Why was I angry at him? He didn’t know what had happened to her. How could he?
“Georgia.” I said, anger still trying to hang on in my voice.
He stood up, leaned against the wall for support and looked at me. “Name doesn’t ring a bell.” He said it and my first thought was: am I wrong? How many guys can there be with the name Den walking around? I could be wrong though, he looks cleaner than I remember.
“Are you Den?” He nodded, “You went home with a woman last night, her name was Georgia. It’s important that I find her.”
“Yeah whatever. Unfortunately pal it’s none of your business, and really it’s not my problem either.” He started to walk away, his strength and composure returned.
“She’s my wife.”
“I don’t care.”
I grab him again, his fist flew up ready, and I backed off. “She has a kind of amnesia, she could hurt herself.”
He was still coiled for a fight. “You best get out of here before I beat the shit out of you. As far as I’m concerned we’re even steven so move along.”
He threw his hands up and walked away “Fuckin’ strippers.”
* * *
The skirt on my mini dress keeps riding up showing my ass cheeks off. Two men in a blue car pull over as I’m walking, one black with dreadlocks, the other white and clean cut. They smile, beckon me over and I melt a little. “Hey.” I say.
“Hey, why don’t you come over here?” I do, and I lean in. “My friend and I are looking for some company.” He thinks I’m a hooker. I stand up and see my reflection on his car. I understand why, the outfit I wore out of the boutique is making my tits pop out and my skirt is riding high enough that you can see my g-string. Well shit, why not play the part I’m dressed for.
I lean back down. “What did you have in mind?”
“Get in and find out.” He replies, the white guy gets out and gets in the back then I slip in. They smell like good cologne. The black guy is driving, I have the strangest impulse to tuck one of his dreads behind his ear, I follow through and he meets my gaze. He gingerly puts his hand behind my head and I follow the motion. I bend down as he drives, unzip his fly and play with his cock. It doesn’t need much coaxing before it comes to life. Something comes over me and suddenly his dick is my world, I worship it for the duration of the ride. His sperm, when it comes, is sweeter then I remember.
In a kind of afterglow daze I find myself in a hotel room with the white guy. “Did you like that? In the car?” He asks, I nod. “You like being a whore?” I thought for a moment and felt a pang of offense but it was washed away when I saw the creature in the mirror. I did like it, I did want it, and I don’t know why I never did this before. I suppose night after night would wear on me but here and now I am glad to be a whore. I want to be fucked.
I nod as I pull my mini dress over my head. “I love it.” I put my arms around his neck. I’m tiny next to him.
“What do you want me to do?” He says.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” He smiles, “Take off your pants.” He does ” Now my panties.” He follows the direction. I pull myself up with his neck and lower myself onto his waiting cock. It enters and he moans, “First time with a whore?” He nods and presses my back against a wall. “Good?” He moans, I feel every vein as he thrusts. I throw my head back and wail as he pounds into me. This is my life, this is my pursuit, this is what I am, a fucking nympho.
He spins and puts me on the bed as he drives into me with gusto. I claw his back, bite his shoulder, and rip at him as I buck into his thrusts. He pours into me and collapses at the foot of the bed. I’m a little hurt when he gets up and leaves, but the black guy comes in.
I’m lying on the bed not quite satisfied but very contented and he kneels on the bed. He’s stark naked and massive, “Turn over.” He says to me, and I comply. I see the headboard and little else, my cheek is forced into the pillow and each thrust sends shockwaves through my body. I cum and start to shiver as he continues, the room gets dark and I pass out.
* * *
I wandered around downtown checking every bar, strip club, and sex shop I came across. I entered the Wet Dream; a half naked girl sat on a stool next to the glass booth where the bouncer sat. “Twelve dollar cover.” He said without passion. The girl smiled at me.
“Have you seen this woman?” I showed him Georgia’s picture.
“Don’t know, you see twelve dollars in my hand?” The girl giggled.
I paid him, “Have you seen her?”
“Maybe, I see a lotta people.”
“Rhino don’t be mean.” The girl piped in then said, “I think I saw her, she was lookin’ for work I think.”
“Thank you.” I passed her and entered the club; it smelled of vomit and was all but empty. I saw two older men at the stage watching a girl dance. There was a stripper at the bar and a smarmy guy in a tie bitching out the bartender for some unknown offense. I walked up to the bar, the stripper smiled at me ” Manager?” I point to the guy in the tie, she nods.
The tirade finished he turned to me, “Is there something I can help you with?”
I flashed the picture, “Have you seen this girl?” He instantly shook his head. “It’s important that I find her.”
“Sorry I can’t help you.”
“One of your dancers said she was here, looking for work.”
“Are you a cop?” He smiled at me.
“No. She’s my wife.” His grin got bigger, like he was holding back a laugh.
“Let me get you a beer.” I shook my head, “No I insist.” He poured a tap and handed it too me. “She was here. A very friendly girl. I’m thinking, from our interview, that she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe you are her husband, I didn’t see a ring, but hey what do I know. But, maybe you’re just one of those guys that got a crush on a stripper and thinks he can mend her broken wings. Seriously, I can’t tell you anything about her man, and I can’t have you snooping around here looking for her.” His grin was ear to ear, threatening to overwhelm his face.
I felt rage burrowing up into my chest as he spoke. I couldn’t stop him talking, my tongue was pulsing in my mouth stopping up saliva and damming any words. I stood up and started heading for the door. “No.” I said in one short stifled breath.
“What was that?” he asked as he started to drink the tap he had poured for me.
I bounded over the bar and plowed into him like a freight train. The bartender tried to pry me off but I was relentless, each punch connecting. Muscle, flesh, and bone were malleating under my blows. Rhino left his glass booth, cracked me across my right temple and kicked me in the balls. I fell to the ground wheezing and found myself on the asphalt outside in short order.
* * *
I wake up in the hotel room. The men are gone but in their place I find three hundred dollars on an end table. I quickly shower, get dressed and collect my things. Downstairs I book myself a room. I guess I’m homeless right now, though I don’t remember why or how long. Throughout the day there have been these niggling questions and for whatever reason I haven’t wanted or bothered to answer them, but they keep popping up. Where do I live? Why haven’t I worked in so long? How do I have a credit card? What’s my last name? Most of all, do I want to know?
My name is Georgia, I am a stripper, and I guess I could be a hooker. The question was posed last night and I remember taking such offense to it then, but today on the street those men bought me. I don’t live anywhere; I must’ve been kicked out of my place, prudish landlords. Maybe, I was hooking there. Yes that’s what happened, a prudish landlady who didn’t approve of my lifestyle kicked me out of my apartment.
I was trying to give up this lifestyle. I was gonna stop stripping, but fuck that, that is my motherfuckin’ calling. I am a new woman today and no one is gonna change me. I love my life, I love sex, and monogamy is for pussies. It doesn’t matter how I got here or why, what matters is that I’m here.
I look in the mirror, not so much the slut, just a woman waiting for something to happen. I want to let go, to be the slut, the hooker, the wet dream, but I don’t know what I’m letting go of. Is it better, is it worse. I need a drink.
* * *
I went back to the parking garage, bruised and battered. DEN ART was still there. The building was a series of lofts and offices. His name was on the directory so I went to his studio with only a half inkling as to why I was there. His doorway was unadorned save for the number, I knocked and nearly ran but he answered too quickly.
“What do you want?” He answered with about the least amusement of anyone I’d ever met.
” I need your help.” He began closing the door and I pressed forward. “I’ll pay you.”
He paused then finally let me in. A very business-like desk, a massive picnic table, a ten-foot high canvas with charcoal sketching, and a large bed with a naked girl lounging on it occupied the studio. She looked startled and quickly covered herself when I walked in. “Quickly.” He said and sat at his desk.
I told him everything that had happened; I explained the hypnosis, the trigger words, the subsequent search, and the final confrontation. After I was done he asked why I had come to him with this. “Honestly, I don’t know.” I said to him, “you’re connected to this and I thought you as an artist might understand.”
“I don’t understand at all. How could you do that to her?”
“She agreed to it; but I should have known better. However we got here we’re in this situation now and I’m not going to lay down.” The girl was listening in now and Den looked lost in thought. “Den, she’s in danger. Think if she were your wife.”
“If she were mine she wouldn’t be in this situation.” He stands up and pulls his sport coat on. “I’ll help you.”
* * *
“Someone was lookin’ for you.” Some girl says to me as I come in to the club. I turn back and ask who. “I don’t know some guy, beat the shit out of Brady.”
“Oh no, is he alright.” So much for trying to negotiate my stage fee.
“Yeah, little banged up but he’s fine.”
I go into the dressing room and find a spot to change. A wall of mirrors greet me and I can’t help but smile. I change into a cute little piece. The makeup completes the picture, I am transformed no longer the slut, now I am the adorable curious schoolgirl. I start bopping my head bouncing my curls around. Out on the floor I approach a man almost immediately, I haven’t even had a drink, but little girls don’t drink alcohol. I sit down next to him and flutter my lashes.
“How much for a lap dance.” This greasy construction worker asks me.
“I can sit on your lap for twenty dollars.” I smile at him.
“Twenty just to sit?”
“You’ll really like it mister.” I bend over in front so he can see my pretty ass. I turn to see his reaction, he nods and I sit on his lap and flip myself around so I’m facing him. I rock slowly back and forth his cock stiffening beneath the denim. He holds a twenty in his hand as I grab at it he lifts it out of my reach. I whimper and he flicks the bill against my mouth. I stick out my tongue, he places the twenty on my tongue I grab it with my teeth.
I walk around the club repeating the encounter. Flirt, sit, grind, and get money. Back in the dressing room I’m getting ready to dance. I decide to stick with the schoolgirl motif through the dance. Sweet and innocent with the body and sex drive of a grown woman. I dance, I strip, I’m naked except for my g-string midway through, and do individual lap dances for the rest of the song.
I go back after my dance and change into a hardcore hair metal outfit. Booze and coke, I’m a groupie, a starfucker all in black fishnets and teased hair. Back on the floor I see Den, I play it cool get myself a drink and bum a cigarette, before I sit with Den.
“You want a lap dance?”
* * *
I watched him go in and sat back. My nerves were on fire, I thought as I sat in the car that he would run away with her, forget about me and just go. Then reality bled in, Georgia, as perfect as I thought she was, for him was a one night stand that was becoming more work than she was worth. The end was near, soon she’d be back and everything would go back to normal. I didn’t want to think that the effects of one day would permanently affect her so I eclipsed all doubt with mindless optimism.
An hour passed and I began to get nervous. I was lost in thought when Rhino pulled me out of the car and beat me to the ground. I blacked out.
* * *
It’s nice to see Den again but his story is freaking me out just a little. He told me my husband was looking for me and that he should go with him. I tell him I don’t have a husband but he insisted that I go with him. I see Brady and I get all gooey. He doesn’t look too bad for having been beat up, maybe that dancer was full of it. Den is still talking when Brady waves me over. I don’t know what he’s babbling about as I leave.
“You know that guy baby?” I nod.
“He’s just a friend.”
“Just stopped by huh?” Something in his tone is menacing, but I don’t feel like it’s towards me. So I spill just in case. I tell him the story Den told me about my supposed husband and some kind of hypnosis. “Thanks Georgia.” I nod and go to the dressing room.
* * *
I didn’t see Den anywhere. The room was painted in black and glitter. There were two supports that were adorned with red silver garland. Rhino had his arm around my neck, and Brady sat on a small folding chair.
“It’s good to see you pal.” He stands and walks up to me, “I don’t know what your game is man but you come in and a few hours later you got a friend of yours come in and try the same thing. I’ve got a duty to protect these girls from predators.”
“I don’t think you have all the details.” I responded as best I could.
“No, I do have all the details Sidney. Den was kind enough to explain everything.”
I struggle against Rhino, forced my heel into the top of his foot and made a break for Brady. Before I was able to get there Rhino clubbed me in the back of the head. “You fuck.” I spat at him.
“Now, Georgia is gonna come in here and I’m gonna warn you just once, if you say a word to her Rhino will kill you. One syllable and he’ll snap your neck do you understand?”
I nod, and as if I didn’t understand Rhino pressed against my neck. Georgia came out, she was dressed in a tiny skirt that was more of a wide belt, a tube top that threatened to burst, pink aviator glasses, and this super gloss lip balm, cock sucking lips as they say. She doesn’t even move like my Georgia, she doesn’t even look at me; her focus is entirely on Brady. He whispers something in her ear and she steps out between the supports and begins a slow striptease.
* * *
Brady told me to go change. He was very specific about what I should wear. I stare into the mirror absorbing my new identity as I get dressed. I think about it and smile, I’m Brady’s slut, I’m his bitch, he can tell me to do anything and I’ll do it. God I feel sexy, I don’t know what he wants me to do but I’m hoping I’ll get fucked.
I walk into the box, that’s what they call the room in the back, it’s where Brady brings his big clients for the special shows. Rhino is holding a man by his throat and I see Brady, God I want to fuck him.
I bend down and he whispers in my ear, ” I want you to strip for this nice man then I want you to suck my cock.”
“Yum.” I say and lick my lips. It’s so hard to strip for this guy when all I want to do is jump Brady.
I wish they would take this guy out of here, something about him is freaking me out. I don’t recognize him, but I do at the same time. All those nervous queezy moments throughout the day come back, and I’m trying to stuff them down just imagine what Brady’s gonna do to me later, or maybe Den. God he keeps watching me, I focus on Brady, I hope he doesn’t notice. Then I’m done hiding beneath my shades I’m completely nude. I drop to the floor and crawl on hands and knees to Brady’s waiting cock. I unzip his fly and stroke his cock with my hands, he’s moaning, I’ve forgotten all about Rhino and that guy. I lick his cock from from the base to the tip and swallow him down. He’s pulling at my hair and I’m fingering myself as I suck and lick and attack his dick.
* * *
That was what I wanted. To see her with reckless abandon fuck, suck, and kiss another man. I had it there in that room and my sole thought was that I was about to kill that man on the dirty metal folding chair. As she was sucking his dick I was attacking Rhino. I pushed back against the wall as hard as I could. I lucked out the blow knocked the wind out of him. I capitalized on it and followed by shoving my elbow into his throat. As he fell I kicked his chest and felt a crunch.
I turned in time to see Georgia sucking his tongue. I paused then yelled “Hallowed!”
* * *
Sidney, I am the wife of Sidney Mortimer. We’ve been married for five years. I am a paralegal. All these memories come flooding back like a deluge. But I can also remember everything I had done, everything I thought, everything I wanted to be. The stripper was occupying space in my head. I look around, I’m naked, on my knees and Brady is spent in front of me. I stand up and see Sidney, bruised and bloodied, I shake uncontrollably and start laughing and crying and I run into Sidney’s arms.
“I’m so sorry baby.” I sob at him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I didn’t mean for any of it.” He says and we head for the door when I hear the cocking of a gun.
* * *
“I warned you.” Brady hissed he raised the gun at me and Georgia steps in the way
“You can’t do this Brady.” She put her hand out.
Brady stepped forward and pointed at the chair behind him. “You get in that chair Georgia.”
“This is my husband Brady. I’m sorry, I know this is all very strange, but you can not do this.”
“Go get your things honey.” I told her, Brady still had the gun up and she was refusing to budge but his resolve was severely diminished. She complied and left. “It’s over, even if you shoot me it’s still over.” Brady sat down shaking his head.
Georgia and I drove home after that and we talked the whole way. She didn’t tell me everything she had done, at first, but as I told her my own trials she began to give more details. The most substantial lesson we took away from this experience was to feel good about ourselves. This fantasy of mine, I believe, was an unconscious expression of my own inadequacies. The same holds true for Georgia on some level. We were forced to fight our way to that conclusion.
Georgia took the lesson much harder. She told me she could still feel her inside, the stripper. She was at the mall and the urge crept up on her like a nicotine fit. She saw a man who was attractive and her immediate reaction was to pick him up. She even ended up talking to him, though nothing happened the instinct was still there. I don’t hold it against her, I couldn’t having set the behavior in motion. Like alcoholics we both take it one day at a time.
Stranger still, my new persona has had a difficult time staying suppressed. In some situations I have been very quick to anger. I nearly came to blows with a man at the bank. These creatures are in us both, they probably always have been, but now that they’ve been loosed it’s difficult to go back.
In the end are we better for what happened? I think yes, I think we have grown. Neither of us question anymore whether or not we could do this or that, we know it’s possible. We know what our ids are capable of.
* * *
It’s been two months since the adventure and I find myself driving downtown and I see the boutique, I see the corner where I played hooker, and I see the Wet Dream. On impulse I park and go inside. Rhino is no longer in the glass booth, there’s a new guy “Twelve dollar cover.” He says with the same lack of enthusiasm. I pay and walk in.
A girl is dancing, I don’t recognize her, but the bartender is the same, he nods at me and comes to serve me. I order and immediately Brady appears behind me, holding my arms back.
“What are you doing here Georgia?” He whispers into my ear.
I swallow the dryness in my throat, “I wanted to see you. To see you differently.”
“Oh, you wanna look at me with married eyes to see and hope that I’m uglier than you remember.” He licks my cheek. “Con-cupi-sense.”
I’m at a strip club like so many I’ve worked at before. Brady is holding my arms behind me and grabbing my ass, he looks very fuckable. I stick my tongue down his throat.