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eBook Category: Erotica
eBook Description: A Searing Novel of Prostitutes and Strippers! When a pampered rich girl suddenly finds her father in jail and herself penniless and on the run with no marketable job skills, she is forced to turn to nude dancing to support herself. Renamed Nocturne, she taps an undiscovered well of creativity to become the best nude dancer and stripper at the club where she works. At the famous Pussycat Lounge, Nocturne meets amateurs, competing professional dancers, private party girls, the owner's college age daughter and even a Hollywood movie star. Soon she finds she can't resist the financial temptation of prostitution, and begins to rent her body for sex. Then, to save her father, Nocturne agrees to work as a stripper in several government sting operations. In the process, Nocturne discovers inner strength and resources she never dreamed she possessed. You will love this page-turning tale of what goes on behind the scenes among the tails at the Pussycat Lounge.

eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler, Published: 2005
Fictionwise Release Date: July 2005

13 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: eReader (PDB) [186 KB] , ePub (EPUB) [201 KB] , Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [161 KB] , Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.0 MB] , Palm Doc (PDB) [183 KB] , Microsoft Reader (LIT) [170 KB] , Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [206 KB] , hiebook (KML) [479 KB] , Sony Reader (LRF) [230 KB] , iSilo (PDB) [148 KB] , Mobipocket (PRC) [185 KB] , Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [229 KB] , OEBFF Format (IMP) [240 KB]
Words: 67142
Reading time: 191-268 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Portable Document Format (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

Just call me Nocturne. I grew up in an affluent suburb as the pampered daughter of the richest man in town. I wanted for nothing material.

If the other little girls had one fancy dress, I had 10. When the other little girls wanted an ice cream cone, I wanted HagenDaaz. By the time I graduated from high school, I had become the total rich bitch.

I was planning on spending my last summer before college lazing on the beach at either La Jolla or perhaps a resort on Waialua Bay. Of course, I would need a complete new wardrobe for the trip and enough spending money to hit the hot spots at night.

My father suddenly barges into the house one afternoon. He tells me the authorities have found out what he is doing. Apparently what he is doing isn't legal. He tells me that I have an hour to pack and leave. If they find me before I get away, they will seize everything my father and I have. There will be a long, nasty trial and an even longer life of poverty for both of us.

I quickly gather what I can and stuff everything into a Mustang convertible. Daddy says the Mustang is the only car they cannot trace. Daddy gives me all the ready cash he has, which amounts to a little more than $1,000. He tells me that if I use a credit card, they will use the charge records to trace me. If I try to use my checking account, the checking account will be soon frozen and also they will trace me by the bad checks.

I say goodbye to Daddy and leave. I am driving down the back road and just turning the corner when several official looking cars pull into the driveway to Daddy's house.

I drive for a while, mainly using secondary roads, obeying the speed limits and kind of just keeping out of sight. As I drive, I think my situation over.

Why did Daddy not take one of the other cars and run? OK, they can trace the car and he would have had to abandon it. However, Daddy can start back up again after he abandons the car. However, whatever it is that Daddy does requires a lot of money. If all Daddy has is $1,000, he cannot make it. Thus, he decides to give his daughter a chance to live her life. Good old Daddy!

Wait a minute! What the hell am I going to do? I am trained to be the pampered wife of a rich man. I can do nothing that will earn me a living. However, Daddy would not send me away if there was no hope for my future. Whatever his faults, he has always taken care of me as best he could. Thus, he can see a way for me to survive, even if he did not tell me how. If I am to survive, I have to earn a living. I just have to figure out what I can do to earn a living.

I stop at a place just before the junctions with the big highways. I get the car serviced and filled with fuel. While I wait, I go into the restaurant that is part of the same complex. I will charge the car service and the lunch on my credit card. They can trace the use of my card to the complex, but that will really tell them nothing. I am already learning to be a miserable little thief and I am not an hour away from home yet!

I get a salad and iced tea and start to list everything I can do. I can sing a little, dance a little, run a house with servants, shop for the latest in expensive fashions and a few other things that are of no earthly use. I cannot start up a rich lady's shopping service with only $1,000. I cannot trap a rich husband with only $1,000 to work with. I cannot sing well enough to earn a living at it. I cannot dance well enough...

It hits me like a hammer! I cannot dance well enough to earn a living at it. That is, I cannot earn a living dancing with my clothes on. However, if I am to strip or dance nude, who will care all that much about my dancing? I can see will have to live like a common whore. Why did Daddy not have me stay with him and we could try to make it back to the top after they take everything they can find? Daddy must have hidden some money somewhere and we could use that to start.

I slowly came to realize that they are going to put Daddy in prison for his crimes. They will not let Daddy out of prison for a long, long time. Even if he has money hidden, the government will probably find it in time. In any case, by the time Daddy gets out of prison, he will be old and so will I. I suddenly realize why Daddy did not discuss my situation with me. He could not bear to tell me the awful truth.

I redo my inventory. I am five feet six inches tall, with a slender, toned body. I have natural blonde hair and a fairly nice set of round breasts. The boys back in high school used to stand in line to try to get dates with me and I never put out, well almost never. In any case I have the kind of face and body that boys like.

There is a big city not too far away; however, they will probably look for me there. Then I remember that Daddy had taken some clients to a place down the highway a bit. He had dropped a packet of matches and I remember that the place was called The Pussycat Lounge. Daddy had been angry about me finding the matches and he told me that one of his clients had brought the matches with him and the place was basically a high class whore house.

I finish lunch and I get my car back and drive on. As I drive, I try to convince myself that I can just dance and make enough to live on until I can figure out what else I can do. I gradually come to realize that there is nothing else I can do. I can dance nude, but it will not end there. The one thing that I really have to sell on a continuing basis, well I am sitting on it.

I get to The Pussycat Lounge just before dark. I brace myself and walk into the place, feeling like a whore. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other and telling myself it is better to live as a whore than to starve to death

There is a girl setting up the bar. She looks annoyed and tells me they are not open yet.

I tell her I am here looking for a job.

The bar girl tells me I will have to talk with Andre. She points me toward a door.

Andre is a tall, nasty asshole of a type I never would have dealt with back when I had a choice. He wants to know if I have any experience dancing. I have to tell him no. He takes a long look at my face and tells me that he normally does not hire girls with no experience. However, he is shorthanded for the night and he is willing to give me a chance. He tells me to take off my clothes.

I look around for the bathroom or whatever, so that I can at least take off my clothes in private. It is not to be. Andre tells me not to look around, just strip.

I take off my clothes as calmly as I can and stand nude in front of Andre.

Andre looks me up and down and tells me to dance a little.

I do a few steps and he slowly shakes his head no but then says I will do, at least for tonight. He then tells me that I will need to shave off the fur and that I will dance for the customers. If any customer wants me, I will fuck the customer. Do I understand?

I gulp and say that I understand. Inside I realize that I understand all too well what I am getting myself into. However, the specter of starvation is even scarier than selling myself.

Andre hits the intercom and calls for one Desiree. He says something about a wild girl.

Desiree appears with some tools. I am told to lie on a couch and Desiree calmly begins to shave my bikini area. The shaving is done while Andre looks on or at least while he does some paperwork without paying a lot of attention to Desiree and me.

When the shaving is done and I lie with my bald pussy spread, Andre comes out from behind the desk and takes off his clothes. He puts on a condom and mounts me like I am a piece of meat or something.

Andre has a good sized cock and he fucks me hard and deep.

I am scared as hell, but do the best I can. I figure that I have to fuck well enough to please the customers and that I am being given my final exam.

Andre works me over good. He knows more about fucking a girl than any of the boys back home. He uses every bit of my pussy and moves both of us around just enough to vary the angle for each stroke into me. I can feel him deep inside me and normally I would have been so damn excited I would have climaxed right away. The whole damn thing is so strange and so scary, however, so I just keep responding as best I can. I have to please Andre. Otherwise, I won't get the job.

I do begin to get excited and I clamp down on Andre's driving cock and he climaxes. I can feel him tense as he shoots his cum into the condom. I do remember to help him, by milking his cock with my internal muscles.

When Andre is finished, he pulls out of me and tells me that I was OK. He tells me that I will work that night. I will get 75% of my tips and 50% of my fucking money. I will fuck anyone who pays the fee. I will damn well have an orgasm for each guy who fucks me and the fake had better be damn good. If there is trouble, Taffy will take care of it. He finishes by saying that I am to clean the mess off the couch. He throws me a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle of cleaner.

I am so damn shocked I cannot even react. In a few short hours I have gone from pampered rich bitch to probationary whore. I am even more scared that I will not make it as a whore than I am that someone who knows me might wander into the place and see me.

Andre tells me to clean the couch first, then get dressed and report to Desiree. With that, he turns and goes into his bathroom to get himself cleaned up.

I mechanically begin to clean the couch. I am so numb I didn't really think about my being nude in an office where anyone might just walk in.

When I get the couch finished, I walk over to my clothes and start to dress. I am just slipping into my pantyhose when Andre comes out of the bathroom.

Andre takes a quick glance at me and tells me that I am to keep my pussy shaved at all times and I am to get some stockings from Desiree, "instead of that pantyhose shit."

I finish dressing, still in a state of shock.

When I finish, Andre glances at me, then at the door to his office. My interview is over. My self respect is also pretty much over.

I stagger out of the office and go to find Desiree.

Desiree sees that I am a real newcomer and she sits me down and tells me how things work at The Pussycat Lounge.

I will dance nude for the customers. I will always have my pussy shaved clean with no stubble. I will always wear a garter belt and nylons. If the nylons get torn up, I will have several pairs on hand, The Pussycat Lounge does not have girls wander around with nylons with runners or with tears in them. Some of the customers will demand that I wear nylons while they fuck me and that is $25 extra per fuck. The customers pay the Bartender before I take them into the back room. I can still get a tip from the customer in the back room. When I get the high sign from the Bartender or the Stage Manager, I take whoever the waitress brings me into a back room and fuck his brains out. Taffy will be watching and make damn sure the customer stays in line. If the customer gets out of line, Taffy will handle it. By the way, I will fuck Taffy, maybe once a week to make sure that Taffy has my best interest in mind at all times.

Through my shock, I manage to ask who is Taffy?

Desiree waves over a large, brown man.

Taffy is a Samoan. He is maybe five foot ten inches tall and maybe that wide. He is not fat.

Taffy gives me a big smile. He tells me, "Taffy take care of the girls all the time. Sometime the girls take care of Taffy. You got trouble, Taffy be there for you." With that, Taffy turns and is gone.

Desiree tells me that Taffy is my only defense against a nasty customer. I am not to worry because Taffy can handle the biggest, meanest customer.

I ask just how big is Taffy?

Desiree tells me that Taffy weighs "a little under 300 pounds." I am not to worry. Taffy takes it a little easy on the Pussycat girls, but he still wants all his pussy.

Desiree then tells me that I need to dance. However, first I am to take off my dress so that she can better see what I am doing.

In a desperate attempt to retain a little dignity, I tell Desiree that I am wearing sheer to the waist pantyhose.

Desiree tells me not to worry, that I will work nude all the time and "Don't worry about the men seeing you, they see that all the time."

OK, I am not a girl anymore. I am just another shaved pussy. I think for just a moment that maybe starving to death wouldn't be all that bad.