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A Better Lapdance

by onewhoknew

A Better Lapdance

By the time I pulled into the car park behind the club, night had fallen. The club was dark, obviously closed. I had suggested several times that it did look as though we were doing something suspicious, and perhaps opening the main part of the club and restrict our activities to one of the back rooms would draw less attention, but I had been overruled.

It didn't matter that much, I suppose. I had taken every precaution in case of a raid by the police. If the authorities did turn up, we could show that nothing illegal was going on - everyone involved would say they were there of their own free will, and - well, no money was changing hands, I saw to that.

I knocked on the back door. A slot on the door shot open and Jeb, the bouncer, peered out. On seeing me there, the big black guy opened the door and waved me in. "You're the last one here," he said, slamming the door and locking it. He looked nervous, I thought, although I had explained before that there was nothing could go wrong.

I shook my head, and walked past him.

The main club was dark, despite the lights around the edge and the main stage lights. The heavy beat of dance music pounded out as the girl on stage, her fair skin and golden hair shining under the strong beams. She was down to just her top and g-string, one leg wrapped around the pole as she span. I watched for a second, then was distracted by Bianca. This night, the chubby girl was wearing... well, very little indeed. A tight tube top was stretched over her large breasts, and her stomach bulged over her tight jeans. Her curly black hair flew back as she leaped up at me. "Hiiiiieeee!" she squealed, kissing me on my stubbly cheek.

Most people are reluctant to get too near me given that I looked like a tramp, but the girls here had no reservations. Or at least, they shouldn't, not if I'd done my work properly. I hugged her, squashing her warm, soft body against me. I love the feeling of their and skin, the heat filtering through to my colder body.

The girl looked up at me, her eyes vacant and dull. "Um... do you wanna, like, go somewhere an' have some fun?"

Cute and bubbly airheads weren't my type, though. I disentangled myself from her grip, and pointed her in the direction of Jeb. He had a thing for the fat girl, and always chose her, no matter who she was that evening. Except when she was being herself. Then, I had first choice.

I grabbed a beer from behind the bar, and settled down into one of the booths at the back, far from the stage, where I could look over the whole club. Most of the girls were busy with the members of the special club, just the stripper on the stage and one girl standing in the shadows, as though trying to hide while staying in plain sight. I grinned, and licked my lips. Good.

It was Kirsten tonight.

I liked Kirsten.

I beckoned her over. She walked with a sexy sway, her four inch red heels crossing over and making her hips swing. Her smooth, silky brown skin shimmered in the low light, all the way up her long legs to those tiny shorts that covered her wide hips up to her waist. Her stomach was flat with lightly toned muscle - perhaps she was a little thinner than she should be, but undeniably a smoking hot body. Her breasts were small but perfectly formed, hidden within a shirt that was tied just under her ribcage. Her hair was straight, falling over those thin bony shoulders and halfway down her back. She'd covered her lips with ruby red lipstick, so it seemed as though she was pouting. But it was the girl's eyes that I enjoyed the most.

She was weeping. I like that in a woman.

When she strode into the booth, I shifted round so we couldn't be seen from the rest of the room. Although her body stood in a sexily confident pose, her expression was fear and apprehension. "What's the matter," I asked, showing off my sharp toothed grin. "Bad day?"

She looked at me, not sure whether to trust me or not. Her conclusion, that she had no-one else to trust, was obvious as she hissed, "Please help me! I'm not supposed to be here!"

I feigned a little puzzlement. "What do you mean, you're not meant to be here?"

"I-I'm not a stripper!"

"You're dressed like that, standing in a strip club, coming over when I act like I want a lap dance - what are you, then?"

"I'm just a student! I was just going out on a night out and then-"

She stopped. Her shoulders shook with repressed sobs as she bit her lower lip.

"What happened?" I asked, shifting forwards in concern. "Did someone kidnap you? Did they force you to dance here with threats of beatings?"

Almost painfully, she closed her black rimmed eyes and shook her head.

"Is someone blackmailing you?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Are you doing it for the money? Do you have so many bills to pay that you have to degrade yourself to keep a roof over your head?"

This time, she barely moved.

"Then what? How did you end up here, if you don't want to be?"

More tears tracked down her face, trailing mascara over her fur. "I don't know!"

She sobbed out her story, barely auidiable over the music. "We just were just going out for the night, and - Beccy said she knew this great new club, so we all came here and - and they let us in, and -"

She paused, breathing heavily. Her body didn't move, hands on hips, but her face was racked with fear. "We came in. And that rhino showed us into- into the dressing room. And- we all got changed! I don't know why! We started putting on all this slutty stuff, and then everyone started to act differently. Like they were all strippers. And I couldn't say anything. And I couldn't stop!"

Her head was shaking. "And then I came in here and it really was a strip club, and I couldn't run away. Oh god, I just want to get out of here. Please. Please help me."

I sat back, digesting the impossible story. "So... you're not being forced. The only thing stopping you from walking straight out of here is yourself, is that you won't move your legs and get out."

She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She nodded, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

"Good!" I said. "Then it's working perfectly."

She looked up, too shocked to continue crying. "What?"

"A while back, I arranged for the six of you girls to be incapacitated. Then, it was possible for me to use a device I had perfected some time previously to directly interface with your brains. It's based on the electromagnetic frequencies, but not simply imposing-" I broke off my sentence, and laughed. "Well, how it works isn't important. What you need to know now is that I can alter your mind as I wish. I can, say, give you the impulse, a deep, unquestionable urge, to go out with your friends, and go to a club, and then your fragile, fleeting psyches are washed away as new, obedient, personalities unfold and take over."

"That's- That's not possible!" she sobbed, fresh tears blotting her fur. "You can't do that!"

"can't I, my dear?" I lent out of the booth and gestured towards the stage. "Why don't you ask your friend... Natalie, isn't it?"

On the stage, the girl had now removed her thong, and was rubbing herself against the pole. The metal seemed to glisten where she left a trail. "Of course, she wouldn't recognise that name now. The personality in her right now is Trixie, a girl who likes to dance. Really likes to dance, as you can see. I can move the personalities around, so each club night we have a different girl acting out each part."

"But what about me? What did you do to me?"

I snapped my fingers. "Dance."

She gave a small shriek as her body obeyed my command. Her hips swayed, and her hands stroked the tight shorts over her thighs. "I made sure one of you got left with your original personality, just no control over your actions, every time. For me. You see, I'm an terrible sadist."

Her hands traced her stomach muscles as she lent forward, reaching up to tug at the knot keeping her shirt on. The position meant I could see down her top, but it also meant her head was close to mine, and I could flick my tongue out and smell the salty tears.

"But I don't like to just cause pain, fun though that may be. I like it when I make a girl cry."

Her top fell away, revealing those breasts, small enough that they doesn't so much bounce as she moved, but twitch slightly, almost like muscles, but serving no purpose but to arouse me. She straddled me as I lay back in the seat, and with her hands on my shoulders, began to grind her pelvis against my chest.

"You see, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin'," I sang. "Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin'. Well, I find it's quite a thrill, when she grinds me 'gainst her will, oh yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin'."

She screwed her eyes shut, and tears dripped from her cheek to blott on my shirt.

"I love the power, you see."

She rubbed her crotch further down, each grind moving her towards my groin.

"The way you're so fucking helpless, you can't do anything more than watch and feel as you debase yourself."

Her arse was so low that she could feel my erection through my trousers, rubbing between her buttocks as she moved closer and closer to fucking herself in the rear.

I slapped her on the butt, just lightly, and smiled. "Say. Have you ever sucked a dick?"

She looked at me with a strained expression. It shaded to fear as she shook her head.

"Wrong!" I said. She climbed off me, and knelt between my legs. "You've given head so many times I've lost count. Of course, I remove the memory from your head every time - but not the skill, oh no."

Her hands unzipped my fly, and brought my cock into the air. "You'd make your boyfriend very happy indeed, if we hadn't modified your behaviour so you don't fuck about outside of the club."

She looked up, her mouth a round O of surprise. "Oh, yes, that's why you can never meet a man you're attracted to. We don't want you spreading something nasty round here, now do we? And speaking of something nasty..."

One of her delicate hands held my cock at the base, while she looked up at me as I described how I was running her life. It came as quite a surprise to her when her pursed lips moved toward the head of my dick. She tried to stop herself, gasping, but she wasn't in control. The head of my dick entered her mouth, and she lapped at the tip. Her eyes widened as she tasted the salty fluid, familiar even though she couldn't remember it. I grunted, in the back of my throat, and she pulled back. A thin string of pre-cum trailed from deep within her mouth to connect it with my dick, resting on the ruby glint of her lips.

Then she plunged her head down, filling her muzzle with the thick meat.

She gurgled and gasped, unable to breathe for a second. The spasm of her epiglottis rippled over my glans until I reached behind her ear and pulled her back a bit - I didn't want to finish just yet. She snorted heavily, desperate for air. Saliva dribbled down my length, wetting my trousers. New tears of distress pricked her eyes, following the shining path of wet skin down her cheeks, this time to splash on the brown hair covering my balls.

"You know," I said, conversationally, as she bobbed her head along my dick, "you're my favourite girl. That fat girl? She rants and raves constantly - at least, until I fill her mouth. Boring stuff about rape and how I'm an inhuman monster. That black girl -" I pointed to another corner, where the club owner, a big guy called Mike, was fucking her up the arse - "she just breaks down, withdraws into herself, like it's not happening to her."

I gently rubbed her head, behind the ear. In return, she licked the head of my dick. I shuddered with the pleasure, and spoke almost conspiratorially. "I think she was abused as a child. It's that kind of effect."

"But you -" I reached down, and caught a tear on the tip of my finger. It sparkled multiple colours as I held it up to my mouth. My long, slender tongue flickered out, whipping her pain into my mouth. "You just ah-cry!"

I shuddered as I came. She clamped down on my cock, and a spurt of cum shot into her waiting mouth, her eyes wide with fear and disgust. I pulled her mouth off me, and aimed my dick at her face. The next rope flew across her nose spattering into her eyes. She squeezed them shut as more semen spread over her, matting her hair and mixing with the tears. My final dribble fell short, sputtering out to stain those lovely breasts.

She got up. Struggling to her feet, she stood, and turned to me, her mouth open to show me my handiwork. Cum dripped off her, and her shoulders shook with sobs that she had to hold in so that the off-white juice in her mouth was visible.

It was beautiful.

"Swallow," I said, and she did. Those ruby lips closed on my seed, and a bulge traveled down her throat. She looked so sweet, standing there semi naked, trembling in fear. And then she burst into tears, flinging herself at me as great heaving sobs racked her body. The pre-programmed response to cry on my shoulder was overpowering. My tongue flickered out to lick at the salty combination of semen and tears on her cheeks. "I know how to make you feel better."

I pushed her back to her feet. She looked down, puzzled, as I began to fiddle with her shorts. When she realised what I was about to do, she twitched, and tried to push me away, but could only rest her hands on my shoulders. "No. No!"

My thick fingers brushed through the hair surrounding her vagina. I teased it, gently putting pressure on her flesh until her lips parted. The scent of arousal hit me, and even though I knew it was simply the program in her brain forcing her to become horny, I smiled. My tongue shot out, and traced her lips before diving further into her tunnel. I wriggled it about, deeper and deeper, and she cried out above me.

I don't like to keep at this part for too long. Not that I don't enjoy the taste of a woman, but my tongue gets tired extended at full length like that. So I rolled my upper lip back, and pressed forward with the flat of my teeth. Moving up, I rolled the hood of her clitoris back, and the sharper edge of my teeth scraped over the exposed flesh and nerve endings. She twitched, the muscles clenching, and screamed, half in pleasure and half in pain.

I pushed again, enamel on exposed flesh. My tongue spasmed, aching with the exertion. Her tunnel tightened, as she let out a high keening wail and came. Flesh and sweat juddered against my face, beyond the control of my machines. And finally, what I was waiting for: the taste of her juice flooding my mouth, coating my teeth with the delicious uncontrollable pleasure.

I pulled back from her cunt, and looked up at her face, as a fresh wave of tears coated the crust of drying cum. I open my mouth to show her the rewards of my efforts, before swallowing. "So tell me," I asked, a big grin on my face. "Which was more humiliating, giving a stranger a blowjob, or getting eaten out and enjoying it?"

Quiet tears were her only response.


I walked her back to the changing rooms. Her shoulders shook with sobs until I put her naked form into the shower, where she unthinkingly began to wash herself, teasing the cum out of her hair with shampoo. The distress faded from her face.

I cleaned my face, and slipped on the spare clothes I kept in the back. By the time I was done, the other guys had finished with their girls and sent them to be cleaned, body and mind. They queued up behind me as I set up my equipment, blankly waiting to be given a new purpose.

I won't go into details of what I did - I don't want to give you ideas - but soon they were dressed in their old clothes, and ready to go home, no memories of what had happened, just a vague sense of happiness and well being. Jeb positioned them just outside the door, waiting to be woken to life by their codeword.

I closed the door behind me. "Excuse me, ladies."

They started like toys that had been turned on. They looked confused for a second, and then moved out of my way.

"Have a good night?" I asked.

"Um, I guess," said Kirsten. "Yeah, I think it was fun."

There was no recognition in her eyes. She had no idea that I'd just raped her.

I climbed back into my car. As I got to the exit, she was crossing. A real dear in the headlights, I thought. I could kill her so easily by just stamping on the accelerator. But I didn't. I let her cross, and drove off into the night.

She'd be back next week.


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