“Do you take this man to be your husband?”  Reverend Burke, the preacher at our local church, asked his question for the second time, staring at me with a confused look on his face.

I can’t do this.

“...”  My reply was silence.

I had rehearsed the moment, but when it finally came, I couldn’t force my tongue to form the words.  I dropped my bouquet and turned to the crowd.  They looked at me with the same confused stare I saw etched on Reverend Burke’s face.  My eyes drifted to the man I was supposed to wed and the groomsmen standing behind him.  I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t become his wife.  I grabbed the train on my dress and started running, hearing the immediate uproar of those in attendance.  I ran until I had cleared the grass and felt pavement beneath my heels.

“Johanna!  Johanna, wait!”  I could hear Scott’s voice, but it didn’t slow me down.

Don’t turn around.  Just keep running.

One of my heels snapped as I ran, and I almost twisted my ankle.  I nearly went face first into the pavement, but even that didn’t make me stop.  I could hear Scott continuing to call my name and that was enough to keep me going.  I stumbled along with a limp, but finally made it to the limousine we had arranged to take us to the reception.  I took one look over my shoulder at Scott, and then surprised the driver by opening the passenger side door.  It appeared that he was snoozing as he waited for us.

“Take me to my hotel.”  I slid into the front seat.

“Ma’am?  Is the wedding over?  Shouldn’t we wait on your husband?”  He blinked in surprise several times.

“I don’t have a husband and I never will.”  I turned and looked at the driver as Scott ran up to the limousine.

“Johanna, what are you doing?”  Scott slammed his hand on the window several times.  “We’re supposed to get married!”

“Drive!”  I reached over and slapped the driver’s shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am.”  The driver looked confused, but he turned the key, which automatically locked the door a second before Scott tried to open it.

People would think I was an awful person.  I left Scott at the altar.  Scott was nice, polite, very attractive, and if I would have said the magic words, he would have been mine forever.  That was the problem.  I had no idea what I truly wanted.  I agreed to marry Scott because he asked, not because I loved him.  I thought I was following the formula life put in front of me.  I had an amazing boyfriend, at least that was what everyone said.  That was supposed to lead to eternal happiness and a tribe of babies.  The formula was boring.  I wanted passion and desire.  No matter how nice and attractive Scott was, he had neither of those.

***

TWO WEEKS LATER

“Yes, we’re definitely hiring.  Come on in and I’ll see if the owner can meet with you.”  The large man in front of me pulled the door open and motioned for me to enter the building.

The smell of cigarette smoke, cheap booze, and total desperation assaulted my sense of smell as I followed him past the curtain that separated the lobby from the rest of the club.  The lights were dim and there was a woman on a stage, writhing around a pole with her breasts on full display.  A few men were sitting next to the stage holding money for her to take, but they weren’t making much noise.  It was hard to hear anything over the music, but they didn’t seem to be doing much more than staring.

“Wait here.”  The bouncer pointed at a chair next to the wall.  “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, thank you.”  I felt nervousness in my stomach as I walked over and sat down.

A bus ticket got me to Reno.  What little money I had saved up, combined with what I got from pawning my engagement ring, got me an apartment.  The only thing missing from my new life was a job.  I had graduated high school and decided college wasn’t for me because I was already engaged to Scott.  He was supposed to leave for seminary after graduation, but he wanted us to get married first.  Scott’s father was a fire-spewing Southern Baptist preacher in the heart of tiny Dahlonega, Georgia and one of the only men I had ever truly feared.  When he sat us down and told us there would be no sex until marriage, that became law. Three agonizing years passed with nothing more than a kiss and the desires I had when we first started dating slowly faded away.  It was boring.

“Mr. Carson will speak with you.”  The bouncer returned and motioned for me to follow him.

I followed the bouncer down a long hallway that was even darker than the strip club.  I was about to beg for a job that I didn’t want, but I didn’t have much of a choice.  I had tried every conventional job I could think of, but the only one that even offered to hire me was a diner.  I spent two days making little to nothing from tips, and once I did the math, I realized I would need at least four of those jobs just to cover my monthly expenses.  One thing I was good at was dancing.  I had never stripped before or danced for money, but my pride had been shelved in favor of freedom once when I became the disgrace of my small southern town.  Ending up on a stripper pole sounded like a perfect next step in what my mother called my spiritual downfall.

“I’m Eddie Carson.”  A man with greasy black hair and a cigar protruding from his lips stood up as I walked into the office.

“I’m Johanna.  Johanna Vance.”  I stood awkwardly in front of his desk once the door was closed.

“Do you have any experience dancing?”  His lips squeezed the cigar and the tip glowed as he stared at me.

“I’ve danced before.”  I nodded and tightened the death grip I had on my purse.

“Well let’s see them, then.”  He waved his hand in my direction and pulled the cigar out of his mouth.

“What?”  I raised my eyebrows and watched as he pulled his chair to the side of his desk and took a seat.

“Your tits, sweetheart.  They’re going to be paying to see your tits, so let me see if they’re worth the money.”  He waved his hand at me again.

“Right...”  I took a deep breath and put my purse on the couch.

“You seem nervous.  I thought you said you had experience.”  He narrowed his eyes at me.  “If it takes you this long to get your tits out, you’re not going to be very popular out there.”

I started unbuttoning my blouse, fumbling with each button as my fingers pushed them through the hole.  It was a lot easier to take off my clothes in my head.  Actually doing it with the leering eyes of the rather disgusting man in front of me focused directly on my chest made my stomach sour.  I finally got my blouse off and dropped it on the couch next to my purse.  My nervous fingers reached behind my back and started to unfasten my bra.  I had never exposed myself to a man before.  Scott was always a gentleman and turned away whenever I needed to change my clothes.  I finished unfastening my bra and swallowed hard as I let the straps slide down my arms.

“Those look delicious.”  Mr. Carson chuckled and puffed his cigar once my breasts were exposed to him.  “All right, let me see your cunt, but make it slow. I want my cock to be throbbing before those panties come off.”

Mr. Carson rubbed his crotch and squeezed the outline of his penis.  I felt my stomach try to do a somersault and every bit of my breakfast tried to hurl itself through my esophagus.  I managed to swallow and stop myself from vomiting, but I felt my head start to spin.  I needed the job.  As much as it destroyed every bit of my dignity to take my clothes off for a stranger, I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice.  I wasn’t welcome back home.  My family had disowned me.  The only friend I had left in Georgia said that Scott’s father had delivered a fiery sermon that turned the rest of the town against me.  She was certain I would be burned at the stake if I showed my face there again.

“Get on with it.”  Mr. Carson puffed his cigar until it was glowing bright.  “This is supposed to be quick.  You won’t have the stage for long.  Most of that time needs to be spent showing off your cunt so people throw money at you.”

I started slowly moving my hips from side to side, matching the beat of the music I could still hear through the walls of his office.  My youth was spent in ballet and I loved all forms of dancing.  Scott and I spent countless hours downloading videos and practicing different dances in my living room.  The ones with very little contact were his favorite, but I did convince him to try a few that required him to put his hands on my body.  I never thought that would lead to stripping, nor did I think it would end up being the only thing that could potentially pay my bills.

“There we go.”  Mr. Carson nodded as I slid my jeans down my hips.  “Show me that beautiful ass.”

He licked his lips when my jeans got down to my knees.  I turned away from him and bent over, continuing to match the beat of the music with my motions.  I slid off my shoes and turned back towards him with a quick spin.  I might not have liked what I was doing, but I did have a few moves.  I showed them off as I kicked my jeans to the side and bent over so he could see my ass against the outline of my panties.  He nodded and a grin formed on his lips.  I took a few steps back, teased removing my panties, and then pulled my hands away.

“Okay, maybe you do know what you’re doing.”  He puffed on his cigar and started rubbing himself slowly.

I moved closer to him and I could see a clear outline of his erection pushed against his pants.  His fingers ran along the length several times and he seemed almost mesmerized.  The sick feeling in my stomach returned for a moment, but I fought it off and bent over again.  I slid my fingers into the waistband of my panties and pushed them halfway down my ass, letting them stay there for a moment as I moved to the music.  I took a deep breath and slowly pushed them down until I could feel the air on my vagina.  I stood up and gravity did the rest, sending them to the floor.  Mr. Carson nodded as I turned back towards him.

“Okay, if you can get me hard, then you’ll be a hit out there.  You’re going to need to shave your pussy, though.  I can’t see anything through that bush.  I trust you’re at least eighteen or have a fake ID that says you are?”  He stood up and walked closer to me.  “I don’t give a shit, but I don’t need the cops shutting me down.”

“Yes.”  I nodded in confirmation.  “I’m eighteen.”

“Good.”  He smiled and walked to the couch.  “Then you’re old enough to give me a lap dance.”

“I just wanted to stay on the stage.”  I swallowed hard as he sat down and spread his legs wide.

“Yeah, that isn’t how it works, sweetheart.  The customers see what they like up there and then they pay extra to have you all to themselves.  If you can’t grind their balls, then you aren’t working here.”  He leaned over and stabbed out his cigar in an ashtray.  “It’s up to you.”

“No, I need this job.”  I swallowed the bile trying to rise up in my esophagus.

“Normally you’d have your clothes on, but we can skip that part and you can just come sit on Daddy’s lap.”  He patted his knee and smiled.  “The faster you make me cum, the faster you can get out there and start earning tips.”

“I have to—make you cum?”  I blinked and my eyes widened in shock.

“You don’t have to fuck anybody while you work here unless you want to, but you’re going to grind that ass on their dick until they stop paying.”  He rubbed his penis through his pants again and adjusted it until it was pointed towards his abdomen and pressed against the fabric.  “Do you want this job or not?”

As revolting as the idea was, I did need the money.  My morality had already been compromised and my dignity was a becoming a memory of the person I was.  I walked over, straddled him, and slowly started to grind myself against his erection.  I had never felt one before.  Scott had definitely never gotten one that I was aware of when were together.  When I started to move against it, I felt my clitoris getting stimulated from the contact.  I moaned lightly and closed my eyes, trying my best to make the experience end as quickly as possible.  I wasn’t attracted to Mr. Carson in any way, but my body didn’t seem to care.  The rubbing still made me wet, just like it did when I secretly pleasured myself.

“Turn around and grind it with your ass, not your cunt.  This is for them, not you.”  Mr. Carson shook his head back and forth.  “You’ve never given anyone a lap dance, have you?”

“No.”  I sighed and turned around on his lap.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.  I’ll let you watch some of the other girls to understand how it works before I turn you loose with a customer.”  He pulled my hips down until his erection was in the crevice of my ass.  “Feel that?  That’s what you’re going for.  Tease them with your tits, finish them with the ass.”

I started to grind again, slowly moving my ass along the length of his cock.  It seemed to get even harder and throbbed as I did.  There was no more stimulation on my clitoris from that angle, so it just turned into work instead of pleasure.  He didn’t seem to care, because he was getting exactly what he wanted.  The lap dance didn’t last long.  The faster I moved, the more he moaned, and after a few minutes, I felt his cock start to pulsate.  His breathing got hurried and then he gasped, rolling forward as he ejaculated in his pants.  I immediately stood up and started gathering my clothes, feeling like a disgusting whore.

“You’ll do just fine.”  He smiled and stood up.  “Let’s go pick out some music for you.”