Lapdancing Girlfriend Ch. 05

Velvet walked in immediately after Mr. DeWight and the older former spokesmodel left. Jen could only stand in the middle of the room, still unable to absorb the fact of this being her office, or what her newly discovered roles entailed.

Seeing her surprised face, Velvet asked her, "You didn't know?"

Jen looked at her, shaking her head, "No. How could he place so much responsibility in a woman he doesn't even know?" she asked.

Velvet looked at her intently, her gaze enough to cause Jen to look back at—her administrative assistant. "To be honest, the last couple DSA Spokesmodels didn't do jack shit for the company other than make movies and dance—which is fine as it pulls in the money, and that's all Mr. DeWight cares about. The other duties have been mostly stuff on paper to make the position 'official,' but nobody has ever taken them seriously," she told Jen. "Make no mistake, Mr. DeWight runs this company. He may give somebody flexibility to do what they want, but in the end, if he doesn't like the decision he WILL step in," she told Jen. "And trust me, you do not want to get on Mr. DeWight's bad side," she cautioned.

The tone of her voice caused Jen to look at the woman, asking, "What do you mean?"

Velvet shook her head. "This building has eyes and ears everywhere, maybe we'll talk some other time. My only word of warning is do what Mr. DeWight tells you to do, and your life will be much easier," she said.

The woman did not say anything more, and after a few awkward minutes of silence, she showed Jen how to work the computer. Jen's position allowed her access to the company records—at least those of every dancer ever employed by DSA. As an example, Velvet pulled up Diamond's record.

Jen was surprised to discover a recorded log under her performance category, and curiosity getting the better of her double-clicked the speaker icon, hearing Mr. DeWight's voice coming across the computer's speakers:

"Diamond is undoubtedly one of the best dancers I have ever seen in my life. Not only is she one of the most beautiful women I have ever beheld—her body being that of a supermodel with killer tits and ass, perfect skin, and legs anybody would want wrapped around them—but her face is one no man could not fall in lust with. If I hadn't already had an interest in her before, I would have as soon as I saw her.

"Although she only dances topless, I have plans for her doing more, and now that I've seen her in person I'm actually thinking of her possibly becoming the next spokesmodel of the company. As provocative as she is on the pole and the way she dances, she will undoubtedly be a fantastic fuck on and off screen, and the perfect woman to boost DSA profits.

Not only will I be able to satisfy my own agenda, but I will be making a profit doing so, so she is a win-win situation."

Jen clicked the 'Stop' button on the review, disgusted, flattered, and embarrassed all at once. Her disgust came from Mr. DeWight's blatant crude comments and discussion of her as if she were an ornament, or worse, a piece of meat. He had no remorse for what he planned on her doing or even whether or not she would agree, speaking of her like something he would see in a store and purchase for his own use. To him she was an object to be owned, not a person working for him.

Seeing the date of the recording, she was surprised it had been made over six months before he bought the club, apparently already having his sights on her.

Embarrassed at Velvet being next to her and hearing Mr. DeWight's comments about her, she closed the recording. Velvet did not say anything, merely showing Jen how to operate the climate controls, lighting, and other bells and whistles that came with the office—all controlled on her computer.

"Oh, and check this out," Velvet said, her composure seemingly more relaxed around Jen than Mr. DeWight and Elsie.

Clicking another icon with the mouse Jen was startled when shutters immediately dropped across the windowed wall, darkening the room. Velvet once again clicked on the screen and Jen was surprised when the lights immediately changed color, flooding the room with a deep purple hue with pink floodlights shining up the walls. Clicking another icon, the room changed into a deep ocean blue, which Velvet then changed to a deep green with another click of the mouse.

"The lights can be cycled manually or set in any order with any time setting you desire. It makes great mood lighting if you want to practice on the stage," she smiled, nodding to the stage. She showed Jen again how to change the settings, also demonstrating how to work the spot lights and strobe lights directed at the stage. "Although it's great for practicing yourself," she told her, "the main purpose is when you are auditioning girls," the young woman told her, reminding Jen of her other duties.

Seeing the surprise on her face, she smiled. "Obviously you'll have to see them dance. One of the requirements for every girl meeting you is to have a full set prepared for their interview," Velvet explained.

Her assistant—the term foreign to her—then showed her the full bath adjacent to the office complete with a large Jacuzzi able to seat at least three people comfortably. Also adjoining the office and bathroom was a small 'sitting room' containing a large flat-screened television, recliner, and fold-out sofa bed in case Jen wanted to rest or spend the night at the office.

Jen realized the office could basically serve as an overnight apartment if she chose, her mind completely numbed by the extravagance before her, still not believing it was hers or there was more to her job than her less savory endeavors.

Velvet then took Jen—or Diamond she thought in her mind, knowing she needed to get used to being addressed by her stripper persona—on a tour of the rest of the building. The young woman first showed here where the restrooms were located on the other floors, stating each level was pretty much a copy of the next, so it did not matter where in the building she was, she could always find what she wanted. There were also designated coffee and drink areas on each floor, containing free soda and coffee machines, as well as the main cafeteria on the fourteenth floor.

Finding out neither of them had anything to eat since the morning, Jen decided they should both get a late lunch at the cafeteria, so they found an empty table and each ordered a salad.

As they ate, Jen learned Velvet had been working at the local club—The Garden of Eden—for a year.

"I tried waitressing at a couple diners to earn some money to help me through college," she explained to Jen, who still had not come to grips of being the younger girl's boss, "but you don't earn any decent tips unless you ignore a customer's roaming hands," she was saying. "Even a few of the managers I had offered me bonuses if I 'helped them out in the back room,'" she explained with a grimace.

Jen recalled the time she had waitressed at a similar restaurant, so could relate with the young woman.

"Then a friend of mine at school mentioned an opening at the club she danced," Velvet told her. "At first I was a bit reluctant—I mean, not many girls pick taking off their clothes as a career choice—but after she told me about the money, the rest is history," she said. "It's good money, but with the internship, all my time is taken up by DSA with no time for myself or any social life. In fact, I've recently had my car break down, but don't have the time to get it fixed. I've also had a few other bills coming in so starting to worry about money once again and working additional shifts," she confided.

Jen told her about her own similar history of becoming a stripper. As they talked, she began to develop a friendship with the other woman, immediately taking a liking to her. Velvet was easy going and extremely laid back, reminding her of Mary and Denise back at the Satin Kitty, quickly forming a rapport with the girl.

"I would love if you could help me out on some pole routines sometime," Velvet asked. "I'm thinking if I can improve my act, it will get more tips, and the extra money will definitely help," she said, to which Jen agreed, telling her she often helped out the girls at the Satin Kitty.

Velvet told her Mr. DeWight had said something along those same lines, describing how he had told every dancer he came into contact with how the dancers at the Satin Kitty were some of the best he had ever seen—all because of her influence. She said Mr. DeWight had further stated the club—if not for the bad location of being in Oregon—could easily become the most popular one in the company due to Diamond's guidance on it.

Jen was flattered at the praise, her mind still astonished at her new roles and responsibilities. While her mind dwelled on everything she learned, Velvet led the conversation, talking about her life, schoolwork, and DSA in general.

Once again Jen grasped there was more to the company than her and other women's exploitation against their will, reminded of the innocent people such as Velvet simply making a living beyond the seedy underworld of drugs, prostitution, and other illegal activities.

Finished with their late lunch, Velvet took Jen around the rest of the building—occasionally introducing her to people she would come into contact while working at the main office. Just as in the lobby, Jen was greeted by people happily welcoming her into the company or telling her how much they admired her dancing and acting, making her uncomfortable with all the attention. In fact, she felt more comfortable at the open leers of the men she passed, their gazes making her feel like she should take a shower to wash off the dirt their leers left behind as it was typical of the looks she got at the club compared to people praising her for her 'work' at the company.

Hearing the comments of everybody she met, she knew none of these people cared if she willingly performed for the camera or was forced into it. She was the symbol of the company and they knew her success—forced or not—would become their own success. In fact, it was apparent many of them believed her to willingly be the spokesmodel, and she knew with her recorded videos of sex with Mr. DeWight and the blowjob with Tim edited to make it look like she was a willing participant, they accepted her participation at face value. Explaining otherwise to them was pointless, so she merely thanked them for their praise and moved on; soon enough she would be playing the role of a willing participant anyways to maintain her cover with the FBI, and telling these people otherwise was pointless.

Finally Velvet took her to the HR department, where the rest of the afternoon was spent filling out papers for benefits, taking several online compliance courses, and learning the entire DSA mantra on selling adult entertainment—to sum up in only a few words: if it was sexy, it could be sold. The old adage of 'Sex Sells' was truer for this company than any other, and it was obvious the company excelled at it.

Jen also received her employee keycard/badge, as well as a stack of similar cards for each of the girls at both the Satin Kitty and Wet Cherry to hand out when she returned the following week. It was explained to her while the other badges only worked for the respective club each girl worked at, her badge—that of the VP of Ecdysiast Services—granted her access to every club the company owned, as well as most areas in the building, confirming the statements made to her by the FBI agents.

"All the electronic locks are networked together and feed into one system," the IT assistant, a young man who could not take his eyes off Jen's breasts the entire time, explained. "Just realize having access to a particular area does not necessarily mean you should be there," he smiled," so use your discretion and only go where you need to be," he told her, explaining how the logs were reviewed every night.

She what she had been told by the FBI agents, that as the DSA Spokesmodel she would have access to places they could never hope to obtain, also remembering the device looking like a badge on a cable Nick had given her, stating it could be used to hide her access by repeating the last card swiped. Things were becoming real she thought, hoping the device worked as described as she took the package of cards back to her office.

Her office—the phrase still sounded odd. Entering through the double-glass doors she was once again greeted by Velvet, who was preparing to leave.

Looking at the clock Jen was surprised to see it was already past seven o'clock—having spent almost four hours at the HR department. Velvet was getting ready to head to the club as she had to work tonight, telling Jen, "I'd ask for you to come, but Mr. DeWight said he doesn't want you at the club until after your debut Friday," she smiled, "and besides, you would pull away all the good tips from us honest working girls," she laughed.

Velvet also went over Jen's schedule for the next day, "First thing in the morning you have a meeting with the PR folks who will help you deal with the growing number of reporters that will be hitting you," she said, reminding Jen of her experience earlier at the airport. "Afterwards you have a photo shoot with Melissa, one of our top photographers," she said.

Seeing Jen's expression Velvet smiled, immediately guessing her thoughts. "It is a solo bikini shoot, so nothing outrageous," she said to Jen's relief.

Although she would soon enough be forced into her role as a sex object, Jen was still unprepared for what her job entailed as Velvet explained her photo-shoots for the week.

"Mr. DeWight felt you should be slowly introduced into the modeling aspect of your spokesmodel role," Velvet told her to Jen's relief, broken by her next comment. "I will tell you the other two shoots scheduled this week will probably be explicit," she said, knowing Jen would not be happy as she shrugged. "It's really up to Melissa the photographer as to what you will do. She'll decide how well you are doing in front of the camera and take it from there," she said.

Finally she showed Jen how to call her limo—it being permanently assigned to her for all travel—which would take her to her hotel room she was already checked in, handing Jen her key card before bidding her good night and reminding Jen she needed to be back by eight in the morning for her first meeting.

Jen groaned at the early time, knowing with L.A. traffic she would have to leave the hotel even earlier to be on time.

She suddenly sobered at her thoughts, actually feeling like she had a real job, not something like dancing at the club, which although sometimes felt like work, never gave her the impression of being an actual 'job.'

Jen had always wanted to go to college for a real job, but could never afford it. She and Dan had long ago planned on her going back to school once they married. Her thoughts were becoming an administrative assistant—very similar to Velvet's role—possibly at some law firm, working herself up the ranks until she might become a paralegal. And now, through the sheer luck of being born with a good figure and looks, she was the DSA Spokesmodel, vice president in charge of several hundred employees! Granted those employees were workers in the adult industry—strippers, porn actresses and the like—but she actually felt like she was WORKING.

It was an odd feeling as she picked up the phone and called for her car to take her to the hotel, knowing she needed to get to bed early to get back early in the morning.

While waiting for her car to arrive she relaxed in the adjoining room, snooping around and finding a fully stocked wet bar to which she helped herself to a large glass of Grey Goose on the rocks. Drink in hand she looked around the room some more, finding the bureau in the room to contain intimate apparel—all in her size—ranging from underwear and stockings to sexy lingerie. The nearby closet contained several dresses—again all sized to her—finding everything from club outfits to a formal gown. All the clothing was new, expensive, and as she noted earlier, all in her size. She recalled what Tim had told her about her entire wardrobe being provided and how it had not cost Mr. DeWight anything as she looked over the clothing, still not believing it was hers.

Her exploration was broken a few minutes later when her phone rang, announcing the arrival of her car at front of the building, so Jen headed down the elevator. She was again greeted by various people she did not know also leaving for the day, surprised to see the foyer as full of people as earlier in the day.

Once again she was aware of all the men's eyes on her, looking at her explicitly as her pulse again quicken as she exited the building.

Stepping out of the revolving glass door she was suddenly hit by the late summer heat, seeing the white limousine parked on the curb. Standing beside the car she recognized the same chauffer who had driven her earlier—and who had watched Mr. DeWight get her off she realized ashamedly.

The man smiled knowingly at her as he held open the door, helping her into the car before they headed to her hotel.

The car was cool from the air conditioner, and Jen could feel her nipples sticking out from her dress without even looking down. Several times she caught the limousine driver watching her through the rear view mirror, making her uncomfortable until she finally put up the divider between them. She noted the obvious displeasure on the man's face before the partition closed, but her thoughts were too busy going over the events of the day to worry about it as she leaned back into the leather seats.

She must have drifted off to sleep, as she was suddenly awoken to the car stopping. Before she could get her bearings the door opened revealing a young, cute bellhop who held out his hand to help her out of the car.

As the bellhop led her to the doors of the hotel she looked back, telling the limousine driver they needed to be at the office no later than 7:30 am—her wanting to get there early enough to settle in—asking him what time they should leave.

The driver once again looked at her angrily as he told her to be down no later than 6:15 am before he got back into the car and drove off.

She would have wondered on the driver's emotions had it not been for the bellhop who opened the door for her, drawing her attention from the receding limousine as she was hit by a blast of cold air, entering the air conditioned building and heading to the elevator.

She was amazed at the opulence of the hotel lobby, surprised when the elevator opened and there was actually a bellhop inside, asking her what floor. Another couple—an elderly gentleman and woman—also entered the elevator, and after the bellhop hit their 12th floor and her 20th floor, the doors closed.

As the elevator rose, Jen could not help but notice the elderly man's attention on her. Looking up at him, he smiled, so she smiled back. As the elevator doors opened and his female companion exited, she was suddenly startled as his hand reached out to her own, handing her a card.

After the elevator doors closed once again Jen looked at the card, seeing the man's name—James Blackwood—as well as his phone number. She could only stare at the card in shock and embarrassment as she realized he must have thought she was an escort girl in the hotel, feeling her face flushing at the knowing glance from the bellhop.

Thankfully the elevator reached her floor and she stepped out, following the signs to her room number, 2015.

Using the keycard to open the door, Jen stood in the doorway dumbfounded as she looked into the room—or suite, she corrected herself. Stepping into the suite she saw the main room was divided into a living room area, with a large king-sized bed on the other end. The living room area had a large plush L-shaped sofa, coffee table, and Victorian-era arm chair, a 42" television, and a full wet bar of to one side. The sleeping area was dominated by the large bed, an adjoining bathroom with a full-sized Jacuzzi tub and full glassed-in shower. Off from the living room/bedroom area was a sunken sunroom open to the city with a small dining table and four chairs, as well as a small tuffet to sit upon.