Sweet Bliss

Katy ended up registering at Wichita Community College, which she rationalized would work at least until she got her feet on the ground and or turned twenty-one so she could apply for financial aid without her parent's involvement. For a small fee, WCC would allow students to pay in installments, as long as the last payment was received before the end of the semester.

She felt she could manage that, but she still needed a job. Though Veronica and Emily always seemed to be broke, they somehow managed to make ends meet, so she decided to ask for their help in finding employment.

When Katy asked about their source of income, Veronica simply smiled before saying, "Well, we're both dancers."

Puzzled, Katy questioned, "Dancers?"

"Yeah, we both dance at the Camel Toe Club -- ever heard of it?" Emily chimed in with a devilish smile.

Katy sat silently for a few seconds before asking, "Isn't that a strip club?"

"Yeah," Veronica said. "Strip club, gentleman's club, titty bar -- whatever you want to call it."

Katy just sat pondering the situation for a moment. She realized she should have already known this and felt stupid that she's lived in the same apartment with these two girls for almost a week before the subject even came up. She wasn't offended; she was just surprised. "Well -- what do you do exactly?" she finally asked.

Realizing that they may have a fresh recruit, Veronica said, "Well, you just dance. When you're on the main stage, you get to pick your own music, and then you'll dance one dance with your top on and then one dance with your top off. Then generally, you'll move to the side stage and do it again -- only it will be the next girl's music."

"You can dance both songs on the side stage topless if you want to," Emily added. "That's what most girls do."

Katy had never been to a strip club in her life -- never even dreamed of it. But after hooking up with Ricky, she had learned a lot about sex -- and she certainly liked that. So, the whole idea wasn't repulsive to her. It was just something she had never even given the slightest thought to.

Veronica got up to get Katy a beer from the refrigerator, and as she handed it to her, Katy asked, "Okay, so do you actually get fully nude?"

"No -- no," Emily laughed. "That's why it's called the Camel Toe Club. You never get completely naked; you just show your tits and the biggest camel toe you can. That's how you get tips -- that's how you make your money."

Katy had never heard the term 'Camel Toe' before, but she was pretty sure she knew what it meant. And she didn't really want to ask to confirm her suspicions as she didn't want to appear naive or stupid. But she was curious about the money. "So, how much do you get paid?" she asked.

Both Veronica and Emily laughed at that. "Well Katy," Veronica explained. "You work for tips. You'll get a handful of one-dollar bills plus maybe an occasional five or ten while on stage. Then when you aren't on stage, and that's most of the time, you'll ask guys if they want a table dance and if they say yes -- well, then that's twenty bucks per dance. That's how you make your money."

"You can make as much as $500 a night," Emily volunteered.

"Yeah, but it's usually a lot less than that," Veronica said. "I've had a $500 night, but that's the exception. I've also had $100 nights, but that's pretty much the exception too. Generally, it's about $200 to $300 a night -- net after tipping out, of course."

"Tipping out?" Katy asked.

"Yeah," Emily said. "You don't actually get paid. You pay to work there. You have to pay the club a percent of your tips -- a percent of your table dances. Then you have to tip the DJ for playing your music and the bar tenders for getting your customers drunk. And then the rest is yours -- tax-free!"

"Tax-free," Katy exclaimed!

Again, Veronica and Emily both laughed. "It's cash money Katy, you can pay whatever taxes you want," Veronica said, trying not to laugh at Katy's naivety. "But trust me, most girls don't pay a dime in taxes."

"Oh, and you have to have a stripper name," Emily added.

"A stripper name," Katy asked?

"Yeah," Veronica said. "No one uses their real name in the club. So, you'll have to choose a stripper name. Like I go by Roni in the club and Emily dances by the name Envy -- it's just to separate fantasy from reality -- and of course, it helps to protect you. You really don't want any customer to know your real name."

"Well, how about Kat -- could I just go by Kat?" Katy asked.

Both girls nodded their approval. "Yeah, I think that's fine, as long as no other girl at the club is using it -- and I don't think anyone is," Veronica said.

"Okay," Katy said after a long swig of cold beer and then thinking back to her experience at Jackson. "Do the guys get to touch you?"

Veronica and Emily both looked at each other to see who was going to answer that one. Veronica finally said, "Well, they are not supposed to. They can get thrown out of the club for touching you, but you are working for tips, and the club is rather dark, so use your discretion. If the guy is a 'good guy' and he's tipping you -- then fine. But if the guy is a jerk or he goes someplace you don't want him to go -- stop him. And if he doesn't stop, just get up, and one of the bartenders will throw his ass out onto the street."

Katy was starting to feel more comfortable with the whole concept now. And after another long swig of beer, she asked, "So are there any other rules?"

Veronica was quick to answer. "Yeah, if you sign up to work -- you'd better be there! Be ready to go on stage as soon as the DJ cues you -- that's usually about once an hour -- depending on how many girls are working. Don't get drunk -- the bar tenders and cocktail girls can help you there. And then there are the big ones. Don't ever get into a fight -- with anybody. And the biggest of all -- never, ever steal! Don't steal from a customer and never ever from another girl or the club. That is the fastest way to get your ass fired!"

Now it was Katy's turn to laugh, "How can you get fired if you're paying to work there?"

Emily laughed out loud, "Well, that's just what the girls call it. It means they send you home for the night, and if you have any money on you, they may try to fine you. But it's usually just for the night. They always need dancers, so unless you're 'fired' for fighting or for stealing, you're usually welcomed back in a day or two."

Katy now got up and walked to the refrigerator and brought back the remainder of the six-pack for the three of them to finish off. "Okay, I said that was my last question, but I've got one more. You said the customers can't touch you, well what if they want to meet you outside the club? You know, 'date' you."

The two girls looked at each other and smiled. After another swig of beer, Veronica finally said, "Officially, you can get fired for dating a customer outside the club. That's a big no-no because first, they want to protect their girls, and they don't want you to either leave the club early or to get into any kind of trouble. But secondly, Wichita is still a very conservative town -- as you know -- and they don't want to be accused of being a whore house or a place where guys can go to pick up chicks. It's for your safety, and it's a good policy."

"So, have you ever done it?" Katy asked, looking both girls straight in the eyes.

"I don't think Veronica ever has," Emily said. "I have a couple of times -- but I shouldn't, it's stupid and dangerous, and I'm just a slut -- there I said it."

All three girls laughed at that as they shared the remaining beers.

Katy met with the club's manager the next day. He had her dance a couple of songs in her underwear before the club opened and then went over pretty much the same rules Veronica and Emily had mentioned the night before. And with the aid of the female assistant manager, they helped her pick-out several costumes to get started with. She started that night and netted $120 after tipping out. Everyone congratulated her on her first night and assured her she was a natural.

Two weeks later, she registered for the fall semester at WCC and paid her new roommates one-third of the monthly rent. It was undoubtedly nothing her parents would have been proud of -- but she was. She was on her own for the first time in her life, and it felt good.

* * *

As Katy's hips swung to the beat of Led Zeppelin's Whole Lotta Love, a nice-looking middle-aged gentleman slowly walked up to the stage. It was her first song of the set, and she still had her top on, but as he approached the stage, she realized he had a folded bill in his hand. Katy had learned early on to never miss the opportunity to accept a tip. She squatted down in front of him and held the strap of her G-String out to receive the folded bill. As their eyes met, he appeared to be locked in a trance. She raised her free hand to her breast to pull her top back and expose a nipple -- but he shook his head no and stuffed the neatly folded bill under her G-String. She thanked him for the tip by blowing him a little kiss, and as she stood to resume the dance, she glanced down at the only bill on her hip and realized it was a twenty -- not the usual one-dollar bill.

She quickly dropped her top, thinking he might come back to the stage, but he didn't for the rest of that dance, her second dance of the set, or for either of the two required dances on the side stage. But she did keep her eye on him, and as soon as her last dance of the set was complete, she dashed to his table.

He was sitting comfortably alone at a table in the middle of the club with a whiskey in his hand. Katy was glad to see that he was drinking whiskey as it was a little more sophisticated than the usual beer, and it frequently meant he had more money and might even get drunk a little faster. Dancers quickly learned that for most men, there was a direct correlation between the amount of alcohol consumed and willingness to spend money.

"I want to thank you for the very generous tip," Katy said as she stood beside him.

He had never taken his eyes off of her since walking into the club. "You're the most beautiful girl I think I've ever seen in my life," he said as she stood next to him, waiting for an invitation to join him.

"May I join you?" she asked.

"Oh yes, of course," he said as he jumped to his feet and held a chair for her.

"I'm Kat," she said, offering her hand.

Softly accepting her hand, he first gently shook it before lightly kissing it. Katy usually didn't like guys doing that -- it just seemed a little over the top -- but for some reason, this guy seemed okay. "I'm Buck," he said. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Kat. May I buy you a drink?"

He had quite a pile of money neatly stacked on the table, and Katy figured this might just be her lucky night. "Sure," she said as she waved to one of the cocktail waitresses her standard order; a Ladies Drink -- high in fruit juice and low in alcohol.

"So, I've never seen you here before," Buck said. "Have you worked here long?"

"Oh, almost two years," Katy responded.

"Wow, where have I've been?" Buck exclaimed.

"Well, I just work several nights a week," Katy said.

"So, what do you do with the rest of your time," Buck asked.

"I'm a college student," Katy answered cautiously as she didn't want to give him too much personal information just in case this guy was some sort of weirdo. "And what do you do?" she asked, tactfully turning the conversation back to him.

"I'm a pilot. I fly for this little organization called the US Air Force. Maybe you've heard of them?" he said with a flirtatious smile.

"Oh yeah, so you work at McConnell," she said, perfectly aware that many of their regular customers worked at the Air Force base, which was only a couple of miles away.

"Yes Ma'am," he said, almost sitting up at attention. "But don't get all excited; it isn't fighters or anything sexy like that. It's tankers. I fly the mighty KC-135 Stratotanker -- the Air Force's flying gas station."

As Katy had lived in Wichita all her life, she knew what a KC-135 was -- she had seen them overhead almost every day since childhood. But this was the first time she'd ever met someone that actually flew them. And just as she was trying to think of something witty to say, the song changed, and that was her chance to make some money. "Would you like a table dance?" she asked with sweet doe eyes.

Buck eased back in his chair. Usually, this was an affirmative response to such a proposition. But instead of the answer she was expecting, he said, "No -- I've seen you on stage. I would just prefer your company." And with that, he slid a twenty-dollar bill across the table to her.

This continued for the rest of the evening. After every other song, as a fresh dancer took to the stage, Buck would slide another twenty-dollar bill across the table, and Katy would graciously slip it under her G-String. And when Katy performed her obligatory four songs on stage for public display, as soon as she returned to Buck's table, two more fresh twenties were waiting for her.

Typically, most dancers would not welcome such constant attention from just one customer, but Buck was charming, funny, and always the gentleman. Katy left that night with over $400 -- the best night she had had in months.

As the bartender put out the 'last call for alcohol' for the evening, Buck asked, "So Kat, I'm sorry it took so long for us to meet. I totally enjoyed myself this evening, and I'd love to visit with you the next time you're scheduled to work. What nights are you normally here?"

Katy paused for a moment to consider if there was any downside to this guy becoming a regular. She was aware that sometimes customers can get too attached to a particular dancer, grow to eventually consider her his private property, and then cause a disturbance when she performed or paid attention to another customer. But she actually liked Buck, and though he was at least twenty-five years her senior, he was charming to visit with, and more importantly, he seemed to have lots of money. And since she did have expenses, she responded with, "I generally work Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday nights. Mondays and Wednesdays work well with my class schedule, and then, well, Saturday is just usually a good night."

"Well then, I'll be back Saturday -- keep an eye out for me as I would love to continue our conversation," he said before sliding his chair back for the last time, standing and kissing her hand again before heading out the front door.

Katy was impressed that he could still walk after drinking four or five Jack Daniels (Jack n' Branch as he called them), but he was a big man, and he actually did start to pace himself once he was comfortable that she was going to sit with him as long as he stayed in the club. She didn't tell Veronica or Emily about Buck. She was afraid they would give her the usual lecture on dancer etiquette about getting too comfortable with any one customer. But after almost two years working at the club, she felt she didn't need any further advice from them. She just told them she had a good night and doled out the back rent she owed them, plus a little extra for groceries.

Over the next five or six weeks, Buck took his regular table for most of Katy's shift every Saturday plus an additional two or three hours during the week. She learned that he was from Texas and had been in the Air Force for twenty years -- most of that time flying refuelers. Over the course of his career, he had been stationed all over the world, and though he had had more than one long-term girlfriend, he had never been married and had no children.

Keeping with the dancer's code of conduct, Katy said very little about her personal life. Only that she was a college student majoring in art, that she was single, and that she was estranged from her parents. Buck gently probed several times about her parents, but she always artfully dodged those types of inquiries by asking another question about him. 'Always have the customer talk about themselves' was a long-standing stripper mantra. 'Girls are far sexier if they remain mysterious' is a time-honored refrain among exotic dancers.

About the seventh week after their initial meeting, Buck failed to show up for three nights in a row. Strangely she actually missed him and hoped that he would return soon. Of course, she liked the easy money, but she had also grown to actually like the guy.

The following Monday night, as she took the stage for her first dance of the night, there he was sitting at his usual table. Only he was in uniform for the first time, and he did not look his usual cheerful self. The first thought that came to her was that he had been transferred, and this was the last time she'd see him. She anxiously danced her four required dances and then dashed to his table as quickly as possible.

"Hey Buck," she said as she plopped into her usual chair. "I missed you -- is everything okay?"

Taking a moment to choose his words carefully, he said solemnly, "My Mom passed away...."

Before he could finish his sentence, Katy holding her hands over her mouth in shock interrupted him with, "Oh My God, Buck, I am so sorry."

Holding his hand up to stop her, Buck said. "Kat, it's okay. My Dad passed away four years ago, and to be honest, I'm surprised my Mom lasted this long. She has been sick for several years and has lived in a nursing home for over a year. Her quality of life was horrible, and now at least, she's at peace and with Dad. That was all she ever wanted anyway."

Katy sat in stone silence for almost a minute. This was certainly not the usual strip club conversation and certainly not one she thought she would ever be having sitting in a bar wearing nothing, but a bikini top and G-String stuffed with one-dollar bills. "Buck, I don't know what to say," she finally said.

"Kat," Buck said slowly, again carefully choosing his words. "I have to go home to Texas to start wrapping up my parent's affairs, and I want you to go with me."

Startled, Katy replied, "I can't, I have school -- and I have to work."

Buck had already anticipated these arguments. "You have Spring Break coming up in two weeks -- right?" She nodded yes. "And I bet you haven't been on an actual vacation in years?" he added.

Katy hadn't had a vacation since high school, and that was with her parents. But more to the point, she realized that going out-of-town, and particularly on vacation, with a member of the opposite sex meant sleeping with him. She knew this day had been coming for some time, but now that it was here, she didn't really know what to say.

She hadn't been totally celibate since moving in with Veronica and Emily, but those were just one-night-stands, usually with friends of the guys her roommates had brought home for the night. These guys were generally musicians and always around her age. She didn't know them; it was just sex. And the next morning, they'd be gone, which was okay with her. It wasn't romance -- it was just sex.

On the other hand, Buck was at least twenty-five years older than her, maybe even her Dad's age and that was very creepy. However, Buck was someone she actually liked -- and she wasn't sure if she thought of him as a potential lover or more of a father figure. Of course, you don't flap your tits at your father, and Buck had always been an absolute gentleman -- so it was easy to understand why she was so conflicted.

Still unsure of what to do and stalling for more time to think, Katy finally said, "I'm planning on transferring to Wichita State in the fall, and I really need to work -- I need the money."

Grateful that she hadn't immediately said no, but realizing that she hadn't said yes yet either, Buck upped the ante. "Kat, I'll pay for your vacation. I know the club doesn't offer paid time off -- or any benefits for that matter -- so I'll pay you what you would have made working through your spring break."