Sweet Gwendoline Ch. 04

I still attempted to walk with my shoulders and arms relaxed, although my nipples betrayed me and broadcast to anyone with eyes that I wasfarfrom relaxed.

"I feel like a stripper," I complained to my audience as I walked back and forth, exposing almost every inch of my feminine charms. The tiny piece of fabric that was stretched tightly across my loins barely covered anything.

"Don't ever sneer at strippers," Lyndsay admonished me. "Do you have any idea how much money strippers make?"

The question caught me off guard and my slowed down and came to a complete halt in front of Lyndsay. "Um, not really no."

"A stripper with your kind of body could make three times the amount of money you make at that bank, working as a teller. If you'd like, I could help you get started. I know people at an agency that books, promotes and trains strippers."

I felt my heart beat painfully hard in my chest and my throat seemed to constrict at even the suggestion of stripping for a living. I already felt awkward and embarrassed enough just from stripping for an audience of just two people. What would I feel like if I were to strut my naked ass out in front of an audience of twenty? Or fifty? Or a hundred?

I hesitated to answer and began to say articulate things like, "um," and "I'm not really sure," however my weak response gave Julie the opportunity to step and enthusiastically exclaim, "Gwen!Three times the amount of money you're currently making? Youhave tolet Lyndsay help you get into this kind of gig!"

"Julie!"I protested, "If you seriously think taking your clothes off in front of dozens of ogling strangers is a great career move, why don't you try it?"

Julie seemed somewhat surprised by my question, but then she stood up and theatrically did a spin, displaying her body to the entire room.

"This is why," she proclaimed loudly, "I have a really cute face and a flat tummy, but my breasts are too small to be a stripper, and I've got an ass like a ten-year old boy!"

Then she noticed that her wine glass was empty and she went to fetch the wine bottle so she could pour herself some more wine.

As she poured, she added, "You Gwen, have been blessed with some really wonderful breasts and an ass that's the perfect size and shape! I hate to downplay my own assets, but you've got a way nicer body than I do!"

Once again, Julie and Lyndsay double-teamed me and once again, they pressured me into agreeing to do what they wanted. I told Lyndsay to set up an interview with her friends at the entertainment industry that booked jobs for strippers, and I promised I'd show up for it.

I knew it was going to be a difficult promise to keep, but I'd do it.

Eventually the fashion show ended, when I had modeled every pair of panties that Lyndsay had bought for me. I was emotionally exhausted at that point, and I felt almost sick with sexual frustration. I told Julie that I was going to go to bed early, but Lyndsay had other plans.

"You can't go to bed yet," she insisted, "This is my first time over at your apartment. You're obligated to show me your room. I can learn a lot about a new girlfriend by examining the room they sleep in."

Julie was enchanted by Lyndsay and cordially announced that it was a pleasure to meet her. Lyndsay and I then ended up walking down the hall to my room, with me nearly naked, Lyndsay fully dressed and Lyndsay's arm around my waist.

Lyndsay wasn't joking she really didintend to examine my bedroom. She went through my bookcase and examined the titles of all my books. There were exercise books, fiction paperbacks by respectable authors and history textbooks, these Lyndsay dismissed without a second glance.

In the drawer of my nightstand she found three BDSM paperbacks. She held one of them up where I could see it. The cover displayed a naked blonde girl, shackled to a whipping post. She had a panicked expression on her face and several marks on her thighs and buttocks where she already obviously been struck by a whip.

"This girl looks remarkably like you," Lyndsay observed.

"She's blonde, she has nice legs and large, firm boobs," I countered. "Artists use that look all the time when they're trying to arouse prurient interest. It's an American ideal for female beauty."

"But you're the one who bought this book," Lyndsay said. "You identify with this girl, don't you? You've fantasized about being in her place, haven't you?"

I thought about denying it, but there really wasn't much point. Lyndsay had been there the previous weekend when I was stripped naked, tied up and spanked. She knew that I got excited by that sort of thing.

"Yes," I admitted, "I identify with the girl on the cover. I've often masturbated, fantasizing that I was the girl bound to that whipping post."

"Such honesty," Lyndsay gushed, "I love that. That'll make our relationship so much easier!" She smiled and then set the paperback books back where she had found them.

Next she went through my closet and my dresser drawers. She didn't like any of my old bras or panties and grabbed all of them up out of my underwear drawer and tossed them in the trash.

"Hey,"I protested, but then Lyndsay gave me a look of admonishment.

"I don't ever want to see you wearing old grandma underwear like this again," Lyndsay warned as she kicked the trashcan with my discarded underwear. "It would be far better for you to go around naked than to wear those unflattering things!"

I balled my hands up into fists and had a mind to argue with her, but then she pulled out the big guns and said, "If I catch you pulling any of these out of the trash, I'm going to tell Christina that you were rude and uncooperative. How do you think she'd react to that?"

Suddenly my hands relaxed and I dropped the combative tone. Lyndsay might be my girlfriend, but Christina was my mistress. Christina had far more authority over me than Lyndsay ever would. Christina had almost unlimited authority to punish me if I was bad.

"She wouldn't be happy," I responded meekly.

"No, I dare say she wouldn't," ventured Lyndsay. "I dare say she'd punish you so severely, you wouldn't be able to sit for a week! You probably be so marked up, you wouldn't be able to audition for that talent agency either!"

I had a vision of me, naked with welts and abrasions on my ass, auditioning for a career as a stripper in some talent executive's office. The prospect seemed even more humiliating than the lingerie show I put on for Julie.

"I promise to be good."

"That's my girl," Lyndsay said and then she put four fingers underneath my chin, lifted my head up and kissed me on the lips.

Then she placed her hands gently on my bare shoulders and said, "You're a good girl, Gwen. Now, take your panties off and I'll give you a reward for being so good."

Honestly, I didn't think I heard her correctly. "I don't think I quite understood that last part," I said.

Lyndsay gave me a seductive smile and replied, "Christina banned you from masturbating, but she never banned me from eating you to orgasm. Now, get those panties off and I'll show you just how good I am and bringing good little girls to screaming orgasms."

At this point, I probably should have been concerned that Julie was just down the hall, and the walls in my apartment were thin and did almost nothing to muffle sound, however I was absolutely throbbing with sexual need. I dropped my panties to the floor, and stepped out of them in less time than it takes to blink.