The Golden Nipples Club

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Mary, Feb 11, 2013.

  1. This was not just a club, this was THE club. The Golden Nipples Club was the name of the joint and it lived up to its name. Not only was the place decorated in gold, silver and black but they were served by beautiful women in skimpy golden outfits carrying golden trays-mostly blondes-. It was an exclusive club reserved for only the people who could pay over two thousand dollars worth in drinks, entertainment and of course a complimentary ‘companion’ for the night. ‘Exotic dancers’ like they liked to be called but seriously, we all know they are simply strippers. Women who’s education level or simply the lack of work, forced them to sell themselves like if they were products that belonged in a shelf with a code bar printed to their asses. Displaying their toned bodies and like in the commercials, creating great promotions that didn’t involve their self esteem and much less any sort of boundaries. These women were tested constantly for any sort of diseases that could endanger The Golden Nipples Club’s reputation, including pregnancies that were not going to be ‘getting rid off’. I know, sounds terrible right? But the girls there didn’t think it was as terrible as it seemed, well at least Annette J. Blundel didn’t.
    Annie’s life was all about ‘easy’ money. Working as a stripper wasn’t as easy as it would seem, but it sure as heck wasn’t as hard as being a dammed rocket scientist. She had to make sure that her body was perfectly conditioned for all the climbing, dancing, grabbing and clapping that certain parts of her body had to accomplish; at twenty seven years of age burgers were starting to store in her thighs and ever so subtle lines were starting to form on the corners of her eyes. They weren’t visible under all the makeup and corrector but they were there, announcing her worst fear. That someday she would have to renounce to all of this foolishness and actually get a ‘real’ job like her mother bitched constantly. ‘No one wanted to pay four hundred bucks to go see their mom stripping’ Annie’s mother exaggerated, or did she? Annette was scared shitless of surgeries and hospitals so plastic surgeries were a ‘HELL NAW!’. Makeup could sadly do so much and if she looked at her mother for references, there wasn’t any relaxing future expectations since her mother’s hair started to turn gray from the moment she turned thirty four and her hips got enormously wide as soon as she had her first child. So Annie just watched what she ate and kept her body active. It would be healthy if only she’d stick with the normal diets and maybe the occasional energy drink. But NOOO, again she had a better and easier rout; Blow.

    Not blowing her nose or blowing balloons or the name of some dietetic supplement, it was the street name for cocaine. A drug so addictive and powerful that it could and eventually would burn the abuser’s nasal passages and damage the lungs. Annie’s excuse was that she didn’t do it ‘every day’. She started doing it once every few weeks, then once a week, then once every few days and was now at the ‘just on occasional weekends’. But everyone knew that she took hits of the deadly white powder every day before going to work just to help her bare with the grabby hands of old millionaires that made her nauseous. They all did the same. Drugs excited her body to the point of encouraging her to do daring stunts and be a ‘crowd pleaser’. Not because she was the prettiest or most voluptuous woman working there, she was definitely not the best dancer or youngest one from the bunch but she was crazy, outgoing and always eager to please her clients. In other words, easy.

    Today Ann closed her eyes and leaned against the seat of her pink convertible. Trying to make the dizziness cease because this time she had inhaled a little bit more than usual since her passage ways were already numbed by the drug. Just then she felt footsteps outside her door so her brain just popped opened her eyes and forced her to glare at the person who was approaching her. Only that the girl was not approaching her, she was walking away from the pink convertible actually and towards the club wearing one of the skimpy gold outfits. “Nice ass...” She mumbled to herself as she shamelessly glared at the walking female as if she were going to eat her. By the girl’s ass she could tell that she was most definitely new. They were only six servers because the club was so small and exclusive. Six servers, two bartenders and six strip—no wait- three exotic dancers, that rotated during the week and weekends bringing in different types of clientele. Anyways, it was time to get out so Annie opened her door and hurried out, carrying her pink Prada bag as if it were her first child and making sure not to slip in any black ice. But her legs were moving SOO slow according to her brain who was ushering her to move faster, take longer steps, jog, hop, run, go inside, RUN! GO, GO GO! Until Annette made it inside as giggly as a fifteen year old. Laughing at herself as the people who saw her laughed, but different reasons.
  2. The young girl just barely old enough to drink had hit rock bottom. She’d moved to the big city against her parents wishes to ‘make it big’. Doing what exactly she had no clue but had hoped to find a decent paying job in an office somewhere shoveling papers around for rich executives. Problem was, she didn’t know how to type and had no business sense either, so no one was interested in hiring her. She called her best friend up on the phone saying she was going to give up and come home. Her friend, Krystal, told her she’d better not because then she’d prove her folks right and she’d never hear the end of it. Krystal told Lucy to go find an easy job like waitressing or even fast food if she had too until something better came along. At least she would be able to pay her rent and maybe eat a few nights out of the week and not give in to her parents constant ‘I told you so’.</SPAN>

    On her friend’s advice, Lucy answered and ad in the paper for a waitress job at some high end night club. She went in for her interview during off hours and the place seemed really nice and fancy and she hoped she would get the job because it would probably mean pretty good tips, if the gold and black colored décor meant anything. The owner asked her some basic questions like how tall she was, could she walk in high heels and what size uniform did she wear. The guy interviewing her was really creepy and kept staring at her legs, or at least she thought he was looking at her legs, but she really needed the job and just kept smiling. After only about fifteen minutes, the creepy man left the room and came back within a couple of minutes with a gold colored outfit and gold heels. He handed the stack of clothing to her and smirked. “Be here tonight at five o’clock sharp dressed and ready to work. Oh, and employees use the entrance around back.” She nodded and thanked the man for the opportunity, tucking the outfit and shoes in her bag.</SPAN>

    Back at her small run down studio apartment, Lucy took the outfit out of her bag to get a better look at it. “Oh…my….God! This isn’t going to fit me!” she exclaimed out loud though no one was there to hear her. Sighing she set it out on the bed so that it wouldn’t wrinkle, took a quick shower and then started to get ready not wanting to be late on her first day. She brushed out and dried her long blonde hair and clipped it back on one side with a barrette to keep it out of her face for the evening. The man had instructed her that she wasn’t allowed to tie it up, the clients liked loosely flowing hair on the girls. She slipped on the golden outfit which came complete with its own set of golden panties. The reasoning for this became very clear once Lucy had finished putting on the dress that barely covered her ass and only if she didn’t bend over. “What have I gotten myself into?” To her surprise, the outfit fit her perfectly although she felt like she was falling out the front and the back all at the same time; pulling the elastic down around her cheeks in the back and adjusting the sewn in bra so that it looked right, Lucy stood there looking at herself in the mirror. Like a little school girl she started doing little sexy poses acting like Betty Boop, puckering up her lips and sending a coy, shy look over her shoulder. After all, every girl wanted to feel sexy even if they weren’t comfortable in their own skin when they were out in public view.</SPAN>

    On the way to work, she got plenty of stares and whistles causing her to pull her coat even tighter. The problem was she didn’t own a long coat even if she did look odd in a short skirt and tennis shoes. She just knew there was no way she was going to walk around in the cold in high heels and possibly fall flat on her ass if she happened to find a patch of black ice along the way. Finally, turning the corner to the back entrance, Lucy changed her shoes remembering that she was to be ‘dressed and ready’ to work upon entering. Placing her tennis shoes in her bag and putting on the golden heels, she walked past a convertible that was parked on the street and entered the building.</SPAN>