The Lesbian Debt (Chapter 16) – Topless Waitress by All These Roadworks
Explore Chapter 16 of 'The Lesbian Debt' by All These Roadworks, featuring a steamy encounter with a topless waitress. Dive into this gripping erotic sex story filled with passion, desire, and unforgettable moments. Perfect for fans of LGBTQ+ romance and sultry storytelling!<br/>
Laura, a lesbian, has been blackmailed into taking part at an experimental program at the Mayim Clinic which aims to recondition her to enjoy hetero sex….
Chapter 16
TOPLESS WAITRESS
After recovering from her orgasm, Laura showered. She graciously let Erica join her, and together the two girls washed the sweat, sex juices and piss from their naked bodies. It felt weird washing with the chain still hooked on Laura’s tits (and painful) but it seemed to be stainless steel and unlikely to rust.
Afterwards, Laura dressed for her new job. The chain was her bra, of course. And she was going to be topless, but she would need to cover her tits while Erica drove her to work, so she put on a casual shirt. She got Erica to slide a fresh pair of lacy pink panties up her legs, and then put on a sexy miniskirt over the top. She complimented the outfit with high heels.
She needed to tell Erica where she was going, of course, as Erica would be driving the car and picking her up. She chose to do it as Erica was kneeling in front of her, having just helped her put on her underwear.
“I’m going out to be a topless waitress tonight. It’s my new job,” she said, looking down at Erica. She was checking for any hint of challenge or defiance in Erica, but Erica, abused, confused and sad, showed none. The bitch was curious, of course, but she knew better than to ask.
As night fell, they together drove into the red light district. Laura quickly found the Pretty Titty Bar. It displayed a giant neon sign of a kneeling topless whore stroking her bare breasts. Laura kissed Erica on the lips and told her to come back and pick her up when she called. Erica signalled her assent, and Laura got out and watched as her lover drove away.
Inside, the club was dark and noisy. Men sat in darkened booths, drinking, or gathered around the fringes of a large central stage. The stage featured a stripping pole, but the buxom brunette under the spotlight wasn’t using it. She was completely naked, kneeling with her legs spread, and pumping a large blue dildo in and out of her twat as she moaned sluttily. Occasionally men would throw money at her. She ignored it, letting it fall to the stage, focused on her masturbation.
In amongst the darkened tables, women moved. All of them were buxom and topless, their breasts bobbing as they moved from man to man, taking orders and delivering drinks. Some wore short skirts like Lauras. Others wore only panties. At least one was completely nude, her shaved cunt displayed to the world. All of them wore high heels.
Laura felt her cunt wettening, and cursed it. She wasn’t even on her pills – she shouldn’t be acting slutty. But so much bare female flesh was causing a reaction in Laura anyway. She felt her cheeks growing hot and her breathing quickening. These women were beautiful, and sexy, and on display, and they reminded Laura very strongly of the images she had been looking at while being machine-fucked at the Mayim Clinic.
As she stood staring at the den of eroticism, she felt a hand take hold of her arm, and she turned to see a roughly handsome man with an unshaven face wearing a suit.
“Are you the bitch David sent?” the man asked.
Laura wanted to say she wasn’t a bitch, but starting an argument wasn’t a way to start a new job, and she needed this job. “Yes,” she said instead. “I’m Laura.”
“Laura’s no good,” he said. “It’s not a stripping name. You can be Kitten Tits.”
“What?” asked Laura.
“Don’t ‘what’ me,” the man replied, irritated. “You’re already late to work. Next time you start at 5 pm, okay? Your name here is Kitten Tits. That’s what you introduce yourself as, that’s what you answer to. You don’t use your real name because you don’t want the customers following you home, okay?”
“Okay,” said Laura. She remembered her rule about calling her breasts degrading names, and wondered if she was allowed to say “Kitten Tits” or would have to say “Kitten Fuckhandles”. She decided that Kitten Tits was probably okay in the context of her name.
The man looked her over. “I’m Edgar, by the way,” he said. “You take instruction from me. You don’t answer to the other girls, you don’t answer to the customers, got it?”
“Got it,” said Laura.
“You’re dressed okay, so you’re obviously not completely stupid. Take off the shirt and I’ll put it in the lockers for you, and then you’re good to go.”
“Here?” asked Laura. Many of the nearby men were looking at her.
“The whole point is for them to see your udders, Kitten Tits,” said Edgar.
Nervously, Laura unbuttoned her shirt and removed it. Her large, painfully chained breasts came into view. She heard some scattered applause from the nearby tables, and blushed.
Edgar reached out and pulled at the chain connecting Laura’s nipples. Laura squealed.
“What’s this?” he said.
“It’s a decoration,” Laura replied. “I think it suits me, and I like it.”
Edgar laughed. “I think it suits you, too. Alright, you can chain up your tits like a goth if you want. Come on, I’ll show you how to take orders and do bills.”
The man led Laura around the strip club. Laura tried to concentrate on the things she was being told, and not the exposed female flesh around her. On stage, the brunette brought herself to a noisy orgasm, gathered up the money around her, and retreated through a door to what was presumably the backstage. Another girl, a redhead, came out wearing a bra and panties, and began to dance on the pole, slowly peeling off her underwear to reveal her breasts and twat.
Laura was introduced to the bartenders – tonight, a blonde named Kelly and a brunette named Tania, both of them with large fake breasts – and she was told how to greet the customers.
“You’re to say, ‘Hello, my name is Kitten Tits,'” Edgar told her. “And then you tell them something pornographic about yourself, like, ‘I like being fucked in the ass.’ Then you ask them if they like your tits. If they say yes, you say thank you, and if they say no, you tell them you’ll try hard to have worthwhile tits in the future. And then you lean right down so your tits are in their face, and you ask them what you can get them from the bar. They might grab your tits or your ass. They’re not supposed to, but if they do, don’t make a scene, just let the bouncers know afterwards.”
“And they’ll kick them out?” asked Laura.
“No, they’ll make them pay for the privilege. They learn pretty fast that it’s more expensive to grope waitresses than to just buy a lapdance or fuck a whore, and all but the richest ones stop.”
It was incredibly demeaning, but Laura memorised what she was supposed to say carefully, and therafter she was set loose to start working.
At her very first table, she said, “Hi, my name is Kitten Tits. I like licking pussy. Do you like my fuckhandles?”
The men laughed, and said that they did. “Thank you,” said Laura. She leant over, letting her tits hang down, and almost sighed with relief – the position caused her breasts to not pull at the chain so painfully. She looked at the men. “What can I get for you from the bar?”