THE HYPNO-TALKER OF ZLAR
by Doctor MC, Mad Scientist
Chapter 10
Lordy, Lordy!
A week later, Kevin paid the cover charge at Dance The Army, and walked into the smoky darkness.
Shit, strip clubs are a lot more expensive now than they were in the Seventies, Kevin thought.
Kevin had never been in here before. No surprise, since the joint was two blocks from the main gate of Fort Carver, which put it on the other side of town from where Kevin lived.
Kevin got himself a beer (wincing when he was told the price), then he wandered around. He watched lap-dancers from a distance, and he overheard a few snatches of conversation (and lots of conversations about snatches).
Out of nowhere, the DJ’s voice boomed out, “Now, men, making her Dance The Army debut—give a warm welcome to Private Parts!”
The new dancer was in her thirties—ancient, so far as strippers went. To Kevin, her big tits looked real, but her short purple hair looked ridiculously fake.
Private Parts had come on stage in a Victoria’s Secret parody of an Army battle dress uniform, that was too skimpy to be Regulation, and which had an E-2 private’s single chevron sewn above each nipple. Private Parts also was wearing black open-toed stilettoes instead of black boots.
By the end of the first song, Private Parts had stripped down to camouflage-pattern panties and high heels. Her legs, arms, and abs all were muscular, even though this was supposedly her first day stripping.
By then, Kevin was leaning against the wall, behind two seated men with Army haircuts. The big-boned seated man blurted out, “Lordy, lordy, that’s Lourdes Taylor! What the fuck is she doing as a stripper?”
The tall seated man replied, “I’d heard that she’d suddenly resigned her commission—but shit, I never figured she’d wind up here!”
Kevin glanced over. Both men were wearing West Point rings. Word would travel fast.
Minutes later, the woman herself was standing in front of them. She said, “John, Norman, good to see you here. If you get your wallets out, we’ll have fun.”
The big-boned officer said, “Christ, Lourdes—”
“Please, if you see me here, call me Private Parts.”
The tall officer said, “I can’t believe this. You graduated West Point, you were an Active Army captain, and now you’re offering us lap-dances?”
She smiled at the men. “Lap-dances and blowjobs both. One man for twenty bucks”—now she leered at both men—“or I suck off both you and your buddy for thirty-five.”
Ten seconds passed while the two men stared at her, and Private Parts stood there with a smile and raised eyebrow.
The tall officer said, “Why are you doing this? Did your Battalion Commander ‘suggest’ you resign your commission for some reason?”
Her smile disappeared. “You’re close. I did do something very bad. Nobody in the Army caught me, but I realized on my own that I was a disgrace to the officer corps. Once I realized this, resigning my commission, and becoming a stripper and cheap whore, all were entirely my own idea.”
Lourdes Taylor, a.k.a. Private Parts, hadn’t noticed Kevin, who still was leaning against the wall. He was smiling.