Jackson Falls
Chapter 6
“Owwuch,” Anna grimaced. She and Mandy were visiting Jess at Deja Vu, who was just starting her shift as one of the club’s most popular new strippers.
“Jess is like, really fucking hot,” Anna said, still rubbing her right nipple. Yesterday, before they went out clubbing, Anna had impulsively had her nipples pierced, after seeing one of her new favorite porn stars sporting the look. “I want to be like, blinged out,” Anna had told Mandy. “Also pierced nipples are fucking hot,” she continued, completing her logical explanation. She was shocked that the thought had only then occurred to her.
“And celebrate a year.” It had been exactly a year since Anna stumbled into Mandy’s shop, and therefore a year since Anna had left her old life for Jackson Falls. Within minutes, two steel barbells adorned her pink nipples. “It feels like they’re being you know, like, pinched,” Anna exclaimed, drawn in by her new reflection.
“You’ll love them,” Mandy explained. “You’ll be showing them off soon enough. I can’t wait to run my tongue over them.” Mandy was sporting a few new piercings too: a tongue ring done as a surprise for Anna, and a Monroe piercing on her left side. Anna couldn’t get enough of the tongue piercing running up and down her pussy and tits. She shivered in erotic anticipation at the mere thought.
True to Mandy’s predictions, Anna, bra-less, threw on a semi-see through black, form fitting crop top, her perky nipples and steel studs straining against the taught fabric. A thong, skin-tight, acid-washed, ripped jeans, and 5 inch stiletto heels completed the look. “Ready to go!” Anna beamed, as she popped a pill of ecstasy, followed by a shot of vodka.
She had been fucked by two guys that night; a much sought after threesome, for Anna, with the quarterback of the local community college football team, and the star of the basketball team. Both were regular fuck buddies of Anna’s, but never before at the same time.
“New jewelry?” the football player asked Anna, on seeing her in the club, his eyes bolted to her chest. “You like?” Anna said, her lips partially open, looking up in her best puppy-dog eyes.
“Let me get a feel,” he said, aggressively cupping her tits.
“I did them just for you,” she whispered. Slack jawed, his eyes widened. “He might as well have cum in the floor,” she thought. Moments later, she whisked him away to the men’s bathroom for a blowjob. They shared a line of coke before returning to the floor, and then finding the basketball player—after Anna’s plaintive urging—before fucking the rest of the night in Anna’s bed, each guy switching between her willing ass, pussy, and mouth. She tucked her soaked string thong into the basketball player’s jean pocket when she awoke in the morning, laughing. “I bet that’ll fuck with his girlfriend,” she thought, knowing, from his Instagram, he had been dating some plain-Jane looking girl for the past several years. “Don’t think he fucks her in the mouth... and ass,” she thought, as she looked in the mirror toward her bare, bleached ass. “Or has her nipples pierced,” she smiled, devilishly.
The nipple piercings were but two of several new, erotic additions to Anna’s body. In the ensuing months since her first tattoos, she had also added a heart next to her right boob, a quote (“Count your blessings”) under her left boob, and an array of flowers crawling up from her upper left thigh, framing one of her stars. A trio of hearts adorned her inner right wrist, and she recently had Mandy tattoo a black playboy bunny on the back of her neck with the word “Vixen” underneath. A lower belly button piercing completed her taught tummy, accenting her top belly button barbell.
Her body, now tighter and fitter than ever thanks to a strenuous workout regime she and Mandy had undertaken, was a walking testament to her new self, and her new transformation. Anna’s life before Jackson Falls had come to seem like a distant memory—a haze of disjointed memories, thoughts, and emotions—mostly bad ones. The complexities and vagueries of life had simplified into a constant pursuit of whatever made her happy which, increasingly, and nearly exclusively, involved fucking and being seen as an object of desire. Every ounce of attention—man or woman—towards her fueled and deepened her constant quest for sexual perfection. Free of all worry, embarrassment, and inhibition, she felt a freedom she had never known was possible. A new, near constant flow of alcohol, weed, nicotine, and ecstasy further heightened her almost constant state of sexual vibrancy, and the stunning calmness and single-mindedness of her mind.
Jess sat down at their table after an acrobatic turn on the pole. “How was it,” Jess said, breathless. She too had been the recipient of Mandy’s handiwork: freshly pierced nipples, a clit piercing, and climbing flower tattoo that decorated much of her right side. Anna knew first hand about the clit piercing: a few days back, Anna had asked Jess how a tongue piercing felt on a cock, and responded by asking Anna how a clit piercing would feel in Anna’s mouth. They ate each other out all night, Jess’s bleached asshole dancing in Anna’s face as each ripped off matching neon green thongs, Jess’ massive fake tits swaying with each gyration of Anna’s tongue.
“You were so fucking hot,” Mandy responded.
“Yea like, so so fucking hot,” Anna repeated, drawn into Jess’ tits. It took all her might not to grab them and resist running her tongue around her nipples. “Fake tits are fucking hot,” Anna continued, mindlessly voicing every thought that flitted through her mind, as she had started to do regularly.
Anna had come to the strip club with at least one ulterior motive: asking Jess about a job. While Mandy’s business was booming, Anna was still reeling from a recent turn of events. The owner of M’s, Max, an aging, portly, generally stodgy restaurateur had slowly come to be a bigger presence at M’s over the past year, mostly, as Anna suspected, to get closer to M’s bevy of scantily clad 20-somethings, as his own marriage was failing. One night a month or so back, Anna, now M’s top grossing waitress, noticed Max staring her down, with the sort of puppy-dog look she had come to identify as a particular kind of lust.
“Hiya,” Anna said, sitting immediately on Max’s lap. “You look tired.”
“I think you’re violating our dress code policy,” Max said, wryly, staring down into Anna’s shirt. Anna was wearing a petite plaid skirt she had bought off an adult lingerie website and a purple g-string with straps protruding from its top, her star and flower tattoos poking out its front, all complimenting her bronzed, impossibly slender waist. Max had already cupped her mostly bare ass in his hands.
“Oh, really?” Anna said, coyly, “is it...” she thrust his hand to her right tit, “my bra, or,” she slid his hand down her double-pierced navel, making sure he dragged his hang across her dangling jewels, towards her crotch, “my little panties?”
The allure of being with the owner of her restaurant drew her—a forbidden fruit. And, plus, he was fucking rich, she thought. Maybe he could pay for a boob job.
“I think it’s actually, here,” he said, poking his finger into her taught, round ass.
“Ooh, I see it now, Daddy,” she said, unbuttoning his shirt, “I’m so, so sorry,” she said, in her best feigned apology.
Soon they were in the back office, Anna expertly sucking Max’s dick as he groaned in excitement.
“Turn around,” he intoned. Anna obeyed, as Max ripped her thong off and stuck his dick into her bleached, well-used ass. She had only recently begun exploring anal sex, but, on the suggestion of Mandy, had been wearing a butt plug some days to work, usually slipping away to finger herself to orgasm in a stall when times were slow. She couldn’t get enough of the feeling, and audibly yelped in joy when Max roared a thrust into her bottom.
After a few minutes of fucking, Anna turned to whisper into Max’s ear, “I want you to cum on my tummy.” She lay back, as Max’s ejaculated the most cum she had ever seen onto her tattooed hips, her taught stomach, shaved pussy, and tits.
“Mmm, I think we’re going to have to save these,” she said, taking off her now-cum stained skirt and shirt.
Max and Anna’s fuck escapades continued for the next several weeks, usually with Anna sitting on Max’s lap as they watched porn together, scrolled through Anna’s Instagram, or Anna convinced Max to buy various shoes, clothes, and other accessories. But it wasn’t to last. About a week ago, Anna saw Max’s wife—an old, sagging hag—burst into his back office, screaming at the top of her lunges. Her mind briefly flitted to a memory—something with Todd—but subverted back to the hunky customer she was serving who couldn’t take her eyes off her ass, now clad in low-slung, tight-as-could be jeans, as she pointed out her new playboy bunny tattoo.
“Whores! Sluts!” Max’s wife yelled in Anna’s general direction as she stormed off, apparently directed towards the entire waitstaff. Anna chuckled: how many girls had he been fucking?
“Anna!” Max roared. Dutifully, she walked towards Max, ready to caress his face, “Yes, Da...”
“You’re fired!” he screamed, “don’t you ever fucking come back.” He slammed the door in Anna’s face, as the restaurant’s patrons, her co-workers, and others looked on in silent shock. Anna blushed, cracked a spry smile, and walked out the door.
“It’s better for you anyways,” Mandy cooed to Anna the next day. Most of their friends had long since left M’s, moving to other more exotic venues. Anna and Mandy had resolved to come to visit Deja Vu the next week.
“So, yea, like, anyways Jess,” Anna said. “Do you think I could like work here?”
“Oh my god, yes!” Jess screamed. “Call me Lexi, though, that’s what everyone knows me as now. But, yea, you’re like the hottest girl in this whole city, you could work here in a heartbeat. Talk to Dave, he’ll set you up. We have to get you a new name, a stripper name,” Jess said.
“Oh I like meant as a like waitress or something,” Anna said, “I don’t know about like lap dances and stuff.”
“Girl stand up. Let me see those tits,” Lexi said.
“Now?”
“Yea,” Lexi continued.
Anna stood up and slipped out of her tube top, revealing her puffy, pierced nipples.
“You strip on command, you got pierced nipples, and you’re wondering if you can be a stripper?” Jess plaintively asked. “Dave, get your fucking black ass over here, I found you your new girl,” Lexi said.
Dave looked down over his glasses towards Anna’s bronzed, 5′9″ frame. “Yep, you’re hired,” he winked.