Outstripped (5 page)

Bill
interrupted, saying, “I don’t have any night clubs, I run a trucking company.

“I know
that,” Jody jumped back in. “I just wanted your opinions on where to go, either
for a job or to talk to someone who has contacts. Can you help us or do you
know someone who can?”

“Now,
you know I don’t go to those sorts of places.”

“Yeah
right!”

“OK, OK.
Well, as a connoisseur of such delightful establishments I can definitely tell
you where not to go. I have a club card for ‘Stringfellows’, but the best place
I believe is the new one just off Shaftesbury Avenue.

“What’s
it called?”

“Leave
it with me for now. My mate Barry knows one or two people down there. I’ll do
some asking around and see if we can’t get you looked after. And,” he paused,
“can I have the first dance?”

Jody knew
he’d said it as a joke but she also knew it came with a lot of hope and
sincerity.

“I’d
love that little bottom of yours rubbing around in my lap,” he added.

“I know
you would. But would your wife approve?”

“She
doesn’t care about strip clubs, and anyway she doesn’t need to know. About you
I mean.”

Bill’s
pleading smile was obvious, even over the phone.

“We’ll
see. It depends how good you are to me.”

“…. And
Rachael,” she quickly added.

“I’ll be
good then,” he said. “Leave it with me, and I’ll call you later.

“Thanks
Bill. You’re the best.”

Jody was
getting all excited again, and called Rachael to tell her about progress so
far. She didn’t bother with any other contacts since Bill looked likely to come
up trumps.

It was
close to four o’clock when Rachael turned up at Jody’s place. Jody let her in
at street level and, ushering her up the stairs quickly she said, “Come on,
hurry up, I need a pee.”

Once in
the bed-sit Jody pushed past Rachael and ran for the bathroom. “What do you
think of the place?” she asked, to the accompaniment of gushing urine. “Not bad
eh’ for six grand a week” She added with just a hint of sarcasm.

“They
saw you coming” Rachael replied “What do these letters mean?” and she spelled
them out

“W.A.I.F.A.”

Without
missing a beat Jody (now washing her hands) replied “Oh it’s a small animal
charity I support, from back home. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. It’s
called “Welfare And Impunity For Animals”. I just do a little bit on the side
for them with my mother. Quite boring really.”

“You
must’ve been doing it for a long time. This little book’s pretty grubby.
What’ve you got in here?” she said opening it up, but Jody had sneaked up on
her and quickly reached around and snatched her obviously ‘private’ little
record book from Rachael’s nosey little mitts.

Rachael
turned her attentions to the next object of interest on Jody’s bedside table.
Picking up a shiny torpedo shaped object, and twisting the knobbly base, it
sprang to life, “Bzzzzzzzzz”

“You
need a man, missy” Rachael said, staring at Jody and simultaneously poking the
vibrator through her fingers.

Jody
snatched for ‘this’ also but Rachael whisked it away behind her back. “Is it a
good one?” she enquired.

“It’s
only for show. A paperweight, you know” Jody began to giggle,” and I do have a
man, men, I mean, I have had men, a man, oh shut up!”

Eventually
settling down to a ‘nice cup of tea’, on the sofa, with her knees under her
chin, Jody finally got round to their joint adventure. “Anyway,” she says,
“Bill came back to me this afternoon.”

“And?”

“We’ve
got a ‘try out’ tomorrow. Apparently they do auditions on Sunday’s coz they
don’t open. He said we should take the week, to make sure we knew what we were
doing, but I thought it would be best to ‘strike whilst the iron’s hot’ then we
don’t have time to chicken out. So, Bill’s coming to pick us up here, at three
tomorrow and taking us down there with his mate Barry, who knows the owner.”

“We’ve
got some work to do then,” Rachael leaps into action, “have you shaved?”

“No I’ve
got a three-day stubble down there” Jody laughed.

“Well
you better had, an’ I need one too. Don’t really
wanna
go flashing pubes out of mi thong. Should I do a landing strip or get rid of
the lot?

“Strip
first, then, check if it’s OK. You can’t do it the other way round, dopey.”

“Yeah,
yeah, anyway, we should get down to the video shop as well and get some strip
show stuff out. I’ve seen ‘Dirty Dancing’ but I don’t think that counts. Not
Dirty enough!” She burst out laughing.

“I beat
you to it,” says Jody, “I’ve already got some.” And with that she pulls out
three DVDs from behind her cushion and acts like a “naughty, guilty, girly” and
loving it.

Unbeknown
to Rachael they were actually part of Jody’s growing collection of
‘educational’ videos and DVDs. Research primarily, of course, and necessary
assignment work for her ‘Big Plan’, but she got to
quite like
her homework and the hands on self tutoring that went
with it, in private.

This
would have been a perfect opportunity to attempt a little ‘girl on girl’
experimentation, but Jody decided she couldn’t afford to mess things up, just
as the ‘practical side’ of her plans was starting to take shape. It would have
to wait for another day.

A very
enjoyable evening of smut, however, was had by all, which included: some
personal grooming; a lot of striptease watching (and rewinding, and watching,
and watching again); plenty of white wine; some rude and silly dancing, and
some boobs in faces, but the closest they got to flesh was “cammies’ and
knickers.” Your typical bloke’s perfect slumber party really, but without the
lesbian action.

Bill was
on time and the girls were ready. Well almost. They’d wound themselves up in to
a tightly sprung bag of nerves all mixed up with excitement, trepidation,
giggles and uncertainty. Not the best of cocktails for an audition but a
healthy one under the circumstances.

On the
way, Barry gave them instructions on conduct and what would be expected of
them. There would be other girls auditioning also and competition would be
stiff.

“Just
like the audience,” according to Bill.

There
were some spare outfits they could use or they could perform in what they were
wearing. They’d been second-guessing all their options anyway and had come
prepared. Coincidentally, Jody had enough suitable outfits for them both.

Barry
‘nudged and winked’ with the doorman at “Vamps” when they got there, before the
‘beast with no neck’ opened the big glass and brass door for them all to enter.

“Don’t
nightclubs look weird when the lights are on?” said Jody. She had expected loud
pumping music and people, and stage lights and everything else, but this was
quiet, still, strange and empty, except for a few people in front of the main
stage who looked relaxed but bored.

Barry
and Bill led the way over and the girls followed. He introduced them and they
were taken by one of the women to a changing room.

There
were three other girls in there. One particularly young and nervous looking
blonde with tattoos, leaning on the locker doors, and two more, slightly older
women sitting at the dressing tables, chatting. They looked around and gave
Rachael and Jody the once over before continuing with their conversation. None
of them looked exactly ravishing, athletic, or ‘centre-fold-like’ and Jody
began to feel like the two of them could be ‘ahead of the game’.

The
woman who had shown them in told them to get ready or changed or whatever, and
they would all be called out shortly.

“Do we
go out one at a time?” asked Rachael, digging for some group support. The lady
replied, advising them she wasn’t sure and the boss would tell them what he
wanted. “Just sit tight till we call you,” she said and then left.

Somewhat
uncomfortably, they removed their coats and began to sort out their make-up.
The older women began to snigger between themselves.

“First time,
is it love?” she said to Jody in a very snide manner.

“Yes,
how can you tell?” Jody asked in all seriousness.

“Your
outfits. What were you thinking?”

Taking
offence, and choosing to ignore ‘the bitches’ as best she could, Jody turned
around to concentrate on her own finishing touches. Before too long they were
given the shout to come out on the stage together. “Looks like we’re having a
parade,” whispered Rachael, holding Jody back so the two of them could walk out
last.

The
place was now dark other than for some bright stage lights. The five of them
walked in a line and stopped at the front of the stage, to face their
assessors.

The man
in the middle broke the silence, “You could have made an effort, Dawn. And
you.” he pointed to the second of the two M.I.L.F.S. “I forget your name.”

“This
isn’t the fucking “Lipstick Lounge” you know,” he added, “This place is a
little more up market. Primo, got it?”

They
shuffled with the slightest of embarrassment and Jody inwardly punched the air
in triumph. She surmised that the ‘old girls’ were ‘circuit girls’,
which
is why the boss seemed to know them, and then her
thoughts were interrupted as he turned his derogatory attentions to her. “Barry
did a fucking good sales job on me, to get you two kids here. You look like
something out of an “Ann Summers” catalogue. I hope I’m not
gonna
be disappointed.

He then
pointed at the tattooed blonde. “Are you sure you’re cut out for this love?”

“Yes,”
she replied, sheepishly, contradicting her outward appearance. “I need the money.”

“OK,
let’s get on with it. Turn around. Slowly,” he shouted, gesticulating in
accompaniment to his orders. “Stop. Bend over. Hold it. Up. Turn. Hands on
hips. Push your tits together.”

He
discussed a few finer points with the others beside him and the lady on his
left made some notes.

“Right
you can all fuck off and I want Blondie back first. As soon as you hear the
music, I want you on stage. You can dance, use the pole,
get
your ‘kit’ off, whatever you want. Just carry on till I tell you to stop. We’ve
got room for three, so you might just wanna make it good.”

Back in
the dressing room, Jody and Rachael were busy discussing the rather blunt and
unceremonious nature of it all. They had no idea what happened, but the blonde
girl came rushing in wearing just a g-string and high heels, clutching the rest
of her gear, mumbling obscenities, somewhere between sobbing and anger.

“Next!”
Came the bellowed instructions from the main clubroom.

The
“Circuit Girls”, in turn, both came back ‘chuffed’ to bits with their
performances.
Stark naked and displaying an array of tiny
tattoos and piercings in some interesting places.
They were very
comfortable in their own skins.

“Best of
luck.” Jody said, as Rachael disappeared, to the sound of some
‘techno-disco-thumping’. Four excruciating minutes later she came back,
clutching her clothes with a look of bewilderment on her face. Jody looked at
her questioningly and, “Don’t know,” was all Rachael said, before adding, “I
haven’t got a clue. I thought it was good, but they just sat there, so, I just
don’t know.”

The
random ‘techno-disco-thumping’ began again and Jody stood up, sharply. She
looked in the mirror, patted her hair and blew a kiss to Rachael.

Jody
sauntered on to the stage.

Back in
the dressing room she’d put her coat back on and now, as she, seductively,
placed one red stiletto, in turn, in front of the other she began her audition by
undoing the lightly knotted belt. She then opened the coat, dropped it off her
shoulders behind and caught the collar with one hand. She trailed it behind her
as she continued her slow, calculating swagger to centre-stage.

She
paused in front of her allegedly discerning audience, feet apart, one hand on
hip, the other holding her coat over her shoulder.

The boss
crossed his arms. He then crossed his straightened legs in front of him, pursed
his lips and raised his eyebrows. Jody’s white PVC nurse’s uniform was as
bright as a lighthouse in those stage lights. They thought they’d seen her
earlier, but they hadn’t seen her at all. They could see her now. She now had
command of
her
stage.

Jody had
made long, long plans for this moment and there was simply
no way
she was going to waste her big opportunity. It was shit or
bust. All her homework and her practice, her eagerness and her scheming, all
came down to whether she could deliver the goods,
for real
, on the day.

Taking
an unbelievable gamble, she threw the coat in his face, and began to move to
the music. Refraining from dancing, as such, she instead chose to writhe to the
rhythm. Her feet never moved.

She
pouted and smouldered and belied her years and inexperience with an air of
confidence these guys had been waiting for all their professional days.