Saffron Schoolgirl? Stripper? Hooker? Pt 1

Shy country girl Saffron was just 18 when her cousin Charles took her to London for the evening. She thought they would see a West End Show, but Charles took her to a seedy strip club instead.


Saffron Schoolgirl? Stripper? Hooker? Pt 1

Saffron slipped ever lower into her chair as the stripper twirled around the silver pole on a dias just feet from where she sat with her cousin Charles and his friend Sebastian.

Already completely naked the slim blonde girl just gyrated aimlessly around the pole as she waited for the song to finish.

Saffron had watched with a sort of detached interest as the girl had inelegantly discarded her costume mis timing her moves so the men had lost interest before her spot ended and were back talking to their friends by the time she stepped down to mingle with customers.

Saffron couldn’t understand why the girl hadn’t timed things to bring interest to a peak as she finished her routine, surely it was common sense? Saffron reasoned. Surely it was a basic principle of performance art, while the routine itself was merely simple gymnastics, it really did seem a poor effort.

It wasn’t Saffron’s idea to go to a strip club, she hated going out with Sebastian but her mother insisted she be chaperoned by ‘Someone Responsible,’ to ‘The Opera,’ but in her mother’s eyes Sebastian was responsible and going out with him was one of the few ways Saffron could escape her mother’s over protective clutches.

“Tina Ladies and Gentlemen,” Harry Styles the compere for the evening announced as the song ended and Tina walked off the stage, mingling with the seedy middle aged men at the bar.

The next girl, Lana, a little petite Indian wearing a sari, walked on next and nodded to Harry, the music started, sexy seductive and entirely the wrong track, Lana stood hands on hips glaring at Harry who took an age to realise.

“Track seven,” Lana said, “Bollywood nights!” and Harry struggled to change the track on the CD player, finally the Indian beat started and Saffron watched and wondered exactly how she would make removing a sari look sexy, she didn’t learn much as the girl had very little idea on how to make removing a sari sexy either, funny yes, the long silk trousers she wore beneath did a great job of tangling around her feet as she tried to swing round the pole and at least got a half decent laugh as the drunk guys cheered.

“Wouldn’t mind giving her one!” Charles laughed.

“What, hardly your type old chap,” Sebastian chuckled, “I thought you liked double D’s I’ve seen quail’s eggs bigger than her tits!”

“Hah bloody hah,” Charles asked, “Enjoying ‘The Opera’ Saff?”

“No, actually,” Saffron replied, “For gods sake why bring me here?”

“Got to keep you safe old love, some chap might take one look at your wooly cardigan and pounce,” he laughed.

“Hugely funny,” Saffron agreed a she sat feeling extremely foolish in her long black bare shouldered gown over which she had pulled her black cardigan. She didn’t actually mind not going to the Opera at Covent Garden despite blowing £100 on a pair of tickets but they had promised her a night club not a strip club.

She stood up abruptly, “Where are you going?” Sebastian asked.

“Ladies,” she said.

“Have a crafty wank eh!” Charles laughed, “I always knew you were a dyke.”

“Moron,” Saffron retorted and she swept across the floor skirting the dias as she headed for the rest room.

“Big hand for,” Harry said as he saw Saffron approach and before he realised she wasn’t actually a stripper, “Oh, sorry, wrong girl!”

Saffron just needed some air, she checked her makeup, washed her hands, and was startled to see Harry walk into the Ladies.

“You’re not the new girl then?” he said, “Only we’re supposed to have a new girl.”

“Get out!” she snapped.

“It’s all right no offence,” he said, “I can see you aren’t the type.”

“What type?” Saffron demanded.

“Fit athletic,” he said, “You’re not a dancer you’re more the elegant wallflower type.”

“I could dance a dammed sight better than those two!” Saffron insisted, “What on earth was that last girl thinking about!”

“That’s the trouble love, can’t get the staff,” he admitted.

“I mean it’s only a bit of performance art with some gymnastics, and of course choreographed to suit the music.” Saffron rationalised.

“To you maybe, but like I said we can’t get the staff.” Harry admitted, “You know when we started we had some top gymnasts performing on that pole,” he lied wistfully, “Now they just trip over their trousers.”

“Poor girl, I suppose it’s what she wears.” Saffron agreed.

“What Lana, Ha, no she’s a muslim, she wears one of those tent things, no we got a whole room of costumes,” Harry chuckled, “All velcro and sloppy elastic!”

“Ha!” Saffron laughed.

“No honest,” Harry insisted, “Its not Miss Selfridge, more like Oxfam, but we got quite a range.”

“Really” Saffron replied disinterestedly.

“If you reckon you could do better?” he said, “Why not give it a go?”

“Dressed like this?” Saffron asked sarcastically.

“Then like I said we have a wardrobe department!” he laughed, “I’ll get one of the girls to give you a hand if you like!”.

“No thanks,” Saffron laughed.

“OK,” he said, “So why are you here if you not interested, because obviously you are?”

The door opened and Tina came in, Harry turned to her and said, “Madam here reckons she a hot shot dancer and could knock spots off you lot!” he suggested.

“Like to see her try,” Tina sneered, “God where did you come from Covent Garden?”

“It’s a long story,” Saffron sighed.

“So honestly you reckon you can dance better that me?” Tina asked.

“Uh, yes,” Saffron agreed.

“So prove it,” Tina challenged, “Show us how it should be done. Put up or shut up!”

“Ok, I will!” Saffron agreed, “So, like, where are the costumes?”

“Through here,” Tina explained and she winked at Harry as she opened a door Saffron thought was a broom cupboard but in fact led to a small room crammed with costumes, some outlandish, some minimalist, dresses and skirts hung on free standing racks marked ‘Marks and Spencer’ , hung on hooks on the walls and stored in boxes on waist high units around the sides of the room, “Clothes, shoes, undies,” Tina pointed in succession, “What do you want?”

“School girl?” Saffron suggested.

“Ankle socks, white shirt, velcro bra, black velcro skirt, velcro thong, what size shoe?” Tina asked, “Velcro shirt or tied?”

“Sorry, velcro shirt?” Saffron asked.

“Either you wear one open but tied at the front, or you can have a velcro strip down the front so it pulls off, actually there is one with a strip down the back somewhere, and some with the tie sewn in.” Tina explained, “Stockings go down well.”

“Right, oh size seven shoes,” Saffron added.

“Right, new thong,” Tina said handing a tiny piece of lace to Saffron, “Rip it off, its velcro but we cant use it again, and velcro shirt, ankle socks times two, bra?”

“Uh, C or D depends,” Saffron confirmed.

“Squeeze them in a C!” Tina chuckled, as she found a tired looking white bra, “Shoes, and a tie, velcro round the back but it ties as well.

“Is this clean?” Saffron asked.

“No, not all of it, the socks are, thong’s new, but the rest helps you get in character doesn’t it, who wants a stripper who stinks of Fabreeze?” Tina said, “And the dressing room is over there!” Tina said pointing to a curtain closing off part of the end of the room, “Pick an empty locker!”

Saffron pulled the curtain aside and found a dressing table and half a dozen full height lockers, she swished the curtain behind her found and empty locker and began to get changed, hanging her expensive gown up before sorting out her new ‘kit’ as she thought of it.

It all seemed very exciting, like the build up to a hockey match, or the gymnastic performances which she loved but never quite made the grade at in a school which had provided Olympic finalists, anywhere else she ruefully considered she would have been exceptional and tonight she would show them.

Saffron squeezed her D cup boobies into the C cup bra, slipped off her own M+S panties and dark pantihose pulled on white ankle socks and the new thong, pulled the skirt around her, fastened the shirt and tied her tie, she slipped on the skeletal black high heels and made sure she could actually walk in them..

“Jacket!” said Tina, “And satchel, take them off before you get to the pole!”

“Right,” said Saffron, “I suppose I had better let my hair down?” she added and she pulled the hair grips so her long honey blonde hair cascaded to her shoulders.

“How do I look?” she asked.

“OK,” Tina confirmed.

“I look like a little tart don’t I!” Saffron giggled delightedly, you’re right, I feel different, like in character, I even smell different!”

“Moth balls,” said Tina, “Are you ready because I’ll tell Harry.”

“Music!” Saffron queried.

“Try ‘Take my Breath away,’ fourteen on the play list, you know it?”

Saffron nodded and Tina shouted “Vixen, track 14!” to Harry.

“Vixen?” Saffron queried.

“Well you don’t use your own name do you?” Tina queried, “I mean Marquela Rodriguez de Santiago doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue like ‘Tina’ does it?”

“No,” Saffron agreed as the name rang some kind of bell in the recesses of her mind.

“You’re on!” Tina said, “Go!” and she swung the dressing room door open.

It led to a corridor, and another door, “Vixen ladies and gentlemen!” Harry announced and almost no one looked up as Saffron walked across to the dias, set down her school bag, peeled off her jacket and as the music started she began to dance.

No one took and real notice as she swung from the pole, even when she had one foot high above her head, until she pulled the shirt open.