Kidnapped By A Stripper (Prologue)

This story really begins five years ago. Victor Maxell was the founder and CEO of Maxell International, the largest and most profitable tech firms in the Santa Barbara area. He had it all: movie star good looks, fast cars, a nice home, tons of expensive toys, more money than Gates. The only down side to his life was his wife. She was a lovely woman but he only married her because he knocked her up. His marriage was a joke and he needed a distraction and he needed it bad. And he found it.

Driving home late one night Victor noticed a billboard he had not seen before. It featured a scantily clad woman clutching a pole seductively. The sign read “The Back Room: A New Kind of Gentlemen’s Club.” The grand opening was that night. Why the hell not? He could always use a lap dance.

To be honest, The Back Room was just like any other gentlemen’s club. It was dark and smoky with one stage and a bar. So much for truth in advertising; but it beat going home, Victor told himself.

“Gentlemen, put your hands together for the lovely Roxie!”

Some kind of supposedly sexy techno music began to play overhead. A spotlight illuminated the stage, and out she stepped. Roxie. God she was gorgeous. She was young, at least 18, if he had to guess. A lean build with legs to die for. They seemed to go on forever. And that ass; god it was nearly perfect. The chest was a little small but the long wavy brown hair framing those fiery dark eyes and full pouty lips more than made up for it.

And he noticed this despite the fact she was dressed in a dark blue power suit and Ducky (Pretty in Pink) fedora. She sauntered around the stage enjoying every moment of her little show.  The first thing to come off was the left shoe, which she tossed back stage. Then came the right. She then unbuttoned her pants but left them on. Instead, she started unbuttoning her shirt from the top down slowly. She had the tease part down pat.

Halfway down, she stopped. She instead started unbuttoning the other way. God she was hot. Then she slid off her pants and tossed them aside. Underneath, her firm ass was held tight by a thong that seemed to disappear. Then with a final flourish she undid the last button of her shirt and let it drop to the ground. Beneath, her pert little breasts were supported by a neon pink bra.

She grabbed the pole and began a wonderfully seductive little dance. She hung upside down, gyrated and everything else she could seem to think of. Then the bra came off. The whoops and cat calls reached a fever pitch. Then the song ended and she was gone. A waitress came by.

“Miss, miss.”

“Yes?”

“Can I arrange a lap dance from that young woman? Roxie, I mean.”

“You sure can. Just a sec.”

Less than ten minutes later, there she was. She stood next to his table, bare tits in his face.

“I hear you wanted to talk to me.”

“Oh, I want to do a little more than just talk.”

“Good, so do I.”

She took his hand and led him to a private room in the back. It was small and dark with blue mood lighting. She pushed him into a soft plush red chair. He handed over his money and she got to work. She climbed up onto his lap and started her dance. She began to rub herself all around him without ever touching.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s with the hat?”

“Oh this? It never comes off.”

“Why not?”

“It’s lucky.”

“Well that’s good.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I want to get lucky.”

“Wow, you did not just say that.”

“And what if I did?”

“Then I feel sorry for you.”

“Or you could come home with me.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“It’s against the rules.”

“So what?”

“I could lose my job.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Stop it.”

“Why?”

“I can’t.”

He grabbed her and pulled her down onto him kissing her deeply and passionately.

“Yes, you can.”

That night he took her back to one of his side apartments. They made love like he never had before. It was the hottest thing he had ever felt. That was five years ago.

Now life was very different. Roxie had been his mistress since that night. She lived in the apartment which he paid for along with her new breasts. The club closed down so she relied entirely on him for money. Every night she tied his hands to the bed frame to make things more interesting. All in all it was a good system. Until…

“What?” Roxie asked incredulously.

“I’m done with you,” Victor told her.

The two were lying in bed having just made love.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. It’s been fun but I’m bored. I’m looking for someone new, someone younger,” Victor explained as he started dressing, “the rent is paid to the end of the month, then you need to get out of here.”

“But …”

“No but’s, just leave.”

“I gave you five years of my life.”

“And?”

With that, he was gone.  Who did he think he was? He couldn’t use her like this. She had given up everything to be with him and he could just throw it all away? No, no he could not. NO, HE COULD NOT!!! She would fix him. Somehow, someway, she’d fix him. Then she saw the rope on the head board. That gave her an idea.