Take Your Daughter To Work Day - Version Bravo
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Bob hadn't thought about his daughter since half time, when he'd called up to the box to see how she was doing, and had found out she hadn't showed up. None of the girls had. When he checked his phone he found a message from Judith that said they'd had a flat tire, but not to worry. They'd be a little late.
He hadn't had time to worry about it then. The game was tight, but his players had what it took to win. He knew it ... could feel it in his bones. All they had to do was keep from making a fatal mistake. They could win it. But they could also lose it. He called up to the box just before they took the field again.
"My daughter show up, yet?"
"No, sir," came the response.
Then it was back to the game.
The girls found the door Zoe had told them to. Judith pushed it open, carefully. There were racks with clothing hanging on hangers, or draped over the tops of the rolling racks. One woman was making the final touchups on what looked like a Las Vegas showgirl costume. The bra she was wearing had the tips of the bra cut out, so that her nipples were on full display. The sleek, red fabric clung to her waist, below that, going down to cover her, but at the same time show an almost exaggerated camel toe. She looked up at the girls.
"You think I need lipstick on my nipples?" she asked.
Four girls stared back at her, wide-eyed. Janice suddenly spoke. "Maybe a touch. You look good, though."
"Thanks," said the woman. "We probably don't need that many school girl outfits." She frowned. "Or are you some of the ones getting all the way naked in the shower room?"
"Maybe," said Janice again.
"I thought about it," said the woman. "It's more money, but who knows what those guys will be like. If they win, they'll be all wigged out about that. If they lose, they're going to want to do something to make themselves feel better. And I'm not a prude or anything, but what if more than one wanted to do me? You know?"
"Yeah," said Janice, whose voice was amazingly calm. "We were just talking about the same thing."
"Well, gotta go," said the woman. "I'm Jeanette, by the way. I'm one of Jerome's girls. You better hurry and decide what you're going to do. That Tammy girl said it's almost show time."
"So!" barked Janice. "You say the shower girls are wearing costumes too?"
"Some of them," said Jeanette. "I heard some of them talking. At least a couple are going to be pretending to be taking a shower when the guys get there. Others are going to come in and let the guys strip them and then take a shower. That sort of thing. I gotta go. I want to get a good table to dance on. See ya."
When she was gone, Janice walked over to a rack of clothing and began looking through it. It was a strange mixture of regular street clothing and costumes. She pulled off a super Supergirl outfit with a skirt that couldn't possibly cover what a skirt was supposed to cover, and held it up against her body. The bodice was made so that the part over the breasts could be removed. Janice pulled it, creating a distinctive Velcro tearing sound, and then put it back.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"Are you fucking crazy?" gasped Kendi.
"We need to find gate six," said Charlie to the guy who had just told them they couldn't take the truck into the parking area he was guarding.
"That's the vendor gate," said the man. "It's on the other side of the stadium. But the game's almost over, so you better hurry, because once people start coming out, all lanes turn to exit traffic only."
"Then we'll hurry," said the woman who looked like a nun, standing beside the man who looked like a mechanic.
As they left, the parking attendant thought about the rumors he'd heard about something wild happening in the Ocelot's locker room after the game. One of the parking attendants at the vendor gate had radioed that a lot of good looking women were showing up at that gate. He said they didn't look like regular football fans.
He thought back to the nun. She wasn't half bad herself.
But then what would a nun be doing going to a big after-the-game bash?
The girls were still standing there when another woman came hurrying into the room. There was a garment hung over her arm that was made of leopard print cloth. She looked at them.
"I'm Tammy. Only two of you can wear the same outfit. Unless two of you want to do a lesbian dance. Then the other can dance single. That way both fantasies are represented. In either case, make sure you get rid of the underwear. I don't think we're going to have time to do a regular striptease."
"We're not dancers," said Judith, who was rattled by Janice's obvious willingness to do something extremely naughty.
"You're Snooky's girls?" asked the woman, obviously surprised. "You don't look like call girls to me."
"We're not supposed to," said Janice, who was already having a blast.
"We're not call girls," said Monica, firmly. "We're school girls."
"Well, whatever you are, you're late. So make up your minds. To be honest, I probably only need two more in the showers. I can put three of you on tables to dance. I know you're not dancers, but I don't think anybody will really care. Just flash your tits a lot and give them beaver shots. That's all they really want. And you can still cut independent deals with your Johns. That's not a problem. What's it going to be?"
"We're not..." Judith started to say they were neither call girls, nor dancers, but Janice interrupted her.
"We have a question," said Janice.
"Well hurry up and ask it," said Tammy, who had pulled a hanger off the rack and arranged the leopard costume onto it. It had a hood that covered the face, with eye-holes in it. The rest of the costume looked like it would cover the whole body. A long tail hung down the back.
"We're not required to have sex with anybody ... right?"
"That's between you and the guys," said Tammy. "They've been told that some of the girls are only here to dance. Or they're going to be told. Zoe's in charge of that. How they're going to tell the difference between hookers and dancers is beyond me. But if you're one of Snooky's girls, then you cut your own deal. I sort of suspect that having sex right here in the locker room is going to be frowned on, so I wouldn't recommend that."
"So we can dance, and have fun, and not have sex ... right?" asked Janice.
"What did I just say?" groused Tammy. "Now either get dressed, or get naked. We're supposed to be in place in eight minutes!"
She hurried out, frazzled enough about doing her job well that it never occurred to her how strange it was for a hooker to ask if she might be required to have sex.
Janice turned to her friends. Her grin practically split her face in two.
"We can pull this off, girls! Can you even imagine what this will be like?"
"You're crazy," moaned Kendi. "You've actually gone crazy!"
"No I'm not. You heard her. We don't have to have sex. We can just dance. And if you don't want to do that in your uniforms, then pick a costume. We missed the game because of that stupid flat tire. But now we have a chance to do something fun ... something nobody else in school will ever get to do. We'll be famous!"
The other girls looked at each other. Judith could see the excitement in Monica's eyes, and Tiffany, while she looked stunned, was almost panting.
"Did I mention this is not a good idea?" asked Judith.
"It's not a terrible idea," suggested Monica.
"And she's right," said Tiffany. "We don't have to have sex ... and it would be exciting to dance ... just for a little while? Then we could run back in here. Nobody would follow us. Think about it. There are real dancers and real ... um ... you know in there! Who's going to follow us out of the room with all those grown women in there?"
Judith looked at Kendi. "What do you think?"
Kendi looked at the others. Janice was already unbuttoning her uniform blouse, the Supergirl costume draped over one elbow. She looked back at Judith.
"She said dancer ... but she also said stripper. What does that mean?"
"It means we dance sexy for like ... ten minutes ... and we all stay together."
Judith looked around. "I can't believe I'm going to say this ... but okay."
There was a flurry of activity then. Monica found a Batwoman costume that she chose because her face would be covered. When she got it on, though, that's about all that was covered. Only the belt, boots, gloves and hood were made of material you couldn't see through.
"It's a good thing you shave," said Janice, whose Supergirl outfit was on. "Uh oh," she added.
"What?" asked Monica.
"I can't find the panties." She bent over to look on the floor and almost her entire ass was exposed.
"Didn't she say we had to take them off anyway?"
Kendi's hands reached to actually hold her panties on, through her skirt. "This is crazy! We're going to get in so much trouble!"
"No we're not!" insisted Janice. "We dance for ten minutes and then come back here and get dressed in our uniforms again. After that we're exactly what we look like, five girls Judith's dad invited to the game. Nothing more, nothing less."
Experimentally she ripped the chest piece off, exposing her bulging, naked breasts.
"Put that back on," said Judith.
"I'm not doing this," said Kendi, folding her arms over her spare chest. "I'd be embarrassed to death. You guys are all pretty, and have good bodies. I look like a boy!"
Janice finished adjusting the front of her costume, and went to stand in front of Kendi.
"No you don't. We've talked about this before. You're a knockout. Besides, a lot of guys like little boobs. I heard there's a whole website that has only women with little boobs on it."
"I'll still die of embarrassment," moaned Kendi.
Janice pulled the leopard costume back off the rack and thrust it at Kendi.
"Wear this. It has a mask on it. Nobody will be able to see your face."
In the end, Kendi got out of her clothes and pulled on the costume. Surprisingly, it fit her like a second skin. And the hood did come over and cover her eyes and nose. Only her mouth and chin were exposed. She saw a mirror on the wall and went to stand in front of it. The costume was made of thin material, but you couldn't see through it. She began doing warm-ups, as if she was about to run a race.
"I like this," she said. "It feels really good on my skin."
"I'm keeping my uniform on," said Monica, as she bent to push her panties down her slim legs. "She said three of us could do that."
"She also said that two of us would have to do a lesbian dance if we did," said Tiffany.
Judith looked at her best friend.
"You know how we practice dirty dancing in the room?" asked Tiffany.
"We look good in our uniforms, doing that."
"I know we think we do ... but..."
"If we look at each other while we dance, it might look kind of lezzie," said Tiffany. "Come on, Judith. Let's do it. We'll never get a chance to do anything this crazy again, probably in our whole lives." Her eyes were eager.
"Hurry!" said Janice, tugging her Supergirl skirt down. She looked in the mirror. The hem of the skirt fell only an inch or two below her dark pubic hair. It was obvious that if she did anything other than stand there, her pussy would show. And if she lifted a leg, it would be even worse. She felt her nipples tingle as a wave of excitement washed over her.
"I have dark nipples," said Judith. "They'll show through my blouse for sure."
"That's the whole point!" said Tiffany. "Come on. Let's go dance dirty and see if anybody else thinks we do it good."
Judith felt a thrill race through her. It was only going to be for ten minutes. Then they'd get respectable again, and go find her father. They'd missed the game, but they could have some fun crashing this party, and then get her daddy to take them out somewhere to have more fun, doing something else.
She started unbuttoning her blouse. As she did so, Tiffany bent over and skinned her panties down to her ankles.
"Finally!" gasped Sister Francine, pushing her door open.
"I hope you find them," said Charlie. "I'll have the van ready to go tomorrow by noon."
"Thank you. God bless you, Charlie," said Sister Francine.
She ran toward the gate, where a woman holding a clipboard was standing.
The noise in the locker room was already at a fever pitch. Part of that was crowd noise, which came almost continuously now, as the two teams entered overtime, still tied. The energy of the crowd was clearly audible, and that energy seeped into the women in the locker room. It mattered not whether they were dancers, call girls, or school girls. This was an event none of them would ever forget, no matter what happened.
When the five girls walked into the locker room, there were dancers everywhere, in all manner of costume. Some were on top of tables or platforms, and were already practicing favorite moves. One girl had long hair and was bent over forward, swinging it in circles. Another was doing the splits. Two others were hugging and kissing each other like lesbian lovers. Club music was pouring from speakers set everywhere. Cases of champagne sat under some of the tables girls were dancing on. Individual bottles were already in dozens of ice buckets on tripods. A bar had been set up along one wall, staffed by five female bartenders who were stark naked, except for formal black and white collars around their necks, with matching white, fake sleeve ends around their wrists, ornamented by cuff links.
Off to one side the sound of running water was audible. Janice walked over to look into a large, open doorway. Two dozen women were standing under the showers, letting the water comb their hair as they used their hands to smooth it back. It looked almost as if they were practicing doing this in unison.
Monica pointed to an empty table. "I'm going to get up there," she said. "You guys get the one next to it."
Judith and Tiffany watched her climb up onto the table. They looked at each other.
"What do you think about what she said?" asked Tiffany.
"What about?" asked Judith.
"You know ... two school girls ... that way?"
"We're not lesbians, Tiffany," said Judith. "I thought you said we were only going to look at each other as we danced."
"I know, but we dance together in the room. I just think it would be easier to do something we already know how to do."
"We dance really dirty, Tiffany."
"I know," she said, clearly panting. "And it's fun."
Judith looked around. It was only for ten minutes.
"Okay," she said.
Tammy looked at the woman running toward her. It was almost late enough that she thought about just telling her she was too late, and sending her away. But she was already in costume. What the heck.
"I'm looking for five girls dressed in Catholic school uniforms!" blurted Sister Francine as she came to a panting halt.
"Do tell," said Zoe. "I would never have guessed. You're almost too late, but since you're in costume already, you might still make it. I love the nun idea, by the way. You almost look like one."
"I'm a novice, not a nun," said Francine, automatically.
"Doesn't matter," said Zoe. She pointed. "Amateurs are welcome too. Down that hallway. The party's about to start, so you'd better hurry."
Francine took off running. She lifted her skirts, exposing her calves, to get a longer stride. Zoe watched her, staring at the clunky black shoes the woman was wearing.
And she thought those looked sexy?!
The plan, if one wants to actually dignify it as such, was to stay together. And the girls did all want to stay together, on a subconscious level. This was exciting and fun, but it was a little scary too. But of course they were completely unprepared for what they'd jumped into, and the "plan" began to fray at the edges immediately.
The first problem with that scenario was when Janice edged further into the shower room to see better what two of the naked women were doing under one of the shower heads. It looked almost like they were fingering each other's pussies. But clouds of steam made it hard to tell for sure.
Practically all the girls at St. Clementine's had been exposed to same-sex acts of love. Just as in prison, where men participate in the only kind of sex they can get, girls trapped in a school where there are no boys will sometimes lean in the same direction. But there were very few true lesbians at the school, and unlike prison, there was a lot of guilt that came as a by-product of the sexual play the girls engaged in. Most of that sexual play happened in the dark, secretly, and it was fascinating, at least to Janice, to see it so blatant and visible in the locker room.
Judith looked around, unconsciously counting her friends.
"Where's Janice?" she said, suddenly.
"She was over by the showers a minute ago," said Kendi.
"I'll go get her," said Monica. She looked down at Kendi, who was standing in front of her table. "You keep my place for me, Kendi. Don't let anybody else get it. I'll find her and be right back."
As she, too, disappeared around the corner into the shower room, Tiffany made what she thought was a joke. "Typical," she quipped. "If Batwoman and Supergirl were in a comic together, they'd for sure get into trouble together."
It was a prophetic comment, though, because as she said "together", the double doors leading to the field burst open and what seemed like an army of huge men charged into the locker room. The sound that came with them was deafening, overcoming even the beat of the music. The Ocelots had won the Super Bowl. It was their first visit to the event, and having won it, they were, for all intents and purposes, temporarily insane with joy.
For millennia, men have gone INto battle and, when they are victorious, the one thing they have wanted to see were women ... women with which they could celebrate the fact that they were still alive ... women with which they could perform the dance that would spread the seed of the victor ... women they could mate with in an attempt to defeat time and battle by creating sons to carry on their bloodline. And while this hadn't been that kind of battle, the evolutionary instinct was the same.
Within seconds, bedlam engulfed the entire subterranean structure.
Topless women who had chosen the task of pouring champagne popped corks and held trays of filled glasses out to the victors. They were Snooky's girls, and they anticipated chatting up the men while serving them drinks. Offers would be made and the men would accept the terms. It was how the business worked. Those semi-naked servers were the first to be manhandled. Most of them had expected that. Some, for whatever reason, had not. The screams of all of them were oddly similar, though. Those screams were joined by the voices of women who hadn't even been touched yet, but who felt the thrill of being in an environment that was suddenly dangerous ... and yet dangerous in a safe kind of way, somehow. As crazy as it might seem to some, none of those women thought anybody would force them to do anything.
Nobody expected to end up in a situation that could be defined, either morally or legally, as rape.
Now, inject into that situation fifty-three football players and another two dozen assorted men who perform all the jobs that support a team on the field. They see naked women, and more women dressed in exciting, brief, sexy costumes, some of them standing on tables. Some of those women are already in the arms of the first players into the locker room. Champagne is flying through the air all over the place. The women on top of the tables start dancing in that special way that only strippers dance and, within seconds, some of them start getting naked too!
While this whole "in-the-locker-room-orgy-style" celebration was ill-conceived, at least somebody had planned for those glasses to be plastic instead of glass. And that was because the glasses got pitched, dropped and/or thrown everywhere, once they were empty. Bottles got grabbed and drunk from, or shaken up and sprayed everywhere.
If you're a guy ... you know where this is heading.
If you're a girl ... then learn from this situation.
Immediately, the room was so crowded that nobody could go anywhere fast. Such as escape.
Within the first thirty seconds, important decisions had already been made, as married men either firmed up their resolve to remain true to their wives and vows, or decided to set both aside for a bit. For the single men, the only real thought about things was the fleeting question of whether their girlfriend was among the tasty treats on display. Some guys actually looked for their girlfriend, thinking that's what this whole bunch of women was made up of - the wives and girlfriends of the players. But it only took another thirty seconds for that idea to be abandoned.
Within the next minute, players began to learn that there were naked women in the showers ... women who might be willing to help a poor, tired, victorious man get cleaned up. There was a surge of bodies toward the showers.
Monica had just caught up to Janice when the team flooded into the locker room. They didn't have a chance to get back out to their friends, and were both still there as big, hulking naked men began to stream into the shower room. The fact that they froze, right there amongst all those men, doesn't seem odd. Any Catholic schoolgirl would have frozen in that completely unfamiliar situation.
What also doesn't seem odd is that in any given group of ten or fifteen men, there will be at least one who has a little letch for either Supergirl, or Batwoman.
That they looked good in their costumes was verified, however, by the fact that each girl suddenly had two escorts leading them to the water raining down from the shower heads in the steamy room.
Of course the girls resisted. But what chance does a 110 pound girl have against a combined 500 pounds of gorilla-like males? And of course, the expectations of the men included the "roles" of the two women resisting.
Then they were both wet, and the men's hands were all over them, and it was very hard to think of just about anything.
The first part of Janice's costume to go was the chest piece that covered her soft, sensitive, lush breasts.
Kendi had still been standing in front of the table she was supposed to climb up on and save for Monica, next to the one Judith and Tiffany occupied together. Then the riot started, and bodies swept against her, shoving her deeper into the room.
"Help!" she yelped, waving her hands in the air.
"I'll help you!" yelled a grinning young man wearing slacks, a white shirt, a tie and an Ocelots jacket.
He scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed five or ten pounds. As she opened her mouth to protest, he kissed her firmly, and shoved his tongue between her open lips.
Judith reacted to the violent entry of the team, and the noise they brought with them, by the interesting mechanism of retreating into the only thing she had available. Her brain reminded her she was "supposed to be dancing." So she started dancing. And since she was in too much shock to really think about all this, her mind reverted to the kind of dancing they had planned to do, and which her body was most familiar - the kind of dancing she did in her room at school, where nobody but Tiffany saw her.
When a girl is sequestered in a school where there are no boys, and she doesn't get to interact with the opposite sex on a social basis, the only thing she has is her imagination. And her natural curiosity and desires, of course. Good old Mother Nature makes sure she has the full quota of hormones flowing through her veins, nuns or not. And so, since the girls couldn't actually have a regular relationship involving boys, the only thing they could do was use their imaginations and do a little play acting in their rooms.
Part of that play acting for Judith and Tiffany had been the practicing of how they would dance for a boy they planned to let into their very tight, very virginal panties. Somehow that very dirty dancing both fueled their libidos, and provided some release, all at the same time. Those dance sessions were often followed by very intense masturbatory sessions, sometimes individually, and sometimes in concert with each other.
So when Judith started dancing, and was still too shocked to really think about it at first, she just did what came naturally in her room. Or maybe it was muscle memory at work. Whatever the explanation, she started dancing. On a very basic, very practical plane ... it was something to do while her stressed out mind tried to bring sense to what was happening around them.
Those minds, however, weren't given a lot of slack time to think, and reflect. Instead, their senses were assaulted by a number of things. There were the screams and shrieks around them, and the men kissing and groping women all over the place. Some women who had on costumes were being systematically stripped by one man, while being kissed by another. Bottles were being passed around, including to the dancers on the tables, who took a hit and passed the bottle on. Judith and Tiffany got passed those bottles too, and since they were suddenly very thirsty, and their throats were very dry, they drank deeply before passing the bottle along.
Neither girl thought anything about the fact that one of the primary purposes of dancing the way they danced, was to let the imaginary boys they danced for see their panties.
Or the fact that they weren't wearing panties any more.
In their room, they danced in pajamas, or in T shirts they raised to expose their panties to each other.
Muscle memory caused them to raise their school girl skirts now.
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