Another Friday afternoon had arrived.  For most of Denise’s colleagues, that meant a weekend free from work, outside of the occasional papers to grade and tests to prepare.  For Denise, though, it meant something quite different.

The young, beautiful, second-year high school history teacher had a second job; she moonlighted as a stripper/dancer at the nearest strip club, an hour away across the state line.  Denise had done some of it while attending college, mostly for extra shoe-shopping money (she did love high heeled shoes!), but now that she was out of school and on her own, she found that the meager salary a new teacher received wasn’t quite enough to pay her rent, utilities, food, and sizable student loan payments.  

The money was good – in fact, she made more money in two weekend nights at the club than she did from the whole week of teaching – but she did worry at times that someone would recognize her, someone from her school or someone that knew her from her community.  She took every precaution she could – nobody at the club knew she was a teacher, and nobody from her school knew about her second job.  And she dressed very conservatively at school, which was expected of her anyway, so that she doubted anyone would recognize her even if they did know her.

A couple of hours later, after getting some dinner and making the drive over the state line, Denise arrived in her dressing room and began the transformation from ‘Teacher Denise’ to her stripper identity, Red Hot.  Her conservative heels were replaced by thigh high bright red boots; her plain-looking blouse and long skirt were replaced by a fiery red bra and thong; and her short brown hair was replaced by a sultry red-haired wig, with hair that went all the way down her back.  She wore glasses at school, so that meant contacts at the club – although tonight she was forced into wearing her glasses, as she had just run out of her daily-wear contacts and didn’t have an eye appointment scheduled until the following week.

A pair of long red gloves, a red collar, dangly earrings and bright red lipstick, along with the rest of her makeup, completed the look.  She glanced at herself in the mirror – even with the glasses on she looked nothing like the woman who taught 16 to 18 year olds every weekday.  And once she was through with her stage dance, she could lose the glasses for any lap-dances she was asked to do – she only needed them to see far away.

A short while later, it was her turn on stage.  Denise reveled in all of the attention she received as she moved her athletic, curvy form seductively around the platform, amidst hoots and shouts of ‘Red Hot!’ When she stripped away her red bra, revealing her firm, magnificent 36D breasts, the crowd cheered even louder.  She knew that she was just an object for their amusement and gratification, and somehow that thought made her that much more excited as she pranced around the stage.

Once her dance was over, one of the club bouncers helped her down from the stage and led her to the back of the crowd, to whoever had requested her for a personal lap dance that night.  She never knew who it would be – and for her, that was part of the thrill.  She always felt safe, since the club’s rules prohibited the guests from touching any of the dancers unless it was in one of the VIP rooms, and even then the dancer had to consent.

Once the bouncer indicated which patron Denise was to entertain, he stepped away, allowing the red-clothed dancer to approach on her own.  As Denise got close, she saw it was a young woman; while the vast majority of the club’s customers were men, occasionally women would attend, and this wouldn’t be the first time Denise had been asked to give a woman a lap dance.  She smiled, forgetting that she still had her glasses on, and moved into a position to start her routine.

The young woman, dressed in a white spaghetti-strap top with red dots and a pair of jean shorts, looked up at Denise.  “Are you…” she started, catching Denise a bit by surprise.

“Huh?!” Denise responded, as she looked at the girl closer.  She looked familiar, but in that moment Denise’s mind was unable to process where she knew her from.

“Miss….” The young woman began, and Denise gulped.  It was one of her students, Carrie Saunders! Denise froze, her mouth open, in complete shock.  “Wow, it IS you! Wow, I didn’t know teachers work two jobs!”

Denise glanced around in a panic, grateful that none of the other patrons were within earshot.  She turned her attention back to Carrie.  “How…how did you get inside??! You need to be 21!!!!”

“Fake ID,” the 18-year-old senior replied with a smile.  She was looking up at Denise, who was still wearing the same shocked expression.

“Damn, I didn’t recognize you with all the makeup smeared on your face,” Denise muttered, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say yet.

“I know, looks cool, doesn’t it?!” Carrie pulled a dollar bill from her pocket and attempted to slide it into Denise’s thong, but Denise pushed her hand away before she could.

“Oh God,” Denise gasped, “this isn’t happening!” This was the very thing Denise had worried about and thought she could avoid, being discovered by one of her students! The club was usually good at sniffing out fake IDs, Carrie’s must have been really good, she thought, her head still spinning.

“Wow,” Carrie smiled again, “you have such a nice body. And incredible boobs,” she added.

“Stop staring at them!” Denise pleaded, as she felt Carrie’s eyes burning holes in her nipples.  She gulped again as she felt them getting firm – what was wrong with her? This situation couldn’t be turning her on, could it?

“But that’s what I came here for…” Carrie laughed, as she tried once more to stuff the money into the befuddled teacher’s thong.

“And stop trying to put money in my underwear!” Denise exclaimed, once again looking around to make sure nobody else was paying attention to them.

“You obviously need it, since you’re working here,” Carrie grinned, seeming to enjoy her teacher’s predicament.

Denise was visibly shaking, as well as breathing faster.  “Jesus,” she mumbled, “what do I do now??”

“How about a lap dance?” Carrie replied, still grinning like the cat that ate the canary.  “You were gonna do it anyway.”

“Oh no…” Denise groaned, her head spinning still, “if the word gets out…”

“I won’t tell anyone.”  Carrie seemed to be really enjoying how much she was making Denise blush and squirm.  “But I want some things in return.”

“You little witch!” Denise whispered, catching herself before uttering the ‘b’ word.  “Fine, let’s talk about it backstage, follow me.”  Denise stood up, still visibly trembling, and turned around to find the nearest door to the back.”

“Okie dokie,” Carrie agreed, and as she stood up, she let her right hand graze the exposed butt of her history teacher.  “Wow, your butt is so shapely and firm.”

“Stop touching it.  Goddammit!” Denise exclaimed, as a few eyes darted in their direction.  She started walking briskly towards the door, desperately wanting to get as far away as she could.  “Someone pinch me, I want to wake up from this nightmare,” she added as she opened the door.

“Alright…” Carrie replied as her fingers gently squeezed Denise’s right buttock before following her through the door.

“Ouch!” Denise exclaimed, turning to face her student now that they were both through the door and away from the rest of the crowd.  “Walk in front of me!”

Carrie obliged, walking down the corridor, as Denise followed closely behind.  “So, ‘Red Hot’ is your stage name? It suits you really well, mind if I call you that in class?” she laughed.

“I will murder you if you do!” Denise asserted, as Carrie glanced through a door to her right into one of the empty VIP rooms.  She walked in, and as Denise followed her in, she shut the door behind her.

“Oh, I don’t think you will.”  There was a chair in the center of the room; Carrie sat down in it, as Denise stood in front of her, her hands over her breasts, still shaking and looking shocked by this turn of events.

“Wh-what do you want from me?” Denise stuttered, not feeling in control of the situation at all.

“Well, for starters, and this one should be obvious – I get an A in your class.  Guaranteed.”

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Denise muttered.  “You promise not to tell anyone, and I give you an A. Deal.” She started towards the door, but Carrie put her hand out to stop her.

“Oh no, that’s not all.  Get back here in front of me.”

“Oh-okay,” Denise shuddered, obeying her student as she stepped back in front of her.
“Good girl.” Carrie smiled.  “Now, on your knees.”

“Wh-what?” Denise gulped, her legs shaking, her knees feeling rubbery.

“I’m in charge here, so do what I told you, or the whole school finds out about your second job.  Kneel.”

Denise swallowed hard as her knees gave way.  As she fell to them, her perspective changed – instead of looking down at her student, she was now looking up at her.

“Good girl,” Carrie repeated.  “Now, listen carefully.  From this moment on, you belong to me.  You’re going to give me your personal cell number, and if I call or text you and tell you to do something, or to come to my house, you’re going to obey.  Understood?”

“Yes,” Denise breathed, looking up at Carrie.  Her expression started to soften a bit.  What choice did she have, she thought – at least Carrie was a senior, so in a few months she’d be off to college somewhere and probably forget all about this.

“Good girl.”  Carrie reached her hand down and stroked Denise’s chin, then moved her fingers along her cheek, then softly over Denise’s red lips, watching as Denise opened her mouth a bit more.  “You like this don’t you?  This attention,” watching as Denise nodded yes.  Then her fingers slid down Denise’s neck and chest before gently pinching one of her nipples.

“Oh!” Denise moaned, feeling herself responding, even as she tried to tell herself she shouldn’t.  Her breathing quickened a bit more.

“Yes, you love this attention.  No wonder you became a stripper, Red Hot.  I think I will call you that from now on – but don’t worry, not where anyone else at school can hear.  That is, as long as you continue to be a good girl.”

“I will,” Denise panted, her eyes fluttering as Carrie other hand moved to her other nipple.  Her head was still spinning, the pinching was making it really hard for her to compose a thought.

“Good girl,” Carrie smiled as she gently raised her hands, guiding her teacher off of her knees.  “Now, about that lap dance…”