Entry 100

    I took over an hour to get dressed Diary. I was so
nervous about getting caught! When I had dinner, I sat at
the table as Daddy and mom first asked me tons of questions,
then slowly were appeased. “Where were you and Jen going
again?” “What time were you going to be home again? But the
radio says the Haunted House only takes an hour so what are
you going to be doing the rest of the night?” Not only did I
have the answers ready, but the delivery had to be casual,
quick, and with a hint of annoyance. “I’m picking Jen up
from work, then getting her boyfriend. There’s no telling if
she’ll get off exactly when I get there, or her boyfriend.
Then we’ll probably get something to eat, or after we do the
Haunted House, maybe. Then taking them both back. God, mom,
you know nothing ever goes like you plan it!”
   I used her words against her, and I instantly felt bad.
She had been talking to me about Daddy. She knew he was
going to be a minister, and a good one. She knew her life
would be a hectic one as a mother, and minister’s wife, and
all the hobbies and special works she loved. But who knew
her husband would become such a secretive, easily provoked
person? And if I told her about what I heard from Jen at
church, God, if I told her about the things he’s done with
me, well, see, that’s why I never will. She must never know.
   Anyways, they knew Jen from church, and remembered her
from my dance classes. That and my stellar performance, and
I had Mom’s keys to her SUV. I had to look like it wasn’t
that big a deal, but I showered using my favorite body wash
(Berry/Rose), Mane and Tail for the hair, and the
clothes,,,, Hmmm.
   Cold and windy. Plus the T.V. commercial said wear
clothes you don’t mind getting wet, or stained! But I had
other plans for the night too, so,, Basics white cotton
panties and bra- unembellished, but warm. Then over them, I
pulled one of the last outfits from my erotic dancing days
in Florida, that my parents didn’t cut up. A bright red
satin panty with lace, and the matching lace covered bra.
White thigh high stockings with a lace cuff brought back a
strange sexy feeling, which at the time had to be hidden.
Then a floppy soccer team sweater and old khaki pants.
Hiking boots and thick socks, and hoop earrings. Perfectly
non-descript Diary but, in my book bag (I’m carrying it now
like a purse, since I started college and don’t want to
carry 2 things on my shoulder!) I threw in a pair of clear
three-inch platform heels, a towel, and my makeup, perfume
and alligator clutch purse. I heard mom and Daddy fighting
yet again, so I didn’t even say goodbye, I just walked
slowly to the garage, and was down the driveway before the
door had completely closed.
   Nobody knows Jen dances at a local strip club. It’s a
dive, small and dark and smoky, Diary. She uses the name
Sparky.  What light there is comes from the colored lights
on the stage, and black lights, so with a colored makeup,
you can greatly alter your appearance, face shape, hair
color, etc. She would lose a lot if anyone at the church was
to find out what she did at night 3 nights a week, but if I
got caught, I would lose my living at home for free, my car,
free college, and would destroy my Daddy and mom, who
claimed their coaxing my return from Florida and the den of
sin I lived in with Meg and the other dancers was a victory
against Satan. I simply couldn’t get caught.
   But I couldn’t NOT do it! I parked in the back lot,
between pickup trucks. I pulled my black London Fog trench
around me and walked around to the front door. A customer
was walking in (wow I’m using the jargon again!) and when he
saw me he held the door, smiling that smile and posturing,
as if he was sure I was a dancer, and was hoping for
preferential treatment that night. Instead of hiding my
face, turning from him or whatever, without thinking I ran
my hand across his coat as I passed, and looked him in the
eye when I mouthed the words ‘thank you’. I’m not normally a
very sexy person. I’m not a flirt definitely. But here I
was, body instantly falling back into its groove. The second
door was held by a bouncer, a huge black man in an amazing 3-
piece suit! I think the two men in front of me just paid
some kind of cover charge, but he just waved me on by,
without going for a free grab or peck on the cheek, like
most door bouncers do.
   God it was smoky and dark! Packed too- there are only
maybe ten tables, and the bar has about 6 stools, but
there’s the familiar long hallway in back to the dressing
room, and bathrooms. There was a mostly red hue to the room,
with a little white rotating light, and a couple “police”
siren lights that occasionally went off, sending yellow and
blue streaks around the room just above head height. Well,
if your head is about seven feet in the air anyway! See,
that makes it about waist high on the small platform the
dancers work on. There were 2 poles, and enough area to
kinda shake and all that, but not the long runway I was use
to. But on one end they had mounted from the roof, a swing!
How kewl is that?
   Jen was walking to the dressing room, and ran over people
standing in the aisle, and hugged me. I hugged her back,
like we were two members of a resistance in a country
captured by the enemy. How really really good it felt. I was
alarmed though when, as she let me in the dressing room, the
white glaring light showed she had left glitter and makeup
on the coat! She said she needed to go up in a second, and
did I want to join her? Well, it took less than a minute and
there I was, in stocks and red 2 piece, heels too, with my
hair in pig tails just above my ears. “Sparky” gave me some
lipstick and I noticed she uses really weird colors in white
light, but in a mostly red room, they look perfect! Her
theater work shows, and her dance experience came through
too!
   We walked out, and straight to the stage. The dancer up
there was moving over to the swing, so we stood on our left
side of the stage, and started moving. I never heard the
song before, and couldn’t really get into it. Plus ok, I was
nervous and “in my head” . Sparky on the other hand started
just shaking body parts. That triggered a body memory, so
without attending to the tune, I turned around, put my hands
on the mirror wall, and stuck my butt as far out as I could
and not fall. Then I shimmied for almost ten seconds! There
was a slap to my butt and Sparky giggling. She was working a
customer. I could hear her talking to him, saying, “you like
this?” I turned around as a familiar song queued on the
computer. I couldn’t see his face well, and wasn’t use to
this seedy, anonymous kind of erotic dancing. This wasn’t
erotic performing, this was sexual, this was base, erotic
stripping and arousing. And it was starting to work on me,
Diary. Instead of posing there, the song “Bare Naked” had
infected my hips and I was rolling them and swaying in slow,
snake like motions as Sparky got onto her knees, toward the
customer, teasing as he put a dollar in her g-string. Then-
completely illegal at my old club, she hugged him, pulling
his face between her boobs. I guess I should call them tits,
even though I don’t like the word. Strippers don’t have
boobs, they have tits, and though Jen has nice boobs, Sparky
pulled the customer’s head to her tits. It was time to
switch, and the dancer coming up didn’t like so many on
stage, which I understand. It really is small! So Sparky
said she’d do a twosome with her, and give her any tips from
it, just to be up there with me in case I freaked out.
Diary, I sooo would have freaked if she hadn’t been there.
And I saw that first dancer doing really kewl stuff in the
swing, but I was scared, so I just swung and waved. I told
Sparky she had to teach me stuff from the swing, and that
made her feel really good. She said to me, as we got
dressed, that she forgot how good a dancer I was. I really
didn’t even try you know. Just did some simple slow stuff,
and went with it. Maybe the blinking flashing colored lights
brought back some of the instinct. But No Doubt, when I
started getting turned on, I got better. Not sure what that
means Diary.
   We were at the pharmacy picking up her boyfriend the next
thing I knew.  He’s tall and too thin, with a goatee and
long stringy black hair. Diary I totally can’t stand him. He
looked at me from the first second like he wanted, no, he
WAS GOING to have sex with me behind Jen’s back. Later I
noted he did that with every woman over 14 years old that
was under 180 pounds, pretty or not, with her there, or not.
He works at a pharmacy? Jeez! They barely talked.
   OK, THE HAUNTED HOUSE

   We had to wait outside for 20 minutes in line, and the
house literally shook! Lights came out windows, blaring
noise, and from the second floor, a slide was how you got
out. Now I knew why it was on the T.V. news! I started
getting this strange anxiety, half fear, half waiting in a
crowd of people. I have kind of a problem with that, for
more insight see the stack of other diaries, and the
journals my therapist used to make me write in. We met some
families from church, and some of her friends from the
theater. Her boyfriend of course was more interested in other
women than Jen. Then a worker in a clown outfit, with a
walkie-talkie approached us. It was now our turn! They told
me leave my coat if it was nice, so I did. They said inside
was heated “kinda”.
   The floor shook as we entered, and rocked left and right
like a boat. It never got better. The walkways were so
narrow I barely squeezed through and I’m only 5 foot 6
(almost) and 128 pounds. How could big people get into it?
They had some cute scenes, with robot ghouls and those that
worked on air, sitting up when you walk by, and say silly
things to you. Walking up the stairs, one of the stairs was
missing, and replaced with a big block of sponge that looked
real till you stepped on it and sunk! Ok, that sucked! And
screams were everywhere. In one room people were getting
disemboweled, and their screams and blood were so real I
almost freaked! I did scream as I recall.
   Long story short, I ended up somewhere in the dark, pretty
weirded out, and wasn’t sure if Jen was just ahead or just
behind me, so I was trying to catch up to her. I got to and
end, and as I turned a black and dark corner, I saw a
bicycle reflector on the wall. I was sure I just triggered
something, but what? Fear flooded in and blood rushed to my
face, and the dizziness came quickly on dark wings. I got
that tunnel vision, so I put my hands on the walls and you
wouldn’t think black could get blacker, right? I mean DARK!
I took maybe five steps, and the walls felt like smooth,
cold.
   In front of me, about 30 feet, a huge roulette wheel on
the wall lit up. It was easily 10 feet across, had
spotlights aimed at it, a long string of red lights in a
spiral pattern, and a strobe light in the center. The
spotlights and red “spiral” lit first as it spun, and then
just as I was noticing the red beads of lights rolling
around in a spiral, the strobe light in the center
completely disoriented me, shocked me, and enhanced the
dizziness I was already experiencing. I grabbed to my right,
and the wall fell away from my grasp! The wall was a smooth,
black, stretchy fabric like a rubber, but very stretchy like
a pantyhose. Several pairs of hands were on the other side,
lifting me up. Some were quite strong nearly supporting my
entire weight. As I went upright, I put my hand out to the
other wall, and it put its hands out to me! My arms went
deep into the stretchy material, and at least 2 pairs of
hand from my left secured my arm, while one pair grabbed my
left leg, and another my left waist. The right side was
equally clasped, and I was tugging on these hands when I
noticed the spiral, and the weird noise coming from the
wheel. I felt like I was drowning, succumbing.
   A voice said, “Prepare the sacrifice!” I tried to scream,
but out came this little whiny noise with a tail of a moan
on it. I got flushed again. I gasped for air, and a small
pair of hands on my right slid up my sweater, raising it to
the bra. The leg hands started this grasping and sliding,
like a massage through my khakis. It felt soooo good Diary.
Why would I want to break free of that? So when the waist
hands on the left slid up my belly and back, to equal the
right ones, I just sighed heavily. Well this seemed to be a
cue to the magic hands, because they instantly had my
sweater up, and were groping my boobs, still in the red
shiny dance bra. My butt was getting a great workover as was
my crotch, and the voice was saying “Do you like that?” I
managed to say “Oh my god” in a deep breathy voice.  It
spoke again, saying, “Watch the spiral, spiral, spiral.”
   I don’t remember what happened for a while then. The
spiral stopped and the strobing too, leaving just the white
lights illuminating the large colorful glittery roulette
wheel. I zipped up my pants, straightened my bra and
sweater, and smoothed out my clothes. Nothing missing or out
of place, so I sort of floated around the wheel, to a window
where the nicest man I’ve ever met helped me into this
yellow slide chute and I flew for what seemed like an hour
down it, to the street. I was so hot and aroused Diary, I
didn’t want anyone I knew to see me, but at the end of the
chute was Jen. She was laughing because they heard over the
walkie-talkies that there was a delay in the hypnotic
sacrifice area from one of the workers and to hold others
back for a few minutes. I had to admit it was me, since Jen
knows (a little) about me and hypnosis, mainly from my
therapy days. She asked me if the I was scared when they
stabbed me with the trick dagger, but I honestly don’t
remember anyone doing anything with a dagger or anything!
   We stood in this parking lot, wet from sprayers inside,
with goo and cobwebs and junk on us, cold in the wind, and I
was so horny I could barely walk! Remind me to ask my close
chat friends if they have ever been so turned on that it
hurt to walk. I’m not sure how we got to the White Castle,
but a couple burgers later I drove “Sparky” back to work. Oh
yeah, somewhere in the House, her boyfriend met “someone”
and had to go talk to him or her. He probably didn’t get
back to work, so if he’s fired, I’m sooo telling Jen to dump
him! And if he left Jen for another girl, like one without a
child, or younger even than her (22) I’m getting a hit squad
to visit. Except he’s not worth going to jail for. God Diary
he’s not worth anything I swear.
   Still dripping from the shower as I write this, the
coat’s mysterious stains of makeup and glitter were easily
explained, as was the glitter on me. They said they couldn’t
smell smoke or anything, just onions from the burger, so
here’s a tip- wanna hide smells from parents? Eat onions!
And if I ever have a daughter that comes home smelling like
onions,, , ,
   Tomorrow- take clothes to cleaner, and get ready for
class.