The California Trip Ch. 01

"I liked your face sitting, with cum dripping out of your holes into the other's mouth, and it would be good to see more of that in the final production, but you won't have each other in the auditions. And by the way, I don't make the audition decision alone. We are prepared to invest some serious bucks in your production, which means name guys, fancy set, glitzy cover, possibly even worldwide distribution, the wholeworks. So it behooves us to be absolutely sure. My partner and the three members of our board sit in on the auditions, so you'll have a live audience. I've already seen you in action, but they haven't. The decision has to be unanimous. So you can see, this is no trifling matter and we take it extremely seriously. If you make it through auditions, there will be contracts for each of you to sign, and you can have a lawyer go over them if you want, but it's only one page and standard for the industry. Oh, and you'll need to be tested for all STD's including HIV before it's a go, even for the auditions; that's also an industry standard; no exceptions.

I asked, "Speaking of audiences, who were the older people who filled out the audience in the Chef Jeff piece?"

"Oh, those are just some of our in-house clerical folks, wardrobe and make-up people, office personnel. You can imagine how frustrating it would be for them to work for an adult production company if all the good stuff always took place behind closed doors, so sometimes they get to watch. It helpsus when we need extras, and it's not only a special treat for them, it helps them understand the business a lot better."

"Don't the actors mind extraneous people watching them perform?"

"If they do, they shouldn't be doing this kind of work. Remember what I said about self-consciousness. And besides, this is a very competitive business. If a girl is adamant about not doing something, there are five others ready to take her place – and she knows it. In fact, that's why you see so many things now that used to be taboo. Everyone is trying to outdo their competition. This is true between studios, but even more true with the girls. There's virtually nothing some girls won't do on camera now, and everyone else has to keep up, or they don't get the work. For example, you can try to refuse a director's request to let guys cum in your ass, or down your throat, but if you do the word will get around that you're skittish and you may well find yourself out the door."

We agreed on the Wednesday morning auditions, with a full production shoot the following Monday if all went according to plan. We would need the blood tests which Bob would arrange for tomorrow. I would get my hair dyed from auburn to jet black, and Janie would go from blonde to brunette. We would both have dark brown contact lenses. We could take care of these items on Tuesday, and by late that same afternoon the blood test results would be back, not that we were worried about them.

Bob asked, "Have you ever been to a strip club? Many girls start out there before getting into movies." Neither of us had. "I want to take you to one tomorrow evening, you will see why after we get there."

So we had our schedule. The rest of the day was ours to hang out, which is exactly what we did.

At 9:30 Monday morning Julio took us to a nearby clinic to have our blood drawn, and a local optometrist fitted us with colored non-prescription soft contact lenses. We made 2 PM appointments to have our hair colored, and had manicures and pedicures. Then we each treated ourselves to an hour of deep massage in the hotel health club. I felt like a new person, and I looked like one too. I hardly recognized myself in the mirror; Janie also looked completely different with dark hair. Bob was right; no one would be recognizing us, especially with garish eye make up and vampish lipstick, which is what we were planning for our auditions. Tomorrow morning we would also visit the wardrobe department and pick out some stuff there. It briefly occurred to me that we had been our undisguised selves as part of the audience in the movie shoot we had witnessed, but there was nothing to be done about that now, and it was unlikely that anyone would ever notice us sitting quietly in the audience while Debbie was getting all her holes pounded on that kitchen table.

Monday evening, Bob picked us up at eight PM; I was gratified with his not entirely unexpected double-take at our drastically new personas. We were even practicing with the new contact lenses, which actually were no problem whatsoever. In a few minutes we were on a busy boulevard with lots of restaurants and clubs. We pulled up in front of a somewhat gaudy building with a flashing neon sign advertising "Wild Kitty Club, 100 girls, all nude, all the time," with a cat in a g-string making bumping and grinding movements. It reminded me of the similar sign in the movie "Porky's." We valet parked, and entered a dark foyer where a hostess who obviously knew Bob greeted us.

Further inside was a very large, moderately busy but not filled room, divided into several sections by railings, and a few steps here and there which provided for different viewing levels. There was a huge horseshoe shaped bar, with a stage inside the horseshoe, on which a totally nude young pretty long-haired brunette was gyrating to the rock music. There were three other stages in various parts of the room, one of which looked to be the main stage. Each had a brass pole; the main stage had two. The main stage featured two dancers; the other three stages each had one. Each dancer was either totally nude or wore just a g-string. All wore variations of 6-inch lucent platform heels, which highly accentuated the muscles of their calves. Young waitresses in brief halter tops and tight shorts that caressed their crotches and left their asses half naked brought drinks to customers sitting at the numerous cocktail tables scattered throughout the establishment. A disc jockey changed the music, and every so often announced the names of the next dancers to get ready for their turns on the various stages.

We sat at a cocktail table, where a waitress immediately took our drink orders. Bob explained the protocol. The strippers, some in skimpy tops and bottoms, some just in g-strings, worked the room, mixing with customers, chatting it up, getting them to spring for six-dollar cokes, ten dollar "private dances, or twenty-five dollar lap dances which would take place in one of two curtained-off "friction" rooms. For a tableside "private dance" a girl would strip completely nude for the customer, and for the four-minute duration of one of the disc jockey's songs, would gyrate for him, hover over him, even bend over and present her bare pussy inches from his face, but only very casual contact was permitted. You could touch her breasts, maybe kiss a nipple, but really nothing else. After four minutes, she either put her little bottom and maybe the top back on, or stayed nude for you for another four minutes for another ten dollars. The economic system at work.

For twenty-five dollars, a girl would lead you by the hand into one of the curtained "friction" rooms where she would do a lap dance. You sat in a plush, comfortable chair, and the girl straddled you. Here full contact was the rule, except that, alas, the girl had to keep her g-string on. With the girl's OK, you could touch any part of her you wanted, even finger her if she'd let you, although no rule said shehad to let you if she didn't feel like being fingered just then. You basically fucked her with your clothes on. Some girls would French kiss, some wouldn't. Of course, the more she allowed, the more likely you were to buy another four minutes of friction for another twenty-five dollars, and of course the girl understood that. She would probably get you to cum after one or two four-minute sessions, which was the general idea. Some girls tried to tease their customers along, to stretch out two songs into three or four, but this technique generally only worked on a guy once. The club discouraged it because they thrived on repeat business. Regulars soon learned to easily tell from a girl's onstage demeanor whether she was a "teaser" or a "pleaser." A black-suited bouncer with a little earphone circulated regularly in and out of the friction rooms to make sure everything remained generally copasetic.

Off the "friction" rooms were a number of smaller "champagne" rooms. Here, for $225 you got a bottle of champagne and forty-five minutes alone with the stripper of your choice. No bouncers to interrupt your privacy. It wasn't 100% clear what the limits were in the champagne rooms, if indeed there were any limits at all. Some guys went in there with their girlfriends or escorts they had hired for the occasion. It was rumored that even wives were allowed.

I enjoyed watching the dancers. Every girl wore a garter, and you could go up to the edge of the stage and they would squat down so you could stick a dollar bill or two in the garter. You could chat for a moment with the girl and ask her over to your table for a private dance, though there was no guarantee she would take you up on your offer – depending on how popular she was. It was a microcosm of the dating scene in general. Certain girls were more popular than others. There was competition for the very sexiest girls, who tended to gravitate only to the most attractive male customers. The less attractive and less sexy girls couldn't afford to be as selective and would service just about anyone. But actually I found that virtually all of the girls were at least reasonably attractive. I figured anyone who wasn't either wouldn't embarrass herself by putting herself so out of place, or wouldn't be hired in the first place.

One turn for a girl onstage was two four-minute songs. For the first four minutes she would appear in whatever outfit she fancied, then almost immediately peel down to bra and g-string, then just to g-string. As the second song started she peeled off the g-string too and danced totally nude for the rest of the session. Every single girl without exception had a shaved pussy. Right away I noted a wide range of talent. Some girls showed little or no energy, and just went through the motions. They took off their clothes all right, but they made no eye contact with anyone in the audience, and looked like they were a million miles away, and probably wished they were too. Their body language was an utter turn-off despite their nudity. On the other hand, some girls were real pros at this. Some girls could use the pole expertly; the girl somehow managed to gymnastically invert herself upside down on the pole, wrapping her legs around it, and sliding on the pole, rubbing her bare pussy along it. Or a girl might lie on her back, legs spread wide and gently finger herself for the audience. Often a girl liked to reward a guy for a dollar bill in the garter by coming within a few inches of his face with her cunt, all the while keeping tight eye contact. Very sexy. I was surprised at what they allowed you to do in such a public venue.

When she was done with her eight minutes onstage, a girl was free to mix with the audience and sell as many private dances and lap dances as she could. You were mostly on your feet for an eight hour shift, on those uncomfortable platform shoes, being as social as you could manage, and a salesperson as well. The product you were selling was yourself. It wasn't easy work and you had to be in excellent physical shape, but if you really had your moves down you could do very well, and that was without actually fucking or blowing anyone, although I suspected that a lot of the girls did that on the side, and who knew what went on even right here on the premises in those champagne rooms? A popular girl could easily make $800 or more on a reasonably good shift. That was $4000 for a five-day work week, a very generous six-figure annual income. Not bad. Some girls worked just a shift or two per week as a moonlighting job, and eventhatwasn't bad. I thought about Debbie, struggling along on her first grade teacher's meager salary before she just had no choice but to wise up.

We watched the girls for awhile, studying their different techniques. We all pretty much agreed on the four or five girls that would be well-advised to seek another line of work, and also agreed on three we thought were especially vivacious. One of the three, a lithe blonde named Natasha, was dancing nude on the main stage right then, so Bob got up and went over to the edge of the stage where she playfully squatted down to him for a five-dollar bill, and he said a few words to her. When her dance ended she put her little bra and g-string back on, and joined us at our table. She accepted an ice cold diet coke, and we each put ten dollars in her garter. When the song ended, she dutifully stripped off her top and g-string and as soon as the music restarted began her twelve minute nude private dance for us. She was sensuous, and I could tell she liked girls too. She bent over and wiggled her slit for each of us to admire from behind. Her pussy was so close to my face, it was all I could do to keep from licking it, but I managed to restrain myself. Bob caressed Natasha's pretty breasts for several minutes, and I thought Janie actually did lick her cunt once, but maybe I just imagined it.

After our diversion with Natasha, Bob said, "The reason I brought you here is that, assuming your auditions go fine, this is going to be the scene for the movie we have planned for you. In the movie you are going to be strippers, who take it a step further and wind up having sex with any customer in the house who wants to join in. It fulfills the ultimate pet fantasy of most if not all of the customers who enjoy coming to strip clubs. The sex can be on the stage, on the bar, on the floor, on a table, in a friction room, anywhere you want. The establishment normally opens at 11 AM and stays open till 2 AM. We have it rented from 4 AM to 9:30 AM on Friday morning. It's all ours during that time. We will set up a small stage and a pole in the studio, so you can practice your stripping and dancing techniques. I don't expect you to master getting upside down on the pole, because it's not easy, though you'd have to admit it would be an interesting position for being fucked, wouldn't it? In the movie, your actual dancing will be just to set the scene, like the pie-making scene you watched, and will be quite brief, say two minutes to strip, two minutes nude – then you can begin taking on the guys."

We got back to the hotel around quarter of eleven, took off our clothes and lounged around in just panties for awhile with the TV on. "Have you come up with a stage name yet?" I asked Janie.

"Yeah, I think I like 'Willow' How about you?

"Ta da, Willow, meet 'Cassandra'"

"Hey, not bad, I like it."

"Well, that's settled, then. Tomorrow we get to go through wardrobe; that ought to be fun. I can't even imagine the stuff they must have in their collection."

Soon we were sound asleep. I think I remember dreaming about being upside down and sliding my bare pussy slowly all the way down a lubricated five-hundred foot high brass pole.

Tuesday morning, Julio, who really was a peach, picked us up at nine AM and we were at the studio by 9:15. Grace, one of the older women who had been in the "Chef Jeff" audience, turned out to be the wardrobe mistress and gave us a little tour. There was a vast collection of wigs, every color and length, and different styles. There must have been two hundred at least. Then there were shoes, mostly high heels, three, four, and five inch "fuck-me"stilettos, every color, most in almost every common size, all neatly arranged in little cubbies. High heeled boots in suede, leather, vinyl. A selection of clear lucite stripper shoes like we had just seen in the club. We'd probably be wearing those in our movie.

Grace left us to enjoy and explore. We found miniskirts in every material – leather, denim, vinyl, even transparent vinyl. Tight pants, many also in leather and vinyl. A pair of translucent form-fitting vinyl pants with no crotch! High heeled thigh-high vinyl boots in shiny black, red, blue, and bright yellow. Vinyl above-the-elbow gloves in matching colors. Vinyl minidresses that rode right up your ass – great with no underwear. They were big on vinyl, no doubt. Tank tops, tube tops, rib tops, blouses, shirts, little black cocktail dresses, it went on and on. A naughty girl could only dream about a place like this.

Then there was the lingerie department. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Every manner of bra, minibras, pushup bras, lace, open nipple, transparent, black, red, blue, purple, nude, even Madonna-style bullet bras. Panties - bikinis, thongs, strings, lace, leather, see-through, crotchless, even edible. Bustiers, camisoles, teddies, garter belts, stockings of every color, a smorgasbord for the Kama Sutra. We'd have fun trying to choose from the sheer variety. We'd need outfits for our auditions, but not much for the stripper movie, probably just a little bra and a g-string, and of course the lucite platform shoes. A large selection of costume jewelry was also available.

I particularly liked the vinyl, just because it was so overtly and outrageously sexy, and I had never worn anything like it before, so for me it was also a novelty. I figured the studio liked it too, or they wouldn't have so much of it in wardrobe, and it wasn't hard to imagine DVD viewers liking it too. And besides, we weren't exactly trying to promulgate a girl-next-door image here anyway.

The auditions were tomorrow morning, so we needed to get busy now with the sex outfits. We each tried on a variety of arousing stuff, critiqued one another, and eventually were happy with our choices. We summoned Grace from her office down the hall and she gave us each lockers in a dressing room, where we stored our "costumes" and wrote down the locker combinations. We were to be here at 8:30 AM. We'd flip a coin in the morning to see who went first. Grace said that even for auditions professional make-up was available if we wanted it, and if we did, admonished us to be sure to be on time (as if anyone would show up late for an audition...) The first audition was scheduled for 10 AM, with the second one to immediately follow.

I asked Grace if we needed to see anyone else before tomorrow, and she said Mr. Davis wanted to see us before we left.

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Bob had just arrived back in his office from watching two other auditions, and he didn't look pleased. "What a waste of time that was," he groused. "Both of these girls could fuck all right, but neither of them is ever going anywhere in this business. The first one kept looking for the camera, despite our constantly reminding her not to. Absolutely no good. The second girl actually refused to allow anyone to cum in her mouth. Just closed her lips tight. Refused. Can you imagine? Wetold her what we needed to see. Who does she think she is? We stopped the audition right there. The second guy fucking her never even got to cum at all. She's outta here. Back to Iowa or wherever."

"Now, I presume you've got everything you need for tomorrow. It doesn't matter who goes first, you decide between you. Be on the set at 9:55 in full costume ready to shoot. Cameras roll at ten sharp. There's no dialog and no plot. We want to see improvisation. You each have half an hour. We'll let you know when your thirty minutes is up. If you run over slightly that's OK, but do whatever you have to do to finish up in the next five minutes. Be innovative. Surprise us. Believe me, the guys know what to do with a girl, but feel free to guide them any way you want. Talk to them. If either of you tanks your audition, the strip club production is a no-go for both of you, although the other girl may be offered something else. Remember this is not my decision alone. Five people have an equal say."