Becca XXX - Double Trouble Ch. 03

Authors note: - This is a follow on to the previous episode of Becca XXX Double Trouble. Please read it before reading this or you will not understand the plot or characters.

*

We walked arm in arm down the city street on our way to our made-up place of work. It was all part of the cover story that Lexa had set up for us. It was late morning and our shift started at twelve, ready for opening up to the lunch time boob-oglers. Saturday lunch time was going to be quiet compared to the evening shifts we'd previously worked, but it would still be fun.

The streets were busy with shoppers and people socialising. We'd decided to walk the six blocks from our apartment to the bar, rather than take the noisy, conspicuous Ducati's. Drawing attention to ourselves was fine when it counted, but today we were just two regular girls working in the city. We certainly didn't want to bump into the guys in the black Range Rover who'd tried to snatch us off the street.

Anyone watching us wouldn't even know we were the same girls from the street racing scene at the industrial estate and we wanted to keep it that way. We had taken the necessary precautions when we left our apartment and our security drills were now second nature to us.

I had picked up my bag and followed Natalie to the front door where I'd watched her take the wedge out of the door frame and place it on the table next to our biker helmets. She'd then checked the spyhole in the centre of the door to make sure the coast was clear in the corridor which led to our third-floor apartment.

After we'd entered the corridor and shut the door behind us, I wedged a small piece of paper in between the door and the door frame. It was almost impossible to see to the untrained eye, but it would tell us if anyone had been in our room while we were out at work. When the door was opened the paper-tell would fall onto the floor so if we came back home to find it missing, we'd know someone was in there. I liked surprises as much as the next person but I drew the line at coming home to find our apartment full of meatheads wanting to rape us or worse.

We had no idea who the guys were who had chased us only a few hours ago and our eyes were on the look out for them with every step we took. Maybe they had given up and gone home, hoping to pick us up at a later date or maybe they had lookouts working for them who would inform them if we were spotted on the streets. It may have been a one off and they were chancing their luck, but it was too much of a coincidence not to take it more seriously.

This is where the pressure and stress of the job took its toll on us. The fucking was the easy part compared to not knowing what was around the next corner. All I could do was to put it to the back of my mind and tell myself it was never going to happen. It was the only way to stay sane and not go running for cover every time I saw something suspicious out the corner of my eye.

We were dressed in jeans and T-shirts and were unrecognisable compared to what we'd been wearing the previous night. Our helmets had masked our faces, so how could anyone possibly know who we were? We were as safe as we could be under the circumstances.

****

The Voodoo bar was a very trendy looking establishment, hidden down a side street due to its function and the people it attracted. You could hardly have a seedy topless bar next to a McDonalds in the town centre.

It opened at twelve-thirty and we needed to be there half an hour early to get changed and prepare the bar for opening. The building was painted grey with dark purple window-frames and doors. Mirrored glass was used to prevent people from getting an eyeful of tit and going home with either a hard-on or a complaint. The neon sign above the window said 'Voodoo Bar' in bright purple writing which didn't light up until the place opened. As usual the front door was locked so we knocked and waited for the boss to open up.

We'd worked a few shifts here and we knew the routine, but the sign on the door still surprised me every time I read it. It stated that only adults over the age of eighteen were allowed in the bar due to the erotic attire of the waitresses. Most bars in most cities allowed children in as long as they were accompanied by an adult, but not his one. You could only come in if you were old enough to see girls with their tits hanging out.

There was a jangle of keys behind the mirrored glass, the door opened up and Big Al gestured for us to come inside with a flick of his head. He was a man of few words and his name seemed either ironic or a joke as he was very short and stocky. He hardly ever smiled and always seemed angry for some reason, maybe due to his size. He was one of those guys who had 'little man syndrome' and needed to over-exert his authority onto others, to try and prove what a big man he was. I could tell by his body language and the way he carried himself that he didn't take any shit from anyone and I guessed that being in the titty bar business he needed to be able to take care of himself and the girls who worked for him.

"You're both waitressing today, hurry up and get ready," he snapped.

"Good morning to you to Big Al," I smirked.

"Less of the back chat and get a fucking move on," he swore.

We walked into the bar and were hit with the familiar smell of stale beer and furniture polish. It didn't matter where you were, bars smelt the same the world over. The floor was carpeted in the main seating area and had laminate flooring around the bar area to make spills easier to clean up. It didn't matter how hard the floor was scrubbed it still felt sticky when we walked on it.

The bar was traditional wood with a brass kick bar at ankle level which had been battered over time. It was still shiny but worn away with years of people resting their feet on it while they waited to be served. The wooden top was equally worn and must have had a thousand layers of polish on it.

There were the usual pumps for draught beer and a line of low fridges behind, for bottled beers and imports. The optics rail was full of whiskey, rum, tequila and the other popular spirits just waiting to be consumed by the local pissheads from around the town. A large television screen was above the bar which usually played sports, but today it was set on the news channel spouting more crap about the elections.

The clientele seemed to range from barely legal lads wanting to see a girl's breasts for the first time all the way up to retired old pervs who hadn't seen a pair for a while. It didn't matter about their ages, they all had that look about them where their gaze barely got above chest height when they spoke to you.

The seating area consisted of the usual tables and chairs laid out in twos and fours in the centre of the room and there were booths around the edges. All the tables had a set of beer mats on them emblazoned with the Voodoo logo in case you forgot where you were. The signs on the wall were spaced a few metres apart making sure people knew what the rules were.

You are more than welcome to look at our topless waitresses but touching is strictly prohibited. Anyone found to be interfering with the staff will be asked to leave and will be barred for life.

The rules were the same as those in strip clubs and lap dancing bars and were usually enforced by a couple of bouncers during the evening but not during the day. It was quieter at lunch time and I guessed the clientele were more polite and less drunk than the night time revellers.

We continued past the bar and down a small corridor which led to three doors. One was the lady's room which seemed pointless as I'd never seen a woman in the place and the other was the men's room which always smelt of piss. The final door said 'Staff only' and we followed Big Al through it and into a smaller corridor.

There was a fire exit straight ahead in case of emergencies and a door on either side of it. Our locker room was on the right and Big Al's office was on the left.

He went inside leaving his door open and left us to get ready for work without saying another word.

We walked into the tiny locker room that was barely big enough to bend over in. In fact, it was so small we had to wait for two other girls to come out before we could get in there. They were already topless and wearing their Voodoo uniforms, ready for work. Their names were Nicole and Tara and they were very hot to say the least. Big Al only hired good looking girls with nice figures and big boobs. We were merely here to look nice and attract people in to spend money at the bar. We were just a commodity to him.

"Morning girls," said Nat.

"Morning. Just another day in paradise," said Nicole.

We all tittered like school girls much to the disgust of Big Al.

"Less chat. More work," he chastised.

We all rolled our eyes at each other before Nat and I went into the locker room to put our uniforms on. We closed the door behind us to stop Big Al watching us get changed. The door had a panel of mirrored glass in the top section so we could see out but he couldn't see in. Our uniform didn't consist of a lot of material, it was just a pair of skimpy satin black shorts which exposed the bottom of our bum cheeks and a pair of black ankle boots. We were here to show as much flesh as possible as far as Big Al was concerned.

We slipped our jeans and T-Shirts off and threw them in our bags before slipping the shorts and boots on. Our shorts had our names embroidered onto the back in purple writing so clients would know who had served them. In a normal bar the waitresses would wear a name badge on their shirt, but we weren't wearing a shirt so Big Al had improvised. I let my head fall forward and I plumped my hair up to give it more body and I was ready to go.

We walked back out to see Big Al for the final part of our uniform which the pervert seemed to enjoy the most. He had a can of water-based spray paint in his hand and stick-on stencil.

"Who's first?" he snapped.

Nicole stepped forward and leaned back to expose her midriff and make her belly go taught. Big Al was so short his head was at the same level as her breasts which seemed to please him. He stuck the stencil onto the left side of her belly and sprayed purple paint onto her skin. As he slowly peeled the stencil away, I saw the familiar slogan which we had to wear. As we had very little clothing on, this was the only place he could put it.

The slogan read: -

Enjoy our tits.

Please leave tips XX

Nicole pushed her breasts together so that her boss could stick his face in between them and jiggle his head from side to side. It was the only time he seemed to smile and this ritual took place every time we worked here. Nicole looked bored with the whole proceedings and as she turned, she got a slap on the ass from Big Al.

"Next," he said, licking his lips like some sort of lizard.

Natalie was next and after being painted she too had her breasts motorboated as she tittered in her girlish laugh. She seemed to quite enjoy it.

I was next and having cold paint sprayed onto my perfect abs made my nipples hard.

"Someone's excited," smirked Big Al.

I squeezed my tits together and felt his greasy face rub all over my cleavage. He smelt of cigarettes and stale booze as though he hadn't washed properly that morning. I was slapped on the ass and then he finished off his morning's fetish with Tara.

She couldn't wait to get away from him and we were all about to go about our work duties when he called her back.

"Tara, I need to speak to you, come back over here," he said sternly.

"He's such a fucking perv," she said to me under her breath as she went over to him. "He gives me the creeps."

I set about cleaning glasses, but I stayed close by to see what he wanted.

"You asked for a pay rise, right?" he said, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. I've been here nearly a year and I could do with the extra cash," she said softly.

"What do you do here, that the rest of my girls don't?" he asked.

"I don't understand the question," she puzzled.

"That's hardly surprising, you dumb sluts are only good for one thing and being clever isn't it," he chuckled getting off on the power trip. "What makes you different from the other girls who haven't asked for a pay rise?" he rephrased the question.

"Nothing... it's just.... I've been here longer...." she stammered.

She seemed frightened of him and I could see why. He preyed on young naïve girls who weren't that bright and just used them to make a living.

"Listen bitch, I've got girls queuing up to work here, I can replace your swinging tits in a heartbeat so unless you're offering something extra there's no chance of a pay rise."

"What more can I do?" she asked, not really understanding where he was heading with this.

I'd seen dirty fuckers like him many times and I knew exactly what he was getting at.

"There's more than one way to make money," he said, giving her a once over and leering at her tits.

"What do you mean?" she said with a dumb look on her face.

'How could anyone be that stupid' I wondered to myself.

"Have I got to spell it out to you?" said Big Al.

He reached down, undid his zipper and got his cock out. I suddenly realised why he was called Big Al; his cock was huge and it wasn't even hard.

Tara looked down at it with her eyes popping out of her head.

"I... oh my god.... I don't want...." she was lost for words.

"Look you can either get on your knees and suck me off or drop your shorts and back up onto it. I don't mind which, but it's the only way you're going to get any more money from me," he smiled. "As an extra treat, if you let me fuck you, I'll even let you keep what I shoot inside your sweet little cock pocket."

She seemed outraged by his proposal and stormed off towards the table area.

I looked over at Big Al who still had his dick in his hand. He was nursing a semi by now, probably getting aroused at scaring the poor girl.

"Same offer goes to you, you nosey little bitch," he snapped, pulling his foreskin back and slapping his purple tip into his spare hand like a truncheon. "Get back to work."

He walked back into his office still chuckling to himself.

I went straight over to Tara and stroked her back trying to comfort her.

"I heard all of that, you can report him to the police for sexual harassment you know," I said to her.

"Fucking dirty cunt," she spat. "I can't report him, I need this job. I'm broke."

She wiped her bleary eyes as she was close to tears but she managed to compose herself.

"Something will come up Tara, but don't lower yourself to his level. I can't think of anything worse than letting that dirty bastard fuck me," I lied.

He may have been a short ugly fucker but his cock looked very fulfilling.

"I know, but I really need the money and he knows it."

"What's happened?" asked Nicole, coming over to see what all the fuss was about.

"The dirty fuckers asked Tara to let him fuck her for extra cash," I said.

"Eeewwww fuck no. What a pig," she screwed up her face and looked over to the office to make sure he hadn't heard her.

"I'm not going to do it," replied Tara. "He makes me feel sick."

"He's just a dirty old man trying to get his rocks off," said Nicole. "I don't even want to think about him sweating away on top of me with his cock shoved in my snatch."

"I only asked him for a pay rise. The tight cunt pays us fuck all as it is," grumbled Tara. "I've been leered at in this shit hole for the last twelve months, making him money, the least he can do is pay us a decent wage."

"Unfortunately, it's not classed as skilled work so he only has to pay minimum wage," I pointed out.

"I know. I'll find another way. There's no way I'm opening my legs to that fat ungrateful cunt," she sniffed. "Come on we need to open up before he comes out here complaining again."

I could tell she was lying, but it was her decision to make, not mine. She walked over and unlocked the front door and switched the neon sign on to let people know we were open to be stared at. It wasn't long before the lunch time rush began. A lot of the guys seemed to be single and on their own but there were soon groups of two or three men sitting at tables waiting to ogle at the topless waitresses.

Walking around bare chested never bothered me. I'd worked as an undercover hooker in the past so this was nothing to me and I knew Nat felt the same way. The single guys seemed to be a little shy and were taking sneaky peeks at our breasts when they thought we weren't looking. Maybe they were virgins who had never managed pluck up the courage to fuck a girl. I guessed everyone had their demons. They weren't going to be any trouble but not much fun either. The tables with groups of men together were going to be more of a handful, but equally I could have some fun with them.

I started with a single guy on his own and put on my best smile as I approached his table. He was pretending to read the drinks menu when I arrived so I thought I'd flirt with him to speed up the process.

"Hey there sexy, I'm Becca and I'll be your waitress today. Do you see anything you like?" I said giving it a double meaning just as Big Al had told us to.

He glanced up at my tits and didn't even look at my face.

"I'm still trying to decide," he said nervously.

"What are you in the mood for?"

He looked back at the drinks menu as though he didn't know what he wanted; he must have been the shyest man I'd ever met. He had one hand in his lap and the other scanning the menu. His shoulders were hunched up and his head was held low. It was a classic posture of a timid guy who had probably never lost his virginity apart from to his own hand.

"How about a beer and a shot?" I asked.

"Where are the shots?" he asked turning the pages in the wrong direction, clumsily.

I leaned down so my tits were almost touching his face and I showed him the right page. He glanced at my chest and gulped, probably never having a pair of naked breasts so close to his head in his life. His hand in his lap seemed to be squeezing his crotch like some sort of comforting reaction to an uncomfortable situation.

"Vodka, rum, whiskey and tequila are our most popular shots," I explained pointing them out on the menu.

"Oh... err... ummmph.... I don't know..... uhm... ... err..... sorry..... I think I need to leave," he spluttered.

He suddenly got up and pushed past me holding his crotch. He was bright red and embarrassed and I suddenly realised what he'd done.

He'd just ejaculated in his trousers.

It must have been the fact I was standing so close to him that had triggered him off and I felt instantly sorry for him. He bustled out of the door and into the street before breaking into a fast walk to escape the embarrassment.

Natalie came over to see what the commotion was all about.

"What the fuck happened to him?" she quizzed.

"I'm not sure, I leaned over to show him the menu and he shot his load in his shorts," I said.

"What? No way," she giggled. "That must be a new record for you babe."

"Awww don't laugh, it must be terrible to be that premature," I cooed.

"He must have some sort of radar down there," she continued to mock him. "If someones tits get too close, to him, he erupts in his shorts."

I was about to tell her off when the group behind me shouted over.

"Miss, can we get some service over here please?" said one of the young men.

"Sorry guys," I apologised walking over to their table.

There were three of them in their late teens or early twenties and they were obviously just there to look at tits all afternoon.

"I'm Becca and I'll be your waitress today," I said my lines. "Do you see anything you fancy?"

"Yeah, but we better have a drink first," laughed one of them.