Striptease part 1

A couple of weeks ago, my Mistress described a scenario to me. She told me that I would visit a strip club, to watch the girls performing and ask for a private dance. I would be wearing masculine clothes, but with a bra and panties on underneath, just waiting to be discovered. She told me that I would be discovered, that the stripper notice the shape of my bra under my shirt, and so I would be revealed tothis beautiful goddess as the panty wearing sissy slut I am.

Doesn't that sound hot?

And then last week my Mistress told me actually go out and do it.

And doesn't that sound scary?

That's how I found myself in a stylish little strip club on Friday evening, still dressed in my suit from work but also wearing my sexy white panties with black dots and a black lacy trim and a white c-cup bra. There wasn't anything in the cups of the bra, but the line of them was still obvious to me under my shirt. I couldn't bring myself to believe that no one else would notice. But I had a task to do, and I had to complete it for my Mistress.

The first dancer to approach me was called Melissa. She was tall, almost as tall as me, blonde and tanned and dressed in a red cocktail dress. She also had clear five inch heels, like Cinderella's glass slippers except that Cinderella wouldn't have had a slit running up the side of her dress to her thigh. Very teasing, very provocative.

Melissa sat with me and we chatted for a while. It was the kind conversation you have with a hairdresser; so what do you do? do you work around here? any holiday plans? how did you hear of the club? All very straightforward and relaxing. That's relaxing except for my bra and panties, and the woman spinning upside-down on a pole three meters to my right, obviously. Those bits where distracting.

It is amazing, the athleticism in pole dancing. The sight is amazing in all sorts of ways, but oddly that was the thing that struck me first. Then I noticed how sexy the dancer was. Then I noticed how envious of her I was.

Melissa asked me if I'd been to a strip club before. I answered, truthfully, that no, I hadn't, so she explained that she could give me a private dance if I wanted. Did I want her to dance for me? Of course I did, and as my Mistress had told me to do, I agreed to the private dance.

She led me over to a corner of the club, set aside for private dances, sat me in a chair, stood between my legs, and began to dance. She moved her hips hypnotically, shrugging the red dress free to reveal her matching red panties and perfect pert breasts. She sank to her knees between my legs, running the line of her body against me, and settled back onto the floor to kick off her panties and show me every shaven inch of her. I didn't just want her, I wanted to be her.

Throughout her dance she kept leaning in close to me, bringing her body to touch me, and I kept thinking that this was it, she was about to feel the bra straps, the underwire, something that would give me away as a sissy. It's the only time I can remember wishing for a smaller cup-size. But she never touched my chest, and she finished her dance without discovering my secret.

Have you ever found that it can be as sexy watching a woman dress as undress? I do. I don't know if that's because of the way I am, or if it's that way for everyone, but watching Melissa shrug back into her sheer dress was just as sexy as watching her shrug it off before. I thanked her, paid her, and went back to finish my beer, my own panties still soft against my skin.