Stripped

by Mia Archer

  Stripped

  Mia Archer

  Contents

  Stripped

  1. Taylor

  2. Jasmine

  3. Taylor

  4. Jasmine

  5. Taylor

  6. Jasmine

  7. Taylor

  8. Jasmine

  9. Taylor

  10. Jasmine

  11. Taylor

  12. Jasmine

  13. Taylor

  14. Jasmine

  15. Taylor

  16. Jasmine

  17. Taylor

  18. Jasmine

  19. Taylor

  20. Jasmine

  21. Taylor

  22. Jasmine

  Want More?

  Also by Mia Archer

  Secret Lover

  1. Keri

  2. Ashley

  3. Keri

  4. Ashley

  5. Keri

  6. Keri

  Want More?

  Also by Mia Archer

  Stripped

  Stripped

  By Mia Archer

  Copyright 2017 Mia Archer

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Individuals pictured on the cover are models and used for illustrative purposes only.

  First digital edition electronically published by Mia Archer, January 2017

  Let your fantasies come true with Mia Archer…

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  Created with Vellum

  1

  Taylor

  "I'm sorry, but I just can't help you store client credit card information in the database. It's plaintext. It wasn't designed for that sort of thing," I said.

  I paused and waited for the tirade. Sure enough it came. Old Beth on the other end of the line was notorious for not taking no for an answer, even when that “no” was backed up by law. I let her finish her griping and took a deep breath.

  There were times when I took a lot of deep breaths on this job. There were even times when I snuck a drink from the bottle in my top drawer that totally didn't have any alcohol in it as far as my boss was concerned.

  “You can complain to my supervisor all you want," I said, trying to sound patient and mask the sound of grinding teeth. "But that doesn't change the fact that I’d be assisting you in violating a bunch of laws about consumer privacy and data protection, and I'm not going to do that."

  More griping. More ranting. It finally got to me.

  "Why am I not going to help you do it? Because your stupidity isn't worth my job," I said.

  I reached out and hit the switch that ended the call. I winced as I did it. There would be a complaint about that, but one of the joys of working support for such a small software company was my boss had my back.

  Most of the time.

  The clients were irritating, but we had the ability to talk back to them which was more than I could say for other tech support jobs I'd worked.

  "That sounded like another call with Beth," a voice said from behind me.

  I looked at the call board. There wasn't much coming in right now. We were blessedly quiet except for Beth and her stupidity. I sighed. It seemed like she came up with new ways to skirt the law with our software almost every other week, but it wasn't my job to talk her out of it. Only to refuse to help her and document after the fact.

  "Just more of the same," I said.

  "You look like you could use a drink," Dan said.

  I held up a hand and shook my head. "Not a chance. I'm not going out for one of your working lunches. The last time I did that I came back in so shitfaced that that I couldn't think straight for the rest of the shift."

  "How is that any different from any other shift you work?" Dan asked.

  I flipped him the bird. It was a good-natured bird flipping though. Ribbing each other was one of the few things that kept me sane while working this job.

  "Anyway," he continued, ignoring my middle finger. "I wasn’t talking about going out for a working lunch. I was thinking more about Stephen’s bachelor party."

  I cocked an eyebrow. "And what on earth makes you think I’d want to be in on a bachelor party?"

  Dan shrugged. "Come on Taylor. You're one of the guys!"

  I crossed my arms under my chest and spun my chair back and forth. I did that when I was trying to buy time.

  They might think I was one of the guys, but I didn't really want to go out with the guys. Not that there was anything wrong with the guys, but there were times when I objected to being automatically included as one of "the guys" just because I happened to be into the ladies.

  I mean it was nice that they accepted me, but men could be such pigs. And they seemed to have no problem letting that flag wave high and proud when I was around.

  "It's nothing major," Dan said. "A nice low-key affair."

  "A low-key affair? Like the time you guys got so drunk Ronald almost didn't make it to his wedding?"

  "Yeah! A lot more low-key than that!" Dan said. "Man that was a good time. You don't know what you were missing!"

  My lips compressed to a thin frown. I had a pretty good idea of exactly what I'd been missing at that particular outing. They'd told me all about it trying to convince me what a good time I'd missed after the fact, and I decided it was probably a good thing I didn't end up going out that night.

  "Sorry," I said. "I'm not interested in going out on a drunken night with the guys where you make questionable decisions and try to convince the groom to have one final fling a week before he's supposed to get married."

  "We’re not going to do anything like that," Dan said. "Sure we might buy him a lap dance or something, but that's it. Promise! You don't even have to get one if you don't want, but there will be plenty of scenery…"

  I held a hand up. "Hold on a second. Back that up just a little. Lap dance?"

  "Well yeah," Dan said. "I mean if we’re taking Stephen to…"

  "A strip club?" I finished for him. "You're taking Stephen into a strip club for his bachelor party and you're trying to tell me things won't get out of hand?"

  "Well I didn't say things won't get out of hand," Dan said. "I just said we'd be able to keep it under control. That it wouldn't be as bad as Ronald's shindig.”

  "I told you about this before damn it," I said. “Just because I'm into girls doesn't mean…"

  This time Dan was the one who held up a hand. His next words came out in a singsong voice as though he was repeating something he'd heard plenty of times before. Which was absolutely true.

  "It doesn't mean you’re into going out and treating women like pieces of meat like we do.”

  He paused for a moment to grin at her. Drive home exactly how many times he’d heard that. Then he went right on.

  “Come on though Taylor," he said. "It's Stephen's bachelor party. You know you want to see what he's like when he’s had a little too much."

  I pursed my lips. Dan had a point there. He knew me well, and it frustrated me that he knew me so well. That he knew exactly what would get me out to a strip club.

  And let me tell you it would take a lot to get me out to one. I'd been dragged to them a few times before and they always struck me as sad affairs. I even dated a girl in college who tried to convince me that strip clubs were somehow liberating for women, but there'd been nothing liberating about seeing women dancing for a few bucks from sad defeated looking older men and drunken younger guys who were constantly skirting the line of getting tossed out on their ass by a bouncer.

  Granted that was a little judgmental on my part, but I c
ouldn't help feeling the way I felt about my one experience at a strip club. It wasn't an experience I was keen on repeating, let me tell you.

  “Tempting,” I said. "But no. Not a chance."

  "What are we talking about here?" another voice chimed in unseen from over my cubicle wall.

  Stephen appeared looking over the edge of the cubicle. I sighed and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. It was like the two of them were working together. Which was probably true.

  "You're coming to my party tonight," Stephen said. "Right Taylor? It wouldn't be the same without you."

  "That's not my thing," I said. "Sorry. You have a good time though."

  "But how can I have a good time without my best work buddy there to have fun with me?" Stephen asked.

  “That's not playing fair," I said.

  "Come on," Stephen persisted. "You know you want to see what happens when you get me in one of those places. Get a few drinks in me?”

  "It's going to be awesome man!" Dan said.

  I glanced over my shoulder to my computer. Willed someone to call in. I'd even take another call from Beth yelling at me for hanging up on her earlier, but there was nothing.

  Of course. The one time I wanted a call to come in was the one time I got nothing. Perfect."

  It's not that I was against having a good time. It's just that I tried very hard not to slip into the same cycle some of the other guys had slipped into. They all enjoyed their drinking a little too much. All but Stephen, that is, and it looked like they were going to corrupt him tonight.

  I might have a little nip once in a while after a difficult customer, but I didn't put the fun in functional alcoholism like some of the other guys I worked with. And I wasn't in any mood to start.

  I especially wasn’t in the mood to start at a place where they’d all be looking and wondering if I was getting lap dance because it’d be “totally hot.” There was nothing more annoying than having your sexuality and identity turned into a party favor for a bunch of horny straight boys who had the hots for the lone girl in the department.

  "Listen," I started, but Stephen brought me up short.

  "Please Taylor?"

  He looked down at me with a pair of puppy dog eyes that were difficult to resist. I shook my head and growled.

  "You guys need to get back to work," I said.

  Neither made a move. Both of them still had stupid grins plastered on their faces. Stupid grins that I knew weren't going to disappear until I agreed to go out with them.

  "Will you leave me alone if I say I'll think about it?" I asked.

  Both of them looked at each other. Both of them looked back at me. Both of them shook their heads in unison. It would’ve been kind of creepy if I wasn't pretty sure they’d practiced that move knowing exactly how I was going to react to their invitation.

  “Fine," I growled. "If it’ll get you guys off my back and if it means that much to you Stephen then I'll go for a little while. But you guys aren't going to try and get me drunk and you aren’t going to buy me a lap dance!"

  "Oh no," Dan said. "Wouldn't dream of it. Would you Stephen?"

  "What are you talking about?" Stephen asked, doing his best to look innocent and not doing a very good job of it. "This is my party! You're the one who’s supposed to be buying lap dances for me, remember?"

  "Quite right," Dan said.

  Dan gave me a thumbs up. I responded with a raised middle finger again. They’d won the battle, but I had no intention of staying out with them for too long tonight.

  "You wound me," Dan said. "But I can't wait until tonight. It's going to be awesome!"

  “Says you," I replied. "And I’m serious. No lap dances!"

  Dan held both hands up and looked injured. As though he couldn't believe I was accusing him of anything of the sort.

  "Of course not. I wouldn't dream of using your sexuality as an excuse to try and get some girl on girl action going in the strip club."

  The fact that he even said it meant he’d considered it, but I decided not to dig into that particular line of reasoning. Instead I turned around and started clicking on my computer and pretending to work.

  Eventually I heard them step away. And as I worked I tried to look on the bright side.

  Sure I was being dragged to a strip club which wasn't my favorite place in the world, and I was going to be hanging out with the guys at work while they were drinking, which wasn't the best place to be, but it’d be fun to watch Stephen getting drunk. I'd never seen that before and it was sure to be worth the trip.

  Yeah, maybe tonight wouldn't be all that bad after all. Maybe. I had a hard time convincing myself though.

  “So when were you going to tell her Jason is coming along?” Stephen asked.

  I popped up and looked over the edge of my cubicle. My eyes narrowed and I glared so hard at Dan that he had to know I wasn’t happy. He turned around and shrugged. Hit me with a big grin.

  Damn it. Maybe tonight was going to be just as bad as I thought it’d be.

  2

  Jasmine

  I looked all over the small desk in front of my mirror.

  "Where's my goddamn glitter?" I yelled loud enough to be heard even over the radio playing in the background.

  All the girls turned and looked at me. I felt bad for screaming, but I was supposed to be on stage in a few minutes and I couldn't find my glitter. There was only one reason why it would be missing.

  Tara. The bitch.

  "Come on," I said. "Somebody tell me what she did with it and nobody has to get hurt."

  Everybody looked at me for the space of another second and then they started giggling and laughing. I'd just done a pretty spot on impression of Tara if I do say so myself. The girl could be ridiculous. As though threatening people in the changing room would actually get her what she wanted.

  "Did you check on her table?" Tiffany asked.

  "I guess that makes sense," I said.

  I walked over and sure enough there was my glitter lotion. The nice expensive stuff that I got from the nice expensive store. Probably overkill for this place, but I like to think that I could take a little bit of professional pride in what I did.

  Even if "what I did" was taking my clothes off for money.

  "I'm going to kill her," I said.

  Just to be sure I picked up the glitter lotion and looked at the underside. Sure enough there was my name in permanent marker. A necessity in a dressing room that was home to a raging bitch with sticky fingers.

  It looked like she’d even tried to scratch my name off when she realized it was there in permanent marker.

  If you didn't put your name on something back here you were as good as asking for it to be stolen. Especially with Tara.

  "What the hell are you doing at my table?" A voice rang out from across the changing room.

  I didn't answer her in so many words. I simply spun around to the entrance and held up my glitter lotion. In particular I held it up so the bottom was visible to everyone.

  There were a few catcalls and shouts. She'd been caught fair and square, and everyone in the the room knew it. It was always fun to catch somebody stealing, but especially so when it was Tara.

  She shrugged and sniffed. "I don't know how that got there."

  "I'm sure it was an accident," I said, my tone flat.

  I wanted it to be absolutely clear that I didn't believe for a moment that it was an accident, but I also didn't have time to start a fight.

  "How is it out there?" Carrie asked.

  Tara shrugged. "Not that good. There are a couple of business people from out of town, but other than that it's pretty dead."

  "Great," Tiffany said with a roll of her eyes. "It's a Friday night. Aren't we supposed to be busy?"

  "Give it time," I said. “It's still early. Who knows? We might get a big party or something."

  "Yeah, and maybe a nice hot sugar daddy will come in tonight!" Carrie said, drumming her heels on the floor as she grinned and laughed.


  I rolled my eyes. "If that's your retirement plan then you're in for a disappointment," I said.

  Carrie jutted her lip out. "You don't have to be a jerk about it dashing my dreams."

  I sighed but didn't respond. We'd been over this time and time again. If her dream was finding some guy to sweep her off her feet in a Pretty Woman scenario that was her business. I wasn't going to tell her that her dream was stupid.

  Not again at least. Not tonight. I didn't want to waste the breath.

  I went back to my mirror and started putting on my glitter lotion, and as I looked at myself in the mirror I sighed again. Only this time it didn't have anything to do with Carrie and her crazy dreams. It had everything to do with how crabby I felt tonight.

  And it didn't really have anything to do with Tara trying to steal some of my good stuff. No, I was pissed off at how pissy I was acting. It wasn't fair to take out my irritation on the girls. Irritation at where I was. At what I was doing.

  It's not like I minded the work. It's not like I was ashamed of my job. Not exactly. It's just back in school when you have the conversation about what you want to be when you grow up, well let's just say that being a stripper usually isn’t part of that conversation.

  Of course I could tell myself I was just working to put a roof over my head while I was going through school. Yeah, that turned me into a walking cliché. Even if it was true.

  "Any cute guys out there tonight?" Tiffany asked.

  Tara let out a disgusted noise that was all the answer we needed, but that didn't stop her from launching into a complaint.

  "Are you seriously asking if there are cute guys out there?" she asked. "At this place?"

  "You never know," Tiffany said. “Hell could freeze over."

  "Yeah well hell is still nice and warm and sunny tonight," Tara replied.

  I kept my thoughts to myself. I wasn't going to ask the obvious question. Not with Tara in the room. My sexuality wasn't something I was ashamed of, but not feeling shame over it didn't mean Tara wouldn't try to use it as a weapon in her never ending war against me.