“Ladies and gentlemen,” the MC’s voice boomed through the Angel, “it’s time for our next act! You’ve had your appetites whetted - now for the main course. Fresh from the farm and oh so succulent, please welcome the prettiest little pig you ever did see, our Best in Show - the beautiful, beguiling, Babe!!”

The curtains parted, and a shapely, scantily-clad figure stepped out onto the stage. River strolled confidently along the gangway, swaying her hips to show off her butt to the watching, cheering crowd. Her micro-bikini left practically nothing to the imagination, the top barely covering her nipples, the bottoms little more than a string flossing her privates.

The only feature fully concealed was her face, over which she wore a bright pink pig mask. It wasn’t especially realistic - just a bog-standard piece of plastic with eyeholes cut out - but then it wasn’t really intended to be. It was meant to cover her face, to make it clear that it didn’t matter what it looked like, because the important parts of her were on show. It looked stupid and degrading. She loved it.

Reaching the circular stage at the end of the gangway, she promptly pirouetted and bent over, waving her ass to all those watching. She grinned at the whoops and applause, relishing her audience’s approval. Straightening up, she started to stroke up her sides with her hands as her body gyrated in time to the music, her performance beginning in earnest. The cheers and claps became background noise, her focus on the pulsing beat as she turned in slow circles, hands roving over her exposed flesh, her blissful smile hidden beneath her mask.

This was so much easier than her old job. She didn’t really need to think about it, or about anything at all. She could just let herself get lost in the rhythm, move in whatever way felt the most natural and sensual, and revel in how wonderful it felt to dance and display herself like this. It was almost the best feeling in the world.

She was a fuckpig. She was a piece of meat to be enjoyed. She was meant to show herself off, to flaunt her fuckable body. To make her audience stare, and salivate, and work themselves up imagining what it’d be like to use her for their pleasure.

Of course, she’d never know how much she was actually earning from this dance. Other strip clubs might have customers throwing bills onto the stage, but the Angel was a relatively classy establishment, and tippers had to put cash in two large jars on tables a little way in front of the stage, which were taken away and emptied between acts. River’s tips would then be given to her Owner, who usually watched her routine from the other end of the club, obscured from her view along with much of the crowd by the stage lights. He wasn’t there that night - he was out with Ellie and Mya, just as he had been almost every night for a week and a half - but he’d arranged for a club employee to bring the money to him later.

He’d been so supportive of her through this career change. She was so glad he’d been receptive to her idea of becoming a stripper, giving up her teaching job for something more appropriate for a low creature like her. He didn’t get jealous of all these people admiring her nearly-naked form. She quite liked that they weren’t a jealous couple - just as she didn’t mind standing and watching in the corner of their bedroom as he had sex with other women in their bed, she knew it didn’t upset him to know she was displaying her flesh to the Angel’s patrons. She was lucky he was so accepting of her fuckpig ways.

It might be because he was the one who actually got to use her - she might exhibit herself for random clubgoers, but it was him that took her home afterwards. Plus, all her earnings went to him, just as all her other money had gone to him. Yeah, that was probably a big selling point for him!

She continued her performance, with more pirouettes, more gyrating, and a few slut drops in the mix. She got down on the stage to demonstrate her flexibility, planting her palms behind her and her feet in front, before lifting her torso into an upwards planking pose, arching her back and spreading her legs. Plonking her butt down on the floor, she did the splits, and then raised her leg above her head, grabbing the back of her thigh to hold it up, to general uproarious appreciation. She wasn’t this pliant not so long ago, but the strict exercise routine Owner had put her on to keep her body ‘healthy, shapely and fuckable’ (as he put it) incorporated plenty of yoga, to get her used to stretching and spreading herself so she was the best cocksocket she could be.

Throughout all this, her pig mask stayed on. But at last, standing up again and turning on the spot as she continued to gently sway her hips to the beat, she removed it - slowly, seductively, teasing the onlookers with the reveal of her face, and the lewd expression decorating it, gazing out at her audience with parted, pouting lips and smouldering fuck-me eyes.

She handed the mask to a staff member standing by the podium, and they in turn gave her a long, ripe carrot, which she promptly added into her routine, tracing its tip over her skin, caressing up and down her body - down her inner thigh, between her legs, and back up between her tits, pulling the bikini taut, until it pinged off her nipples, fully unveiling them to her adoring fans.

Twirling the micro-bikini on her oustretched index finger before letting it drop to the stage, she bit off the end of the carrot with the side of her mouth, and then spat it into the audience. A man (at least she thought it was a man, though it was admittedly hard to tell in the gloom that shrouded the crowd) caught the chunk one-handed and popped it into his own mouth, to raucous laughter and cheering. River winked at him and then turned and twerked her rear in his direction, before breaking into another sultry dance, still wielding what remained of the carrot like a magic wand.

At last, her performance came to an end. As the MC encouraged the patrons to show their appreciation (not that they hadn’t been already) and to welcome the next act, River descended the steps on the side of the podium and integrated into the crowd, still making her movements as sensual and alluring as possible.

Collecting a tray of shots from the bar, she began to serve the club’s guests, easily switching from go-go dancer to topless waitress. Most of them barely spared her a second glance as she dutifully took their orders and handed them refreshments, their focus on the next act. That was perfectly understandable - after all, they’d seen her already. Why would they need to see her again? She was old news, already forgotten, just a part of the scenery now. And that notion - that she was only good enough for five minutes of fame before fading into the background, just one of the staff, unremarkable and unimportant other than to serve them drinks and snacks - made her tingle with pleasure. That was exactly how it should be. She got the occasional leer, though, someone glancing up at her bare, jiggling tits and licking their lips, or ogling her bum and making some indecent comment. Those rare instances of attention made her throb, her constantly simmering arousal spiking at every lecherous glance or unsolicited pickup line.

She was in the middle of serving a martini to a stunning older woman whose visits were becoming frequent enough to call her a regular, when she heard an astonished voice from behind her saying, “Brooke?!” She didn’t react at first, not registering that she was being spoken to, she’d grown so dissociated from the old name. But it finally clicked when the exclamation was repeated, and she turned with a frown - and stopped dead at the sight of a stocky young man with light brown, close-cropped hair and a look of shock on his face.

Oh, shit.

“Hi, Will,” she said nervously. “Nice to see you.”

She tried to leave it at that, to trot past him on her towering heels, but he moved into her path. “‘Nice to see you’?” he spluttered. “Seriously? Mate, what the hell are you doing here?!”

She arched an eyebrow. “What does it look like I’m doing here...?”

“You know what I mean. We were all - we were all really surprised when you quit, we couldn’t figure out what happened... We were all speculating about why you left, where you’d gone - some of us were asking around to see if you joined a different school - but - here? What - I don’t -”

“Will, I’ve got work to do,” she interrupted him, stepping around him and marching purposefully towards the bar. This time he let her go, too taken aback to follow, judging by the look on his face when she briefly glanced back at him.

Damn it. Damn it. Why did he have to show up here? Someone from her past, a colleague, a friend (though not a good enough friend to get her name right), turning up at her new work? This was a nightmare. What did she do about this? And she’d been having such a good night, as always, dancing for the crowd, feeling a hundred eyes on her, revelling in the exhibitionism and the debasement of her routine, so proud and so horny... and now Will had spoilt it. Why did he have to remind her of her old life, the life she happily, eagerly left behind...?

Gritting her teeth, she resumed her duties, concentrating on the job in hand. Five more minutes of being largely ignored by the guests, interspersed with three more crude remarks and wanton looks, improved her mood enough that she’d almost forgotten about her former coworker. Almost. She kept catching sight of him, standing among the audience, all their eyes on the girl onstage, but his never far from River. Unlike the perving from the other patrons, his appalled gaze was most unwelcome. She wished he’d just leave.

After a while, he seemed to - or so she thought, at least. At one point she dared to glance over at the spot where he’d been, but he was no longer there, nor was he anywhere near by. He’d vanished from the club floor, it seemed. Sighing with relief, she went to deliver another drink.

On her way back to the bar, a manager grabbed her by the arm (not common practice for the Angel, but River had made it clear the other staff could manhandle her as needed). “VIP room,” they told her. “Someone booked fifteen mins with you.” She scurried off without hesitation, so pleasantly surprised, as always, to have earned particular attention from one of the patrons, that it didn’t occur to her who her VIP might be until she was standing in the doorway staring at him.

She dithered, unsure what to do. She wanted to leave, but Will had paid for time with her. She had to obey the Angel’s rules - the only higher authority was her Owner. Groaning inwardly, she shifted her nonplussed look into a flirtatious smirk - an expression that came to her as naturally as breathing these days - and slowly swaggered towards him. “How d’you want it then, handsome?” she purred.

“What?” he spluttered, backing up a couple of steps.

She raised an eyebrow at him again, her smile unwavering. “Your dance. What d’you want to see from me? Or would you rather I freestyle it?”

“Whuh - no - Brooke, I didn’t - you think I want you to dance for me?”

“Of course.” She feigned a look of bafflement. “Why else would you book time in here with me?”

“To talk to you! You weren’t giving me the time of day out there, and I had to know what was going on with you. I had to talk to you in private.”

“Not much talking gets done in here, honey,” she said wryly, turning side-on and undulating her body once, bouncing her butt a little for him.

He gaped at her for a long moment, then seemed to force his eyes away, burying his face in his palm. “Stop. Stop this, Brooke...”

She suppressed a pulse of irritation, keeping her coquettish smile going. “It’s ‘Babe’ here. And I’m yours, for the next... twelve minutes. So c’mon, love. What do you want to see?”

“Stop talking like that. This isn’t who you are! I mean - you would never...!”

“Oh, come on,” she snapped, finally unable to hide her annoyance. “How would you know? No-one ever knows what’s going on behind closed doors. No-one knows what’s going on in someone else’s head. Everyone’s got their own thing, their own guilty pleasure. I’m just being true to mine, finally.”

“You would not quit the school to become a stripper,” Will insisted. “I don’t know what’s happening here, Brooke, but I know you well enough to know you just would not do that.”

“And yet, here I am. So I guess you don’t know me that well after all. I mean, you keep getting my name wrong, so that’s pretty clear.” She gave him a crooked grin, taking a few steps closer to him. “Besides - you’re not so innocent yourself, are you? If you’re here, I mean? You clearly didn’t come here looking for me - you came to enjoy the show. To look at girls like me.” She was inches away from him now, and he was backed right up against the wall, staring at her dumbstruck. “To savour the sight of our sexy bodies,” she continued, tracing a fingertip across her chest, from her collarbone down to her nipple. “To watch us dancing and stripping and flaunting ourselves, getting you so turned on, as you stare at our bare tits and get so so hard...” Her other hand slid up his thigh, palm running over his jeans, closer and closer to his crotch...

“Stop,” he blurted, scooting past her and stumbling away. Rolling her eyes, she turned to face him. “I - I don’t want -” he stammered. “You’re - you’re my friend. I don’t want to see you like this!”

“Oh, please,” she tutted. “Of course you do. You’re telling me a guy who goes to strip clubs never has any naughty thoughts about the cute young teacher working in the classroom next door? And I’ve seen you checking me out, when you think I’m not looking. You think you’re a lot more subtle than you actually are.”

“No. No, Brooke, I would never -”

“It’s fine,” River insisted, approaching him again, but with her hands up in a placatory gesture. Less seductive - more like she was coming towards a skittish horse. “I’m not judging. That’s what I’m here for! That’s what I live for - to be looked at, and lusted after. To be ogled, and objectified. It was what I really wanted all along. I was in completely the wrong line of work - I just want you to see that, mate!”

“You loved teaching,” Will said forlornly.

“I - I did,” she admitted. “That’s true. But it wasn’t right for me. It was too difficult, too stressful... This is where I’m meant to be. This is where I belong. I’m so much happier here. I just wish you could be happy for me.”

“I don’t, I just don’t think I can,” he sighed, shaking his head in defeated disbelief. “I just can’t accept this...”

River swallowed hard. There was nothing else for it - she had to win him over. She had to assuage his concerns, and also draw him in - make him a part of her new situation, in a way he couldn’t back out of. Make him see the positive side of her change of career, and make him complicit in her degradation at the same time. The solution was obvious - even though it went against the Angel’s policies... and it even risked upsetting Owner. Hopefully, she could earn his forgiveness later. He was always boasting of his supposed powers of persuasion - it was time to employ her own. And although he was indescribably wonderful, she did have a few assets that he lacked...

“We still have ten minutes left. Why don’t I give you a very exclusive show?” she purred, moving in close again and running her palms over Will’s chest. “A special, one-off routine, just for you, because we’re such good friends?”

He looked thunderstruck. “I - I -”

“Shh,” she soothed him, putting her hands on his shoulders and gently guiding him towards one of the velvety sofas up against the walls of the VIP lounge, pushing him down into the seat with minimal effort. She loomed over him, gazing down past her own cleavage, a knowing smirk on her face.

“I know what you want,” she said softly, gently swaying from side to side. “I know why you’re here, in this room with me now. You think you can save me. You’ve got it in your head that you’ll bring me to my senses, get me to leave this job... and then, once I realise how foolish I’ve been, maybe I’ll thank you. Reward you.”

“I - no, that -”

“It’s OK.” She gave him a smile that exuded genuine warmth. “I understand the desire to be my saviour, my white knight. But Will, my love, you can’t. I don’t want to leave, and you have to accept that.” She arched an eyebrow, her grin turning provocative again. “But that doesn’t mean you won’t get that ‘reward’. You can have it, right now.”

He said nothing, his mouth agape. But his eyes betrayed his desires, following her curves as her torso coiled back and forth like a snake.

“You can have me,” she continued, more urgently. “I know you want to. You can admit it, to me and to yourself. I wonder, how many times have you imagined it? How often have you thought about playing with these tits, squeezing this ass...” She caressed each as she mentioned them, and then slowly sank to her knees and inched between his legs, which parted unresistingly as he gawped down at her. “Fucking this face,” she added, pouting up at him.

Tentatively, she ran her hands up his thighs once again, inching towards his zipper. “Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me not to, and we’ll end this right now. This is your one opportunity - there won’t be another. Are you really gonna miss your chance with the girl you’ve been thinking about for four ye-?”

“Unzip me,” he blurted hoarsely, a look of shock at his own words seeming to cross his face as he said it.

Grinning triumphantly, River tugged down the zipper. His hard wood sprang free with very little encouragement, his moral scruples betrayed by his own body. Keeping eye contact with him, she slipped her lips over his tip and began to fervently minister to him.

He lasted longer than she’d expected, given how much she could tell she’d worked him up. Soon enough, though, he was spurting in her mouth, filling her gullet to the brim. She made sure to swallow every drop, and then lick his dick clean, like a good, diligent little fuckpig.

She’d grown very used to the taste of cum by now - her Owner’s, anyway. In the old days she didn’t think she liked it, but he’d thoroughly trained her to enjoy it through a great deal of exposure therapy, to the point where she was often hit by cravings for it. Even on days where she didn’t blow him, he still made sure to wank onto the contents of her food trough at least one mealtime per day. So she was very well acquainted with his flavour, even if sometimes it was mixed with the tastes and textures of other food.

Will tasted different. Less salty... quite sweet, actually. In fact - and she hated herself for even thinking it - he actually tasted better than Owner. Mind you, that was a good thing. A dirty animal like her didn’t deserve delicious cum all the time - Owner’s slightly more bitter seed suited her better. This was a one-off treat. Besides, Will’s cock didn’t have her clit attached to it, so Owner would always win in the end. Not that she didn’t find pleasure in sucking Will off - she found herself very turned on from the mere act, perhaps because she’d built up an association between giving oral and simultaneously receiving it from her own tongue. But her enjoyment wasn’t as important as Will’s. Her top priority right now was to satisfy and placate him.

And as she sat back on her haunches, she could see she had succeeded. Will lay against the back of the chair, gasping for breath, his softening shaft slumping against his jeans. “There, now,” she purred. “You got what you wanted. The old me would never have done anything like that, would she? You can see I’ve changed. And you can see this is where I belong.”

He gazed at her blearily, but said nothing.

“And you don’t need to tell anyone about this, do you? It can be our little secret.”

He nodded faintly.

She grinned knowingly as she swivelled round and got to her feet. More likely than not, this would have the opposite effect. First thing tomorrow, Will would probably tell as many other staff as he could about the career change ‘Brooke’ had made, and the special service she’d performed for him in private.

And that was exactly what she wanted.

Sure, many more of her former colleagues would likely flock to the Angel to see her perform with their own eyes. But none were likely to try and talk her into quitting and going back into education, after hearing what she’d done with Will. They’d know she had embraced life as a happy, depraved slut, with no chance of returning to civilised society, and leave her to dance for her punters in peace.

Glancing back at her ex-colleague one last time and blowing him a kiss, she strolled out of the VIP room, leaving him to tidy himself up and get out.

By the time she reached the main chamber of the Angel, River was barely thinking about Will any more. Her head was full of thoughts about how she could make amends to Owner, for giving someone else a blowjob without his permission. She thought maybe he could bury her in the garden again. That had been funny! She’d been so powerless and frightened, bound in earth with a plant pot covering her head, and he’d left her there all night long... She’d forgotten all about that for a while, until he’d reminded her recently. He’d seemed keen to do it again. He’d mentioned that the one thing he wished he’d done at the time was gather up a bunch of worms and slugs from around the garden and decorate her face with them - pour them into her hair, pop a few in her mouth, stick the slugs to her cheeks and forehead, shove one or two worms in her ears or up her nose...

The mental image of a worm halfway up her nostril, one half wriggling up her airway while the other writhed in mid-air, made her shiver in fear, disgust, and arousal. Oh, they had to do it now. It’d be so horrible for her, Owner was sure to love it and forgive her transgression.

Giggling to herself a little manically, she went to take more drink orders from the patrons, her exhibitionist strut in full effect. Though no-one spared her a look, the awareness of herself practically naked in this club, exposed for all to see if they wished to, thrilled her beyond measure. Will had been wrong about her - she could never go back to teaching, now she knew how it felt to live like this.

She wasn’t like normal girls. And she was so glad she’d stopped pretending to be.