The Pole Dancer

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December 2024 Change A Life Christmas Story Contest Entry

Naomi snuffed out her cigarette. She rarely took more than a few drags from one. She just liked holding it. And it allowed her to take breaks outside. She still had a few minutes on her break and she wasn’t going to waste a second of it even if it was a hot, sticky summer night.

How had she ended up here? It was a frequently recurring thought. No friends, no money, no prospects. She had thought being a stripper would get her all the money she needed to pay for her mother’s operation. It hadn’t. She was still in debt. And her mother had died a few months later. That was four years ago. She figured another three years working in this dive would get her to zero debt.

Then what?

Would she have to keep stripping? She’d be thirty-four by then. She had no job skills beyond pole dancing and stroking the male ego, and stroking other male things. At least, she wasn’t a total whore, she told herself. She’d never taken money to be penetrated. This also meant she hadn’t been penetrated in several years. Anyone who would ask her on a date would expect her to put out on the first date. And she wasn’t that kind of gal.

Pride?

She had to hold onto something given she had nothing else.

Her boss poked his head out the back door and she made it look like she had already been heading inside. He told her she was on next. She sat in front of a mirror and touched up her lip gloss and face paint. One had to look ridiculous to milk the most money from the simps who frequented the club.

Her music started and she scrambled on stage. She hit her first dance mark and went through her routine. Half of it was on the pole. One upside to being a pole dancer was fitness. Her core strength and stamina were at their peak these days. A handful of the patrons appreciated her abs. Though, she had avoid getting too hard of a hardbody. The other half of her stage show was shaking her boobs and butt in some guy’s face and for most of the patrons they had to sway and swing when she shook them.

She could do her routine in her sleep. Probably had a few times. Maybe more than a few. Many of the regulars were in their regular seats. The order she traversed the seats in front of the stage was somewhat fixed as well. She wanted to frequently visit the guys who liked to dole out the smaller bills slowly while visiting the guys who only would pay out once or twice less frequently. If she tried to hit up some of them too often they’d hold a grudge.

Who was that?

There were other unfamiliar faces out in the crowd that night, like any night. She didn’t pay attention until they demonstrated a penchant for giving her cash. But, this guy… This guy stood out. He was well-dressed. She guessed he was there for a bachelor party, although there weren’t any notices on the board backstage that they were expecting any big parties tonight. It was Wednesday. Why would there be a party in the middle of the week?

He was looking at her eyes. Usually that was creepy. This was the one place a woman has no reason to say, “My eyes are up here.” He didn’t look like a creep. He saw her checking him out. He approached one of the empty seats. As she drifted his direction he was holding a ten dollar bill. She’d expected he would try to be flashy with her and wave at least a fifty. A ten dollar bill usually meant there were more to come.

She’d already collected three tens from him when she came by again and he had no bill.

“Should I ask for a lapdance?” he said to her. It was loud enough to be heard over the music. The guys in the nearby seats probably couldn’t hear him, though.

“That’s up to you, Sugar,” she said with a Southern drawl. She couldn’t remember why she’d started her job here pretending to be from Kentucky. But, she’d kept it up ever since.

“I’ll consider it,” he said. “You aren’t from Kentucky.”

She almost stopped dancing. He hadn’t accused her of not being a Southern belle. He somehow knew she claimed to be from Kentucky. Had someone told him? None of the girls had been here long enough to remember where she’d said she was from when she first arrived. Well, Rita had been here. But, she was more of a recluse than Naomi.

“I’m not? A lapdance might be your chance to find out.”

“You got it.”

He walked away.

Her stage time was over shortly after that. She collected whatever bills were scattered across the stage and exited.

The back room coordinator, as Gus liked to be called, said she had a lap dance in room four. She quickly added a spritz of perfume to the nearly visible cloud of perfume orbiting her body and headed for room four.

“Hi, Naomi,” he said.

“Gus tell you my name?”

“Only your stage name.” He’d said another word. She couldn’t be sure but it had sounded like he’d said, “Mary.” Her actual name. How did this guy know her real name?

She gave him her best, ‘you’re a creep,’ look and said, “You don’t stop that I’m walking out of here.”

“Sorry. Please give me the rules talk so we can get started.”

“Sure.” She quickly went over the rules. He’s not allowed to touch her or his dick. She also can’t touch his dick. When she says it’s over, it’s over.

“Is there anything in that speech about water landings?”

She laughed. “I was told I was too tall to be a stewardess.” She started dancing. She sat on his lap facing him, rubbing her hands on his chest. He had a hard body. He must workout religiously, she thought.

“Turn around and lean back against me.”

“Oh, you want the grind.”

“Sure.”

She did as he’d said and started grinding her ass against his lap. He was getting hard. They always did.

“Do you like working here?”

“I think you know the answer.”

“If you could do anything for a living, what would you do?”

“You’re awfully chatty.”

“Do you have something better to do besides move your ass and answer some questions?”

“I suppose not. I’m not really qualified for much else.”

“Honest. Let’s pretend qualifications no longer matter.”

“Oh, I suppose I’d like to be a lawyer. Protecting people who have no protection.”

“Like from outrageous medical bills.”

“I… Please don’t do that.”

“What would you do if you found we’d switched places?”

“You aren’t sitting on my lap.”

“No, my mind would now be in your body; your mind now in mine. When the lap dance ended, you could just walk out the front door and live my life and I’d have your life.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Humor me. No longer a dancer, would you just quietly leave? Or, would you demand I fix it and put us back how we are now?”

“You aren’t a serial killer, right? You don’t owe the mob a lot of money, right?” The lap dance, for the most part, was over. She was simply sitting on his lap, turned sideways to face him.

“I am a clerk at a law firm, by coincidence. I’m working to get my law degree at night. I have a girlfriend who is amazing. I don’t have any debt. No one is trying to kill me to my knowledge. To you, perhaps a better life.”

“Then why would you switch. There’s always a catch.”

“The transference isn’t just a snap of the fingers.”

“Sex?”

“Just fellatio. I’d give you a few hundred for it. Of course, I’ll be giving that money to myself if it works, which I can see you still doubt.”

“You’re talking fantasy. The world doesn’t work like that. And even if this magical mind swap existed, you’d have no reason to do it with me.”

“I used to be a stripper, a pole dancer.”

“All the more reason you would never want to come back to this.”

“No, I don’t miss it. I’m paying it forward. Someone made this offer to me several years ago. I didn’t say no.”

“And you gave him a blow job.”

“I did. And his life wasn’t as put together as the one I’m offering you. He was still in college. He didn’t have a job or a girlfriend.”

She laughed. “That means you’re a guy who can say he’s had his own dick in his mouth.”

“And will again shortly if you like.”

“Tell me about your ‘amazing’ girlfriend. Why are you leaving her?”

“I’ll tell you only if you say yes and commence the blow job.”

“We aren’t allowed to do that here.”

“I paid Gus an extra hundred for himself. We have plenty of time.”

“How do you know Gus’ name?”

“I worked for Gus here when I was a dancer. Most of the old crew are long gone now I noticed. I only recognized Rita and Gus. Her name is Donna, by the way.”

He knows everything.

“Three hundred dollars?” She verified.

“That’s what I said. Get up and let’s do this.”

“Okay.” She got up and knelt down in front of him.

“Great.” He unzipped his pants. “Sasha, my girlfriend, is actually fully aware of what I’m doing. She doesn’t know the woman is you or that you’re work here. Nor does she know today is the day. But, she knows the day will come. She wants to be surprised, to see how long it takes her to figure out I’m no longer me.”

“She wants you gone?”

“We drifted apart a few months ago. She says she’s going to miss swapping with me when I’m gone. That’s enough licking. Get into it.”

She was still having trouble wrapping her head around this crazy guy’s delusion. But, three hundred for a blow was the most money a mouthful of cum had ever paid her.

“You swapped bodies with Sasha often?”

“Too often. Frankly, I missed being a woman. I was born a woman. And while being a guy is great, you’ll love it, I’d like to be the woman in a relationship again. And Sasha didn’t want to be a man full time either. She can’t do the body swap and you won’t be able to either. So, either you two will hit it off or you go your separate ways.”

“I’ll be stuck as a man.”

“There are worse fates. You could work here for another ten years until you have no choice but to become a hooker.”

“Isn’t that the fate you’re giving yourself?”

“I’ve set it up so that I will pay off your debt in a couple months from a windfall only I know about. And then I’ll figure it out from there. Gus won’t shed a tear when Naomi quits.”

“No, he won’t. Are you close?”

“Think of it as you’re close. Any last questions?” He put his hands on the back of her head to guide her final ministrations.

“No.”

“Good, I’m about to cum. Speed up a bit. Yes. Yes. I--.”

She closed her eyes. She felt his cock throb.

His cock was gone. Did he pull it out of her mouth? He better not cum on my face. She came. She felt the cum shoot out of her. She opened her eyes. Her arms were stretched out in front of her, large shocks of hair filled her hands. She was looking at her own face. Its mouth was wrapped around… her cock, draining the last of her cum. She was sitting on the sofa.

The woman’s body, her body, her former body was pressed up against her shins and knees. She opened her mouth to show… her... a mouthful of cum. She closed her mouth and reopened it to show she’d swallowed it. “How are you feeling, Sugar?”

He – he was now he, he realized – he stared at his former body as it stood up. She brushed bits of dust off the stockings covering her shins.

“Take a few moments to get used to it. You’re probably a little spent from that orgasm you just had. Pretty epic, right,” Naomi said.

It was her body, her old body speaking. Her accent was different. Was that a real Kentucky accent?

“That was great,” he said flatly.

“Sasha loves giving head. You’d better get going. She gets off work at the diner at midnight. You have about an hour before she gets home and finds you went out without telling her you’d be out. Not a good way to start off on the right foot.”

“You… I…”

“You are a terrible liar, Tim, if that’s your real name. I’m still me. And no mind swap happened,” the stripper’s body said. “Where’s my three hundred?” She then whispered, “Your wallet is in your left back pocket. Take it out. And put your dick away, too.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Three one hundred dollar bills were the only money in the bill fold. He pulled them out absentmindedly. He caught a glimpse of his driver’s license. His name was Kyle, not Tim.

Naomi snatched the three bills out of his hand. “Thank you, Darlin’. You best be on your way. You’re parked out the door to the right. The navigation system in the car will help you find your way home. The key with the square end is the key to your apartment. The apartment number is on your driver’s license.”

Naomi kissed him on the cheek. She left the back room.

Kyle sat there for a moment processing what just happened. He heard voices in the hallway. He tucked his dick into his pants as he stood up.

“Oh, I was told this room was empty,” Rita said. “You should get going, Sir.”

“Yes, sorry,” a man’s voice. He had a man’s voice. It had been the stranger’s voice. Now, it was his voice. “Sorry,” he repeated as he left. He stepped out of the back room area.

Naomi was on stage. Her routine was different, more dynamic. She was having a good time. It was a remarkable change from her earlier dances. Kyle could see the regulars were paying closer attention to this more engaged Naomi dancing on stage. If only they knew. Except, they probably wouldn’t even notice if someone told them. She has tits; she ain’t a guy, they’d say.

Kyle left the building through the front door for once. No, that was the expected way for him to leave. He turned to the right and looked at the parking lot containing five, no, six cars. He reached into his pocket and found the key fob to his car. He pressed the door lock button and one of the cars lit up and made noise. He got in the car.

This was the nicest car he ever had the privilege to be sitting behind the steering wheel of. He started the car with the ignition button. The AC kicked in immediately. Beads of sweat on his brow cooled instantly. The radio played softly. He pressed the button labeled voice on the display.

“Destination?” intoned the computer voice.

“Home.”

“Travel time estimated at twenty minutes. Provide turn by turn navigation?”

“Yes.”

“Drive five hundred feet and turn right.”

He took one last look at the bar. He knew he would never see it again.

* * *

Months had passed. A few weeks ago, Naomi had received an inheritance from a long lost aunt she’d never known to exist. Nor had she existed. The old Kyle had invented her. Her plan to date as a woman had very few opportunities that she felt were safe. So, she was waiting for just the right person to enter the club before she was going to quit her dancing career. She’d already applied to a college for the Fall semester.

He was here. When he gave her a few bucks, she said, “Ask for a lap dance, the Naomi Special. You’ll get a discount.”

It was an hour later that she entered the back room where the man waited. He’d had to wait for his friend to go home before ordering the private dance. She was a total pro at lap dances. She sat on his lap facing away from him. “You can hold my boobs.”

“I thought…”

She picked up his arms and placed his hands on her tits. “I want to ask you something. What would you do if we were to switch places?”

“You want me to sit on you?”

“No, not switching places with our bodies. Switch places with our minds. What if these were your boobs and I was in your body fondling them? Would you freak out and demand your body back? Or would you be intrigued to find out what being a woman was about? Is your current life better than learning about mine? I’m going to college in the fall, full time to be a lawyer.”

“I’m already a lawyer.” His playing with her breasts became less focused.

“What a coincidence. What would it be like to experience college as a woman? And you’d already know all the material?”

“I’d have to take the bar again.”

“A small price to pay. New experiences require risk. I bet you’re a gambling man. Maybe you could get out from under some pesky debt as well. And I haven’t told you the best part. To do the exchange, I have to give you a blowjob. If I’m out of my mind, you get a blowjob. But, what if I’m not crazy?”

Becoming a woman? Dodging his student loans? Not having that sketchy guy from the private poker game trying to blackmail him? A free blowjob? All these thoughts took root in his mind. Her ass grinding against his smothered cock was also creating thoughts.

“So? What do you say?”


Thanks for reading. As always, I encourage comments. Please, post anything you might like to say in the comment section below.

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Comments

Twisty!

Emma Anne Tate's picture

A little like the Switcher, I guess, but there’s a lot more involved in creating the swap. Interesting story, and for certain she is “changing lives!”

Emma

The Switcher?

I'm guessing you are referring to the universe of the same name? I had not encountered it until you pointed it out and I started a search. I've had this idea rolling around in my head for while. Just never figured out where to land the story. No new ideas probably applies.

Thanks for reading.

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