Page 1 of Shameful Addictions

Chapter one

Teeny bunny rabbit

Twoteenagedgirlsskippedonto the stage, their identical dresses illuminated by strobes of pink and red light. The girls could have been twins, with their long pale blonde hair and delicate bodies. Meeting in the middle of the stage, the two kissed and held onto each other. One lifted her leg and hooked it around the other girl’s waist, showing a flash of white panties with little pink hearts on them.

Charlotte put her hand to her own heart, feeling it flutter. The men in the audience shifted and murmured, clearly enjoying the sight of the two young women holding hands and pressing their plumped pink lips over each other’s faces. Their excitement wasn’t one she could join in on, or even understand. She felt like a woman watching a train wreck while all around her sadistic rubberneckers clapped and cheered for the disaster.

It was awful, absolutely terrible.

The girls held hands, facing a man who sat in the closest seat to the stage. They both smiled at him, for him, like they shared a secret. Turning together, still holding hands, the two girls skipped in a circle while their frilly dresses flounced around their forms. More was concealed than was shown, but it didn’t feel like that at all. Charlotte was seeing so much more than she wanted to.

The girls came together and hugged, pushing their bouncy boobies against each others’.

From behind them, another girl mounted the stage, wearing fluffy pink cat ears and a cat tail. She posed, facing the audience, hooking her hands beside her face to form paws. Whiskers had been painted on her cheeks using makeup, and the tip of her nose was pink. The cat-girl turned and posed in the other direction.

Oh, goodness, no.

Charlotte had thought the tail was some sort of belt. The end of it went right through a hole in the cat-girl’s skirt and panties. It was a butt plug.

“Damn,” a man muttered. “Yeah.”

Suddenly, confetti rained down upon the girls on the stage, reflective silver strips of paper that caught and shattered the pulsating light. The cat-girl jumped and pranced, pawing at the pieces of paper, while the identical teens kicked and danced through the fallen confetti like kids in a rain puddle.

Another shower of paper came after the first. Money, this time. The men in the audience were standing, throwing dollar bills onto the stage with abandon. Even in the low light, Charlotte saw the distinctive blue stripe of a $100. Ridiculous money. Ridiculous men.

A fourth girl pranced onto the scene, her dress composed almost entirely of frills and bows. She dove into the growing patch of money and tossed bills up into the air. The other three skipped around, flashing their panties while jumping up to catch the money, and bending over to pick it up off the ground.

Charlotte covered her eyes, unable to bear looking any longer at the spectacle in front of her. It was an absolute disgrace, what she was seeing, and she had no idea how anyone could tolerate it. Those girls were up there acting all cutesy and innocent while the men in the audience ogled their bodies, had sex with them with their eyes. Some were almost certainly taking pictures so they could repeatedly degrade those girls for as long and as often as they liked.

This is too much.

She shouldn’t be there. A respectable career woman like herself shouldn’t be in such a filthy, sexual place.

Unfortunately, she had no choice in the matter.

Charlotte stood up from her chair and left the stage area; out of the corner of her eye, she saw the cat-girl and the ribbon girl grinding their bodies together while the twins hiked up their skirts and flashed their panties again. She’d gotten out of there just in time, it seemed. The routine was getting too intense.

She staggered past the exit, the blessedly-dark exit. It took all of her self-control not to make a break for it. She kept going, working her way past a wall covered in photograph-worthy wall art. Unicorns and rabbits pranced around on the pink walls, beneath swooping rainbows and smiling suns. The name of the lounge, Club Lollipop, appeared in neon letters every few feet or so, as if she needed any reminding of where she was.

Charlotte found a table at the back of the lounge. The chair was a ridiculous thing, with pink fluff trimming on the edge of the seat cushion and the back. She grimaced as she sat down and put her head in her hands. An image of a bunny rabbit smiled up at her to reassure her everything would be okay.

None of this was okay.

Why on earth had Damian asked her to come cover this?

Charlotte had no idea how long she sat alone at that table, the bunny pulsing and flashing in front of her eyes. The cheerful music pumping in through the speakers dropped to a more acceptable level. Applause and cheers rang up to replace the music.

Seems like the routine is over,Charlotte thought.

A series of rapid clicking sounds came at her from the side. “Hi!” piped a chipper voice, in a very high and false manner. “I wanted to make sure you’re enjoying yourself.”

Charlotte lifted her head from her hands and looked over at the girl standing beside her. She almost fainted from shock. It was the cat-eared girl, the girl who had pranced around on the stage with a butt plug stuck between her pert ass cheeks for everyone to see. She had very big, bright blue eyes and silver-blonde hair. An ungodly amount of makeup caked her face. Charlotte could see where the cat-girl had reshaped her cheekbones and nose and chin, carving out new bone structure for herself using bronzer and highlighter. No doubt it was all meant to make her look much younger than she was, not that she was very old to begin with. If she was twenty, Charlotte would have been astonished.

The cat-girl made a funny meowing sound and tilted her head to the side. She brought her hands up under her chin, fingers curled to make them look like paws. “I really hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s what this is all about!”

“Is it?” Charlotte asked, still feeling a bit faint. She thought she’d be observing from afar but now she was talking to one of the main “stars.” That was, for her, the emotional equivalent of a meteorologist getting caught in a tornado.

“Yeah!” the girl squeaked in her high voice. “How can you not have fun? Meow! Maybe I can get you a drink.”

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