Get off Your Knees

Andy’s P.O.V
Pretty much all of my life had been centered around pleasing other people. I may have dressed a way that most people didn’t like, but my actions had still been for the better of other people. When my parents wanted a certain grade, I got that or better. When my friends wanted something done, but were too scared to do it themselves, I did it as long as my parents wouldn’t get mad. My whole life had been based off of what other people wanted, and even though I was out of high school, that was one thing that hadn’t changed.

You may think that getting a job at a strip club hadn’t been my smartest decision, but originally all I had been doing was serving drinks at the bar. I wasn’t one of the people doing dirty things on stage, even though I often got asked to give people lap dances, I was only there as a bartender. Many people that showed up however, didn’t think that should have been the end of my job description, especially since I still had to dress quite erotically. I guess enough men talked to my supervisor since one day, my job description didn’t only contain serving drinks.

“Andy,” my boss said to me after I had sat down in front of his desk, “The men that come here have told me that they think you should do more for your job, and I agree with them. You are a beautiful, young boy and it would just be a shame if your beauty was being wasted behind the bar.”

When I took the job, I told him that no matter what I would not get up on the stage and strip for people I didn’t know. To me, that was the lowest of the low. I wouldn’t degrade myself for money. There were many other places I could go for work, I didn’t need to lose my self-respect so I could have a job. I started to tell him this again, but he stopped me before my mouth was fully open.

“I’m not asking you to strip, and if you don’t want to do what I am going to ask you to do, you are free to quit.”

I nodded; at least I knew he was giving me the option. Sure I had the option either way, but this way he was pretty much letting me quit if I wanted to.

“Okay, what is it that you want me to do?”

“Well, I know you don’t want to strip, so it isn’t that, and really other than bartending, the only thing you can do is give lap dances or privately strip. I’m not asking you to do either of those.”

Good thing, I thought as I tried to put my heart rate back to normal. If you had asked me to, you would have never seen me around this place again.

“Andy,” he said putting his hands on top of the desk in front of him, “The only job that I can think of adding for you that isn’t stripping, but will make all of those other men happy too, is for you to give blowjobs and get paid for it.”

My eyes bulged. There was no way that I had heard him correctly. In no way was giving strangers blowjobs any better than stripping for them. I didn’t even see how he could think that it was appropriate to even ask that of me.

“By the look on your face, I can tell you don’t want the job.”

He sounded so fucking calm about what he was saying; that probably above else pissed me off the worst.

“You are a sick bastard!” I yelled, jumping up from my seat. “How is giving fucking blowjobs any better than stripping! Don’t even think about answering!”

My boss looked like he was going to say something, going to try to calm me down. At that point I was so disgusted, I knew whatever he said would do nothing to calm me.

“It is worse than stripping! Instead of just taking your clothes off and doing some dirty dancing, you are putting your lips around their dick to fucking pleasure them!”

He put his hands up in surrender. “I get it Andy! You can just stay as the bartender! Those men can go elsewhere!”

“Hell yes they will! I’m not going to stoop so low, not even to make someone else happy!”

I pushed away the thoughts and memories that were brought back by saying that. In the past, I had done some pretty low shit. Most of it had never reached my parents, meaning they had never been disappointed in me, so I counted myself lucky for that. If I did this, what would be the cost?

If I did it, I would be making a lot of people happy. My boss would be happy, strangers would be happy. Also if I did it, I thought it was safe to assume that I would be paid more money. More money in my pocket would make me happy. Then I thought about my relationship status and how hard it was to find someone when I was at work every night. If I did this, maybe I would be able to find a decent, non-freak, guy that I could have a decent relationship with. Now that would definitely make me happy.

Now, if I didn’t do it, I would never have to worry about my parents finding out. If they ever heard, they would not be happy. I would also make the place lose customers, my boss would not be happy about that, and I would not be getting any extra money. I was doing fine with what I the amount I was being paid now, but extra money never hurt anybody.

“Andy, like I told you, if you don’t want to do it, you can quit or you can keep your old job.”

I felt my earlier anger fall and my resolve start to crumble. “Would I be getting paid extra?”

My boss seemed surprised with my answer. “Of course. You would still get your old salary, since you would still be working that job, but you would also get paid for every customer you have in one day. One customer equals a little more than one strip, and I found out through other places that offer this, the guys usually tip.”

Quickly doing the math in my head, I pondered more pros and cons of the added job.

In the end, I decided to take it.