Amanda gives a rousing, enthusiastic perfomance (for an clumsy clueless amateur)

Amanda kept the rose between her teeth, thorns pressing into her gums as she sauntered to the stage. She recognized the beginning of a tune by some teen pop princess who dressed like a whore, and came onto the stage in her best innocent girl fashion. She fluttered her eyelashes at the crowd, clasped her hands behind her and twined her feet like a shy schoolgirl.

The outfit and setting told them otherwise, and soon enough her actions did too. Amanda always had a high opinion of herself in just about every way. With her superiority complex it was probably why her friends hated her and delighted in setting her up. As she went out onto the stage she convinced herself that she was a brilliant actress and a peerless dancer.

The reality was that she was unimaginative, unconvincing, devoid of subtlety and worst of all in a stripper, frigid. Not that it would stop them from staring and wanting to get her behind the curtain, of course.

Amanda's first instinct was to lick her lips at them, and she tried, forgetting about the rose until she cut her tongue again on a thorn. She winced, yanking it out too harshly for the act and slicing both lips. She smiled her most endearing smile at the crowd, her teeth red like she'd been chewing her lipstick.

"She's going for the pole," a girl calling herself Britney said.

"Told you," Bethany murmered, watching intently as 'Mandy' rubbed the rose lovingly against her cheek like she was remembering something fondly. She flinched as she nicked herself, and jammed the rose down her cleavage. "Ouch," Bethany smiled.

Amanda blinked her eyes against the pain, used the pole as a dance partner for a few dance steps, gyrating her body, undulating her hips, and arching her back. The slight spreading of her breasts sank the rose deeper during the arching, and the enthusiastic movements of her shoulders and twisting of her body brought stinging pains in her cleavage by the time she began to fully use the pole.

"Oh here it comes..." the girls whispered.

The pros knew the stories the pole could tell, and because they knew them they wouldn't touch it without gloves. Amateurs, on the other hand, loved it. Of course, they didn't know all the disgusting things the other amateurs had left behind or they'd have it wrapped in condoms.

"Here comes cold sores," Alice giggled, watching Amanda lean in to kiss the golden pole, her massively pouted lips leaving big pink copies of themselves, her tongue licking the metal like it was kissing her back. Lower she went, wiggling her ass at the watching crowd, the short skirt moving vigorously enough they could nearly see her firm asscheeks.

Amanda was crouching when she finished, at about the level of the menstruating amateur from earlier than evening, and pressing her hips forward, pushing her pelvis against the cold metal, grinding it for a moment before rotating around it to show herself to a differnet side of the audience. She smiled at them, tried to feign sweetness, and leaned into to make out with her pole-lover again as she dragged herself upward.

With her pelvis pressed against the pole she took a hand off to lift one side of her skirt, delighting the male audience. She wrapped her other arm around the pole, leaning into it with a wince as it squeezed her breasts around the thorns. Her finger came to her lips like she was uncertain, then she spanked herself.

Men cheered a little, and a little more as she repeated it, swivelling around the pole to do it to the other side.

"Guess she likes pain," Bethany smiled.