Apply some pressure

Lyndsey closes her act, writhing on the floor with her legs spread, her back arched as she humps to the thrusts of an imaginary lover. There's a burst of appreciative hoots and applause from the men stageside, and she stands and gives them a little curtsey, smiling prettily as she crouches to pick up the bills that have been thrown on the stage.

As she steps offstage and slips on a satin robe you see the waitress approach her, pointing in your direction. Lyndsey nods and pushes her discarded costume and rug into a bag, dropping it at the DJ's booth before swaying in your direction. You push your chair back a little so you're slightly more hidden in shadow, while Len hooks a chair to your table for her to sit.

"Hi guys," she trills prettily as she sits, crossing her legs to show a length of her fine thighs, still decorated with her stockings. "Thanks for inviting me over. Like the show?"

"Pretty hot," Len grins. "Made me want to go back to school."

"Oh, you're such a tease," she giggles. "I bet you were a bad little schoolboy."

"You know it girl. The baddest. That's what all the good little white schoolgirls liked."

"Listen to you! So naughty! And what about you, mister strong dark and silent," she asks, turning to look at you. "What did you think of my show?"

"I thought you showed a lot of promise Lyndsey," you answer, leaning forward so he light falls on your face.

Her reaction to recognising you is a physical jolt of shock, her face suddenly full of alarm.

"My name...is Bambi," she stammers nervously.

"Sure. Bambi, Lyndsey, whatever. You gonna do this act in the school hallways tomorrow?"

"I don't...don't know what you....what you mean."

"Cut the bullshit girl. I know who you are, you know who I am. I also know you're underage. The only question now is what we're going to do about it." You see Len raise an eyebrow in speculation as you watch emotions chase themselves across Lyndsey's pretty face.

"What do you mean?" she asks nervously, pulling her robe tighter around her.

"I mean what are we going to do about you being illegal in here? Not to mention the surprise it would be for the school and your family to know how you spend your free time. Underage strippers can get a club shut down. The folks who own this place wouldn't be very understanding about their business being damaged. They might want to discuss that with you personally. And in detail."

"Ummmm, I have ID. I'm twenty one," she says attempting defiance even though her voice trembles nervously.

"You probably do. It's certainly faked. You're twenty at best, probably nineteen. Now do you want to stop lying? If you do, maybe we can work something out."

"Like what?" she asks warily, her eyes searching your face.