A special show

THIS IS THE CONTINUATION OF THE ORIGINAL STORY.
All credit to Ardvark who wrote this story so many years ago.

Marcia Drake's eyes scanned the road ahead. Though she sat at the wheel of the van, she had no idea, and even less control, over where the vehicle was heading. The past six weeks had been a nightmare for the beautiful middle aged woman. As if being dressed like some version of a professional cheer-leader wasn't bad enough, that same humiliating costume determined her body's every physical action. Marcia could only remember the feeling of moving as she wished, of the feel of the air on her arms and legs. Now, coated in Sense-sheath, she did as she was directed. Far worse than all of this, was the fact that her daughter was just as hopelessly trapped as she was. Glancing over, she could see her pretty young daughter Anne sitting in the passenger seat. Anne's previously sharp intelligent eyes now looked lost and haunted. Looking in the Back seat, Marcia could see that bastard's stuffed armadillo, buckled up like some small child.

After gathering the ladies back at the mansion, the armadillo had ordered the rest of the women to return to the ballroom. All except for Anne and her daughter. "I want to provide you two with some quality family time." he chuckled. Having the two women place the stuffed toy in the back of the van, he had them board and drive off into the night.

After almost an hour, Marcia's right sheathed hand reached behind her head and unfastened her ball gag. As the errant hand placed the gag next to her, Marcia glanced over and saw her daughters arms doing the same. "Feel free to have a delightful mother/daughter chat ladies, we have a little time to kill." a voice coming from the armadillo offered. Quiet for a moment, the women sat silently pondering as to whether they should actually speak. Anne finally broke the silence with whispered words, "Where do you think he's making us go?" "I have no idea sweetie." Marcia paused before continuing, "How are you holding up Annie?" Looking at her mother, Anne answered after a little thought, "I don't know how much more of this I can take mom." As her eyes began to tear she finished, " I mean, it's August, I was supposed to be heading to college. And instead I'm dressed up like some stupid cheerleader. A madman's got total control over my entire body and is forcing me to commit crimes. When he isn't doing that, he makes me dance around and jump in sequence with music. Worst, I have to watch as my mother is subject to the same indignities." Finally losing her composure she let loose her tears. "Anne, try to keep fighting! We can't give up! He has us now, but I'm sure your Father and his people are working hard with the police to find us." Trying to will her daughter strength, Marcia added, "It's just a matter of time before we're free. We can't keep popping up in public without somebody noticing!"

As she finished her words of encouragement, Marcia realized that the van was coming to a stop. Her hands turned it off, then proceeded to replace the ball gag into her mouth. Her daughter's helpless body did likewise. "Those were stirring words Marcia. You almost have me convinced your about to be rescued!" the armadillo chuckled. As the women left the vehicle, Marcia took in the details of their location. They were in the parking lot of a strip club called the Pink Pussy-Cat. opening the back door, the women found a pair of blue motorcycle helmets. They were blue with opaque windscreens. The women's sheathed hands lowered them onto their heads. Marcia then picked up the armadillo, as Anne gathered up a large duffel bag.

Walking from the parking lot toward the club's rear entrance, the women were quite a site. Blue cycle helmets covered their faces, while each was in a blue tank top, white vest, white hot-pants ensemble. Their exposed flesh had the odd nude pantyhosed look of the Sense-Sheath body stocking. On their feet, each wore knee high, high-heeled, zip-up go-go boots. The boots echoed in perfect rhythm to each other as the women strutted into the building.

As small sweaty man in a cheap suit met them at the door. "You must be the gals I'm waiting for! You're late! Your agent said you'd be her by 11:00 P.M. It's almost 1!!!" He said excitedly as he walked beside the women. "Are you ready to go on?" Marcia felt her head nod yes. Oh my god, he's going to make us dance for people! Marcia thought. Desperately, though she had always failed before, she found herself willing her arms to move, her legs strained against the Sense-sheath and the shafts of those damn boots! "The curtains right up there, let me introduce you first." the little man barked. Stopping just before the curtain, the women waited. Marcia tried to resist with all she had, but found nothing altered. She could only imagine the horror that her daughter was feeling beneath her helmet mask.

"Fellas do I have a treat for you." the man squawked over the club P.A. "Inspired by the Cheerleader Hostage Gang that's all over the news as we speak, I present a very special duo, Let's hear it for these ladies!!!" As his words came to an end, Marcia felt her body rush out onto a stage. Through her helmet's visor she could see a seedy club full of men in suits, truck drivers, and college students. All cheered and rose as her heels clicked her out onto a performance runway. Keeping time with the music, both women began to gyrate and dance. In succession, they strutted out to the end of the stage and utilized a pole, rubbing themselves on it and pulling off stunning acrobatic maneuvers. It was by far, the most humiliating experience in Marcia's life. Helpless, she could only watch in horror as she and her daughter presented themselves while dancing about. After a while, their bodies began to intertwine. Each rubbed the other's crotch with her leg, they turned and massaged each others hips an ass. Marcia's own hands even gripped and pawed at her daughter's breasts! She could only watch in horror, tears clouding her vision. As Marcia waded down into the audience to rub her backside into several patrons laps, her daughter ducked back behind the curtain.

Marcia could hear the men begin to chant, "Take it off, Take it off..." when suddenly, a gunshot rang out. As the club went silent, Marcia could see her daughter standing on the stage, fire arm in hand, Armadillo belted to her waist, bag open and on the floor. Pulling another gun from the bag and tossing it, Marcia found her hands reach up and catch the weapon. Quickly and with great skill she turned it around and leveled it at the ready. "Gentlemen, this is a stick up!" The familiar voice issued forth from the stuffed armadillo. Marcia found her left hand reaching up and tipping off her motorcycle helmet. As it hit the ground, Marcia could see her daughter doing the same. One of the patrons managed to say, "It's actually them!" before the armadillo cut him off. "Quiet. Everyone empty the contents of your wallets in the duffel." As her daughter walked around to them all, gun leveled and bag offered, each man placed everything in it. Finishing, her daughter walked over to the sleazy little club owner. "Take this lovely lady to the safe and give her everything inside, or I'll make her ventilate you." the armadillo commanded. Gulping, the small man led Marcia's daughter into another room. Perfectly balance in her heeled boots, Marcia maintained her aim on the group of men. Though she was glad not to be dancing for them anymore, she didn't enjoy threatening them with the firearm. Returning, Marcia's daughter came back out. "Everyone on your knees in the center of the room, NOW!" they were ordered. After they had done it, Marcia pulled a large chain and lock from the bag and backed out the front door. Her daughter, with that same bag, headed out the back. After exiting, Marcia's puppet like hands locked the doors with the chain. She could only assume her daughter was doing the same to the back exit.

Towering heels carrying them, the cheer-leaders ran to the van and climbed in. As Marcia's sheathed hands started the vehicle and drove off, the armadillo chortled. "You ladies certainly earned your tips tonight!"