Sunday, February 06, 2005


This would be a night the girls would never forget. Stripper Ken would see to that. His decadent dance would cause a crescendo of feminine heartbeats to pound in rhythm with the blaring disco beat. One by one the scraps of clothing would come off, each movement and each baring of skin driving the women higher, until the one thing they came to see was revealed. The club owner was a sadist, which is why he had hired this particular male dancer, a failed clone experiment from the 1980's named after the Ken dolls of Barbie fame, by virtue of his endowment. When the moment came there would be shocked gasps from the women, some would faint, and the remainder would wander the streets for hours afterwards in a distressed daze.

Story #153

4 comments:

birdwoman said...

Oh, man, this poor guy. I hope he never sees this entry! That's really hitting below the belt!

(*)>

Indeterminacy said...

I know what you mean. I didn't like to do that to him, but I needed a story.

Abby Taylor said...

A Barbie will do that to a man every time.

The Mushroom said...

This is not unusual. Chicks are said to dig the big guys on the beach who will kick sand in scrawny geeks' faces while flexing their biceps, and only later on when it's too late do the women find out their big burly man overdosed on steroids and he's got a thumble astride a Georgia peanut. And you can't charbroil a steak over a pilot light, as Woody Woodbury said.

Let them learn well from Ken. We scrawny geeks will wait, we have computers to occupy us in the meantime.