The two bouncers knew that trouble was afoot when the all-female crowd swelled before the club doors. The two of them stood guard at the private club which, for three months already, featured the well-received Girls Night Out male dance revue; and they watched as a number of women made suggestive remarkes to attractive male passers-by. The two of them also witnessed as six of the women waylaid an attracive young man, manhandled him and informed him, to the amusement of everyone, that he was too sexy for his clothes, and asked him if he could use some help getting them off. The young man was lucky to lose only his belt, which had been unbuckled and yanked from his pants as he pushed his way out of the crowd and ran down the street holding up his pants.
The women who had attended the revue on previous nights had been enthusiastic, but they'd never been so rowdy as to make the bouncers fearful of losing their clothes. Granted, the two bouncers had been complemented on their imposing and statuesque physiques, but they'd never felt uncomfortable around a group of women, as if they were a hair's breadth from having their clothes torn from their bodies.
Apparently, most of the attendees waiting outsidewee amateur athletes who played in some local female club teams; and the women were behaving as wild and unruly as the bouncers did when they went out drinking with their buddies from the rugby team. But the similarities were anything but reassuring.
The women were getting impatient with having to wait outside, and a few wanred the bouncers that if they didn't open the doors in five minutes that they'd have the bouncers give them a strip show. As the women pushed themselves against the doors and brushed against the anxious bouncers, they laughed and giggled, as if to suggest that they were kidding. But, after being repeatedly grabbed, their bottoms pinched, their crotches cupped and their shirts tugged, the bouncers -- Matt and Neil -- took the remarks at face value and regarded them as an ultimatum.
Matt slipped inside to inform management of the situation while Neil was left alone to face the unruly mob, one man against fifty or sixty excitable, inebriated women who'd stop at nothing to have a good time. They couldn't keep from leering at him, nor could they keep their miscievous hands off his body. Someone asked him if he looked hot in his skivvies, whie others squeezed his arms and thighs.
And just as one women explained that he had thrity seconds before he'd have to "show them the goods," his partner returned with the permission to open the doors. A deafening and high-pitched cheer echoed though the alleyway as Matt and a much relieved Neil began to direct the women inside the building.
As the women poured into the seating area, seats plopped into available seats, and milled about to chat, while others raced to the bar for drinks. It became clear that management had overbooked because women were pouring in by the dozens, even after all of the seats were claimed. They wee probably about seventy women in the room at performance time, and it would be standing room only for most of them. And it was the women forced to stand who were the most irate about the delay in the performance. They were demanding that they bring out the men, or else they'd strip the waiters and bartenders (all of whom must have been dancers as well). The noise was deafening as the women slammed their feet onto the floor and banged tables in their irritation.
And then the master of ceremonies stepped out. It took five minutes before he could secure the attention of the audience when he explained tat there had been a slight delay and that the strippers would be out shortly. There were boos, requests that the men be brought out pronto; and when an anonymous voice asked the crowd if they should strip the host, there was a burst of applause and enthusiastic howling. The host scurried offstage to the merriment of the female audience.
And when the lights dimmed, there were more deafening cheers and squeals. The show was about to commence. And a hunk in a construction outfit emerged from backstage to strip to his bikini underwear, to the delight of the howling crowd. A fireman then emerged, followed by a policeman and a biker (reminiscent of something seen at a Village People concert), who took turns pulling of their clothes which they threw to the hungry and insatiable audience which seethed around them. The four men were then dancing around the stage in nothing but their g-strings as the women applauded them and urged them to take off it all off. The men completed their number , teasing the women beyond endurance, until they stepped forward to take their bows.
The women soon began chanting for the men to show them the full package; but when one women ascended the stage in an attempt to take the dancers shorts off by force, Neil and Matt, the bouncers dragged her offstage and proceeded to carry her to the back of the room. The entire crowd were behind the women , as she kicked and screamed, protesting that they had no right to treat her so brutally. And before Neil and Matt could drag her outside, about seven or eight Amazon women stepped before them and told her to let the woman go. Neil and Matt had to do their job and expel the troublemaker; and they attempted to push past the women. But the women grabbed hold of Matt and Neil, and pulled the woman from their grasp.
At this point, the host walked onstage, a timid spector of a man, and told the crod to "simmer down." Some of the women laughed at his feeble attempt at controlling the situation. "What if we don't" hollored an anonymous voice. More laughter. "We want a full strip show," yelled someone else. Everyone cheered.
"Ah ...there's no nudity at our ... um ... strip shows," declared the frigthened host. "But we paid twenty dollars for a stip show," added someone else, "and want to see it all, don't we girls?" "We demand nudity." The dancers onstage were getting nervous and began to slowly retreat backstage.
"I'm sorry but we've never done that," explained the host. "This is a dance revue not pornography." Everyone laughed at his prissy assertion. "There will be no nudity, so if you'll just take your seats, we'll finish the show."
And then one of the women leaped onto the stage and turned to face the crowd. Neil and Matt made to approach the stage to pull her down, but there must have been ten or so women holding onto them and blocking their passage, either to the stage or outside. The women onstage then spoke. "We came here for a strip show, and that's what we want, right?" The women cheered. The waiters shot worried glances at one another. "Who wants to see the full package?" There was an instinct roar which suggested Yes more than No. The dancers continued to retreat, as other women leaped onstage near the exits.
The host spoke up for the last time. "The dancers will not strip naked." The woman onstage then addressed the wrod again. "Well, if they won't do it themselves, then we'll have to do it. Are you with me?" More cheers and more women ascended the stage, standing between the exits and the dancers.
"Let's strip 'em girls," she screamed as if it were a battle cry. "Let's strip 'em all." The place was bedlam and the noise crescendoed to a cacaphony of screams, catcalls, squeals, whistles, chants and laughter. The women surrounding Neil and Matt turned to the bouncers and grinned before closing in upon them. Women leaped onstage, surrounding the four dancers and the host. Women poured over the bar, grabbing hold of the frightened bartenders; while the three waiters were jostled and pulled to the floor.
Neil and Matt were overwhelmed, and there must have been about fifteen excited, giggling women jostling them, grabbing them and pulling at their clothes. Neither of them were prepared to fight the women with punches, but the defensive pushes were little avail against fifteen women hell bent on stripping them naked. Within seconds, both of them lost their balance and the women piled onto them, tugging and tearing at their clothes. Belts were slipped loose, buttons clawed from shirts, shoes and socks peeled off; and shirts and pants torn off by a multitude of eager hands.
A few more seconds past and the women were lifting the bouncers up by their feet and eager hands tugged their briefs to their ankles and off their feet. There were cheers as their underpants were thrown aloft and as the women held them down, tkaing advantage of the time to cop a few feels.
The men onstage fared no better. The host was the first to get swalloed up by the giggling, boisterous horde of women who threw him around and then made quick work of his clothes, which came off in shreads. Shoes were thown out to the crowd, then socks, and then shred upon shred of trouser fabric and shirt fabric were passed around until a pair of silk boxers were held up to attest to the success of their mission. More cheers. The host, who inspired more mirth than lust was then forced to get on his hands and knees while one of the women leaped on top of him, smacking his bottom and ordering him to get moving. The host shuffled about, naked, on hands and knees while the crowd laughed at the spectacle. "Now this is worth twenty bucks," remarked someone.
About twenty-five women threw themselves upon the four dancers and grabbed them by their g-strings. The force of the surge toppled them over and hands slithered all over their sweaty bodies as other hands grabbed hold of their undergarments and pulled them off. Four more trophies were held up to the women, who then proceeded to fight amongst themselves for possession of the g-strings. The dancers were helpless aas the women pinned them down from sheer force of numbers and proceeded to rub their hands over their muscles and play with their privates.
The two bartenders were dragged over the bar and into a crowd of women which nimbly unburdened them of every shred of clothing. Clip-on bowties were popped free and shoes and socks yanked off, while the euphoric crowd swifly pulled at shirt buttons, unziped trousers and slid trousers down their legs and off their feet. The women were applied themselves to the task of stripping these men with single-minded purpose and within seconds, shirt fragments littered the air and floor while briefs were being passed around. The bartenders were held down like the others. And when these women saw what was happening to the host, they decided to stage a show for themselves, and insisted that the men dance in the nude. The bartenders were hoisted up and told to dance as the women clapped in rhythm.
The three waiters were pushed over tables and knocked onto the floor, promptly denuded just as the others were. Women cheerfully unbuttoned and unzipped and slipped the mens's trousers off, and then yanked briefs and boxers down to their ankles and into the air.
All twelve men had been stripped naked within a five minute period. And as the rest of the crowd noticed the bartenders beginning to sway their hips to amuse the women, the other men were pulled up and ordered to do likewise. All of the men were being force to dance naked for the women. And Neil and Matt, along with the bartenders and waiters, were pulled onstage so that everyone could get a good look.
The entire audience of cheering women was applauding and clapping in rhythmic fashion as the men, some of them quite expertly, others awkwardly, began to strut their stuff in the buff. Hips swayed, and private parts bounced and jiggled. This was exactly what the women wanted to see. It was a parade of private parts; and some of the dancers even seemed to be enjoying the opportunity to dance naked for so many eager women. A number of the women remained onstage to touch the men and to encourage others to dance more vigorously, shaking a few of them so that their privates bounced around for the audience. "Now this is a strip show," yelled an anonymous voice.
When additional security arrived five minutes later, all hell broke loose. The first security officers entered the building only to be laped upon and overpowered by women who tugged and pulled at their clothes and, to the delight of the women, slipped their trousers of their feet and threw them into the air. More boxer shorts were passed around as trophies and the unsuspecting officers were pushed upstage.
But when about ten more security officers arrived, armed with sticks, the women realized that the fun was over, now that they were being forced to fight or flee. And, upon sighting the officers, the women took flight, racing past the officers to the open doors, others running backstage to the back doors. The retreat was too sudden and overwhelming for the officers to even attempt to take prisoners; and the most were knocked over by the retreating crowd; and some of the women, while leaving, were still cheeky enough to gang up on one officer, pull his stick away from him, and hold him while they pulled off his trousers.
"One more trophy before we go," someone said with a giggle as the pulled his trousers off over his feet. Two other officers were overwhelmed and quickly pantsed, before the women raced into the night, many of them holding trousers and trouser fragments, shirt fragments, briefs, boxers, g-strings, belts, and other mementos of this night of unalloyed freedom and girl power. The officers chased the rest of the women from the building before any more men could be overwhelmed and debagged. "Thank god for these sticks," remarked one of the men who survived the onslaught of fleeing women unscathed, "or they might have pantsed us all." With evident relief, the naked men descended the stage to evaluate what just happened. The clothed men were amused, and relieved that they'd been so close to losing their clothes while the denuded men still in shock. "I feel sorry for the husbands and boyfriends these furies will be going home to," remarked someone else. "Who knows how many men are losing their pants as we speak," added someone else. "We're probably safer in here." "Ah, the horror," muttered the host to himself.