Chapter 16: The Can-Can
As the eight shamefaced girls followed Molly off to the dressing room, Tommy turned back to the guests with a bright smile.
“I’d like to direct your attention to behind the bar," he said. “Allow me to introduce Danny—your bartender for the evening—and Michael, your lovely barmaid.”
There was a chuckle from the crowd.
“Michael,” Tommy continued, “used to get quite the kick out of teasing me when Sister Ruth made me wear the girls’ uniform a few years back. So, tonight, I thought it’d be poetic justice to return the favor. While the ladies are preparing for their performance, Michael here will be tending to your cocktail needs. Feel free to call him Michelle. Thanks again, and enjoy the show!”
The guests applauded with amusement and turned to inspect the bar. Danny was busy mixing drinks, ever so thankful that Tommy had chosen to leave him alone.
Michael, on the other hand, was mortified. As degrading as it had been for him to be forced into a barmaid’s dress, he had been able to remain in relative anonymity behind the bar while the attention was directed toward the eight girls. Now he’d be the center of attention in his female garb as he served the thirsty guests. As one would expect, it would be a dreadfully miserable experience for him.
In support of Tommy, the guests were merciless as they derided him, calling him Michelle and telling him how cute he looked in his dress. The females were especially cruel. As he bent over to serve drinks to a table of six girls, one of them reached over and flipped the back of his skirt, revealing his lacy, ruffled panties to the table—and half the room. The table erupted in laughter. Michael, red as a beet, quickly pushed her hand away and tried to move on.
Just as he thought he could escape, one of the girls called out sweetly, “Michelle, can you do a little curtsy for us?"
Michael ignored her and scurried back toward the bar, pretending not to hear. Unfortunately, he saw her make a beeline for Tommy’s table. A moment later, Tommy crooked his finger in Michael’s direction.
“Michelle, I just got word that you refused to curtsy for one of my guests,” accused Tommy.
Michael swallowed hard. “I didn’t hear her,” he mumbled.
“Is that so. Well, can you hear me now?” responded Tommy. Michael nodded sullenly. “Good,” continued Tommy. “Because I want you to go up on the stage and show us all your best curtsy.”
Gasps and giggles rippled through the room as Michael, cheeks flushing, trudged toward the stage. He stood in front of the curtain and waited disconsolately for further instructions. All eyes were on him as Tommy spoke.
“Michelle would now like to demonstrate her very best curtsy,” Tommy announced to raucous laughter. “Let’s give her our full attention!”
Now blushing crimson, Michael lifted the sides of his skirt, gave a stiff little bend at the knees, and attempted the daintiest curtsy he could manage.
Just as he turned to leave, Tommy’s voice rang out again.
“Just a second, Michelle. I know you’re just dying to show us what you have on underneath that skirt, aren’t you?” asked Tommy, who wasn’t really expecting an answer. “Why don’t you turn around, bend over at the waist, and lift your skirt up your back for us, nice and high.”
Michael groaned inwardly but obeyed. The frilly lace of his panties drew howls of laughter and delighted whistles from the audience. Finally, after one more curtsy, Michael was allowed to leave the stage to a nice ovation from the appreciative spectators. The red-faced “barmaid” dutifully took more cocktail orders from the happy patrons.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, back in the dressing room, Molly had taken control.
“Have any of you had any experience dancing the can-can?” Molly asked cheerfully.
The girls shook their heads, their faces still flushed from their earlier ordeal.
“Well, good news,” said Molly, opening the closet door. “You’ll be able to say ‘yes’ after tonight!”
Inside hung eight flamboyant can-can costumes in dazzling colors. Molly continued, “As you can see, you won’t need those cocktail outfits anymore, so if you’ll kindly take them off…”
Sighing with resignation, for the second time that evening the girls stripped nude at Molly's behest
Once they were all naked, Molly picked a can-can dress from the closet and smiled as the girls collectively made a motion toward her to snatch the dress, all hoping to cover their nakedness. But instead, Molly slipped it on herself—right over her own clothes.
“Now, have a seat,” she instructed. “Time for a demonstration.”
Naked and embarrassed, the girls, who would have given their souls for any type of coverage, submissively sat naked on the floor in a semi-circle. They shivered when their backsides contacted the cold, hardwood floor, and they covered their chests and sex as best they could.
Molly surveyed the unusual sight and smiled to herself. “Okay, girls, I’d like you to watch very closely, because I’m only going to show you once.”
Molly tapped her phone, and the sounds of lively music bounced off the walls of the room. Molly began her demonstration.
“Hands on hips like this,” she said, demonstrating her stance. “A nice high leg kick is a must!"
She hiked her skirt to her waist and kicked enthusiastically. “Now pay attention, girls—the best part’s coming up.”
The piece Molly referred to was a portion of Jacques Offenbach's "Orpheus in the Underworld." It seemed to invite bawdiness. As the music reached its signature crescendo, Molly turned, bent forward, flipped her skirt high up her back, and shook her hips back and forth to the beat of the music. The girls cringed as they pictured themselves being forced to perform the salacious dance in front of a drunken audience.
Once the lesson ended, she passed out the costumes. Each girl received a black can-can dress with thin straps and layers of vivid magenta petticoats, thigh-high stockings, shiny black heels, frilly ruffled panties, and a matching headpiece. Molly smiled with satisfaction as she eyed her embarrassed dancers clad in their resplendent costumes.
“Okay, girls, we’ll have one quick run-through before we go out there. Let’s make it good and quick. The natives are getting restless,” chirped Molly as she lined up the girls and started the music.
Despite themselves, the girls picked up the basic steps under Molly’s guidance. Their kicks were uneven, but certainly good enough to satisfy the undiscerning crowd. In any case, their audience wouldn't be especially focused on choreography.
Molly led the eight girls out to the stage and lined them up behind the curtain.
“Remember, high leg kicks, lift those dresses and shake those tushies like you mean it,” reminded Molly.
The girls didn’t respond—they were a dispirited bunch, very much abashed at their predicament.
Back out in the hall, Tommy took the cue from Molly, who had poked her head from the curtain. Tommy then signaled to the light guy, a friend of his. The lights dimmed, a drumroll sounded, and a spotlight illuminated the closed curtain. Molly gave the rope a tug—and the curtain whooshed open.
The audience voiced their approval as eight girls dressed in festive costumes filled the spotlight. “Orpheus to the Underworld” began playing on the speaker system, and, on cue, the eight girls started dancing. Their leg kicks, though not quite always synchronized, nevertheless tickled the audience. When they all turned around and exposed their frilly panties, shaking their hips from side to side lasciviously, the audience was floored.
This is what the hall sounded like as the shamefaced dancers lifted their dresses and kicked their legs:
The Can-Can
As one might expect, it was quite a festive atmosphere. The whooping and hollering sounds filled the hall, as the eight red-faced girls turned back around and continued their performance. Their hearts weren’t in it, but they kicked up their heels, knowing full well that anything less than their best efforts would lead to even further degradation.
The routine ended, and they curtsied—as Molly told them to—earning a raucous standing ovation. The curtain closed, and the girls were relieved to be out of the spotlight—both figuratively and literally.
As they hustled backstage, the chant began.
“ENCORE! ENCORE!”
Molly intercepted the girls before they reached the dressing room.
“Wow! They loved you!” she beamed. “Let’s give ’em one more, shall we?”
Groans filled the air. The girls lined up again, knowing resistance was futile.
But before the curtain went up, Molly gave them further instructions. “I just had a marvelous idea, girls. Let’s make this encore extra special. Here’s what I want you to do...”
She leaned in and disclosed her idea. When she was finished, all eight had horrified looks on their faces.
“And remember,” she said, walking off, “at the main part, lift those dresses high up your backs and shake those hips like there's no tomorrow!”
Molly pulled the rope to open the curtain and took her seat at the front table. The audience cheered in appreciation, the music restarted, and the girls again started dancing.
About a minute into the piece, Molly rose and gave them their cue.
To the utter astonishment and sheer delight of the spellbound audience, the eight girls, in perfect unison, reached under their skirts and slipped off their panties, tossing them straight out, high in the air, where they floated down into the outstretched hands of eight gleeful spectators.
The hall erupted. The crowd roared, clapped, shrieked.
As the piece pressed toward its frenzied peak, a feverish excitement gripped the hall. Every guest leaned forward, eager for the moment they all hoped was coming.
Eight young ladies, however, felt no such excitement, and were anything but eager.
When the Offenbach piece drew near to its frenzied peak, many in the audience were on the edges of their seats, breathless with anticipation.
They would not be disappointed.
The music reached its raucous climax. The dancers turned, lifted their skirts high, and shook their bare bottoms in rhythmic, synchronized humiliation. The sight of eight naked, beautiful asses of different sizes and shapes shaking back and forth to the beat of the music was a scene to behold.
The hall reached a fever pitch. Many in the crowd watched in awe with their mouths wide open, incredulous at the spectacle they were witnessing. Others were on their feet applauding, screaming in delight.
When the reprise ended, the girls turned to face the crowd once more—every one of them beet red, humiliated, and pantyless. There was one more reprise and the act was repeated, much to the exhilaration of the highly entertained revelers.
When the piece concluded, the girls received yet another rousing standing ovation, this one much more boisterous. A few of the humiliated girls covered their faces in shame.
The curtain closed, and they all hoped this would be the end of their humiliating ordeal. But they would soon discover that this was only the warm-up act.