Novah
The evening air was chilly. I wrapped my coat tighter around me as I ran down the busy red-light district. Looking down at my wrist, the watch read eight twenty-two. The spare eight minutes brought a smile to my sweaty face. The red-blue neon lights on top of the Blue Angels building seemed to draw closer as the distance between the club and I grew smaller. The upbeat music thumped in synchronized beats when I arrived.
Darting to the alley by the side of the club, I tapped the door twice. Soon enough, it was opened by Teddy; tall with an imposing figure. “Welcome.”
“Thanks, Ted.” I shouldered in, taking off my black cross body purse and coat. As usual, it was an orderly chaos as names were called across the backstage room and music from the main arena flowed backstage.
“Early as usual, money maker!” The manager, Yves approached me, pronouncing his hips and took a long look. The drag queen wore another of his bright colored pant suits that complemented his honey skin. “Why don’t you change into something Angel-like?”
Pursing my lips, I nodded and looked through the costume rack in my private locker. The red lace bra and skirt school set caught my eye. Adding a black stiletto to the attire in my hand, I locked my locker with a combination code. Stepping into the overt changing room, I overheard two girls talking in high tones.
“The apartment rent is eight hundred dollars a week. So, four hundred each if we are to share,” The first one said, untying her salt and pepper hair.
The second girl dropped her lip gloss, gasping, “Oh my god, that is eight Private, just to cover the rent!”
Shaking my head, I wondered why people would spend so much money on rent when one could be a property owner. I hope I get more than my usual number of Privates tonight. Changing out of my baggy top and shorts, I emerged from the changing room in the costume.
Tapping my shoulder as he passed, he threw over his shoulder, “You will be on stage soon, girl.”
“Okay!” I fixed my make-up, making my features softer and played with my hair. Revealing a dimpled smile, my signature look as a timid high school girl was almost complete. Grabbing the fluffy bunny mask, I placed it over my face and checked myself in the tall mirror.
Perfect.
“It’s eight forty. You are up, Cherry,” Yves barked, nodding in satisfaction. “Get on stage and serve some realness.”
Other girls prepared to get on stage with me, running hands through hair or adjusting their garter. When I climbed on my podium, the lights were dimmed. An eerie silence filled the space around me, along with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Familiar with the routine, I spread my legs and assumed a cute pose. With a sudden start, the club transformed into a mystical dark pit with sparkling red and pink lights that cast beautiful swirling patterns across the stage. The poles gleamed and upbeat music flowed out of speakers in the ceiling.
Taking a breath, I gripped the pole tightly with both hands and began to sway my hips to the beat. Numb to the leering eyes and catcalls, I dipped my head, arched my back and twirled around the pole with a smile. Slowing to a stop, I made eye contact with a couple of the grinning men and tugged at my bra. With a teasing smile, I took off the bra and flung them to the bra, quietly hoping none of them took it away in his pocket. I could not afford the time to get another on Friday; the day I used to shop for costumes. There was a job interview I could not afford to miss out on. Perhaps I could purchase one online…
Pushing the thought out of my mind, I pouted and began to gently rub my boobs on the cold pole. Earning a couple of tips in my short skirt, I writhed around and crouched, giving a smoky look over my shoulder at my audience. For the final performance, I sat down and parted my legs, throwing my hair back. When the group show ended, I returned backstage with the bra and sighed in relief.
“Yoo hoo, Cherry.” Yves waved a card in my face, grinning. “You hit the jackpot.”
Privates were special requests from clients for a one on one performance and competition among strippers was really tough, so getting such requests was really hard.
“Guy will escort you to the room.” In an instant, the tall tattooed security guard appeared beside me.
“Hi.” My greeting received a nod of acknowledgement.
“For three hours.”
My heart settled with a satisfied thump in my chest. I really did hit the jackpot for my long tiring night shift.
Guy walked us down a dimly lit corridor to an empty room that was to be mine for the three hours show. The room was empty of people except for the attractive looking man who sat with his legs crossed and nursed his bottle of wine.
“No touching, sir,” Guy began to list the rules. “You keep yourself one meter away from her at all times. I will be watching.”
The man nodded with a lazy smile and waved him off. On his way out, Guy gave me a hard look and I nodded gamely.
I was always ready.
His dark eyes gazed into my soul when I looked his way. As I began my performance, the man rose to his feet. Slowly, he closed the distance between us. Familiar with such intense scrutiny, I discarded my bra from my chest and tugged at my skirt. Swaying my hips to the slow music that played, I felt him walking around me until he halted right in front of me. He maintained eye contact for a conspicuously long time. Why was he not focused on my writhing figure?
My breathing quickened as I suddenly felt conscious. There was something about the way he looked at me that had my hairs standing on my neck. Whether in a good way or bad, I could not place a finger on it. Sweat began to gather on my forehead as I continued to dance.
Ignore his scrutinizing gaze and think of the money.
“What is your name?” His voice was surprisingly fruity.
Maintaining my smile, I replied, “Cherry.”
“Your real name, tell me.”
“Call me Cherry, sir.”
“You don’t trust me with your name?”
Batting my lashes, I sweetly said, “I don’t trust anyone silly.”
A deep laugh rose from him. It was time to turn the tables on him. I glanced at his hands and wondered if he was married or not. Many men threw their rings away when stepping into the strip club. Most of them just needed a listening ear. These three hours could be my easiest one yet-
Strong arms grabbed my waist as I felt myself pulled into his chest. Wide eyed, I barked in his face, “Unhand me!”
Why was Guy not stepping in?
“Don’t struggle, sweetheart.” The smell of alcohol reached my nose as he gently raised my chin in his hand. “Tonight, you are mine.”
Rolling my eyes, I stomped on his foot and hit him in the torso with a clenched fist. With oomph, he released me and rubbed his abdomen.
“I am out.” His large hand grabbed my wrist when I turned to leave and pulled me back. Without hesitating, I ran my palm across his cheek. “Fuck off, you horny bastard.”
Storming out of the room, I ran into a furious Yves. “You are fired.”
