Dancing
After the initial interview, Belinda had me dance, and at first, I was sure I would throw up, but I didn’t, and by the end, she was smiling and nodding. She offered me the job and gave me my own code for getting through the dancer’s entrance.
I decided to go shopping after, realising I no longer had anything suitable for the job. After buying new clothes I headed home and began to practice. more because I was anxious. I like that the routines are not planned, each dancer can do her own thing, so it removes the stress of trying to remember moves.
Freedom to dance in any way I want is what I need. Unrestricted, it’s when I dance the best. By eight pm I am in bed and tired, knowing that tomorrow is my first day. Well, tomorrow night is.
Waking I get myself ready, then sit with my phone, switching the sim cards over again. As soon as it powers on the messages begin to flood, ignoring his and any unknown numbers I search out my dad and read his message.
He tells me the club is going great, and that my mum and sister are good as well. He doesn’t mention Joel which is great, it means he hasn‘ t shown up there. I reply with a quick message that I am drowning in university work but hope to come home to visit in a few weeks.
I say weeks knowing it will be months more than likely, but saying weeks will make him relax and be happy. I don’t wait for his reply before taking out the SIM card and putting in the new one that I use for work and such.
I spend the day trying to relax, ready for tonight. Before I know it, it’s time to leave. Grabbing my things I leave, driving to the club I go the way that Belinda said. Walking through I stop seeing a man.
“Harley?”
I nod to him.
“I’m Rob. I own the place. Belinda is better at finding women suitable than I am. I will show you where the other girls get changed, sometimes they get changed halfway through the night, it also has a small kitchen so on your break you can sit in there.”
I nod and follow him around, he stops next to a door.
“Toilets, these are for the dancers only! The door opposite is the room where dancers get changed, sit and relax on break. Again, purely for dancers. Security toilet, their break room.” He points to the next two doors.
“Thank you.” I am glad things are split, it will make me feel better.
“Okay, you have fifteen minutes then come out, you can stay on stage, move, it’s your choice as Belinda said. Here’s your mask, it has your name inside, your stage name that is. Never use your real name, Harley.”
“That’s great thank you.” He nods and walks off, walking through to the room I sit down, my head falling back. I’m glad none of the women. are in here. I need five minutes to compose myself. An hour later I feel relaxed, dancing through the tables. I ensure I sat on the opposite side of the men, ensuring the table was between us.
All the men are wearing masks, which I like, it means I have no idea if the guy I served coffee just a week ago with his wife is currently
my ass
better than the place I danced at before.
My first few weeks at the club went great, by the time three months. had passed, I was comfortable dancing closer to the guys.
And now, six months later. I’m comfortable dancing on their laps. Which I am, I smile and move against him, and he keeps his hands off my body, other than a few times to slip money into the waistband of my skirt.
I move dancing between the tables, stopping at the next. I roll my eyes seeing the other dancers. They are here for money, I mean I am but not like them. I dance through the tables, linger for a couple of minutes and move on.
The girls here are leeches, they dance through the tables, but all their attention and energy stick to the rich guys. It might mean they get a lot more cash tonight, but then the guys never come back once they realise how much they went through..
I also hate the rich ones, they are usually old, fat and don’t even try to hide their wedding rings. They often try to feel you up as well. So while I dance with them, I barely do lap dances for them, and I certainly don’t dangle on them.
As I dance I see Rob waving me over. I move, dancing through the tables, before stopping at him. He is standing by a pole, so I dance as I
wait for him to talk.
“How much would you object to extra cash?” I stop mid–spin at his words. “I know you say no and refuse but please? I wouldn’t ask you Harley if it wasn’t important.”
“Why not just get one of the others to dance for them?” I don’t do
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private booths.
“Because the men can see the difference. They can see the difference between someone who dances because they love to dance and those who are doing it to try milk cash.”
I keep dancing on the pole.
“Rob, I don’t do private dances.”
“What if I give you double, for the whole night? Including double the tips men give you.”
I laugh at his words. “Are you crazy?” He must be to offer me that.
“No, I just know this man is a client we want and need. You know the booths ask for a reasonable donation, he paid five k, for an hour.” I stop mid–swing. That’s a lot, most pay one to three hundred, and he paid five thousand?
“Look, all I am thinking is if we impress him, he may speak to more of his friends, and bring them here.” He hopes, but it’s unlikely. Most
don’t return.
“Okay, but then I want all my holidays. All at once, I will leave Monday to see family, I have a month off.” I should go home and see my dad.
“Fine. You get the five k he paid for the room, double our usual pay as well. And you can take your time off after this weekend. He’s in the blue room.” He smiles and walks off. Getting down from the pole I dance towards the hall with the rooms, once there I stop.
Am I really doing this? I have been in the booths before when dancers took too long and I had to go in and remind them time was up. Often
keep hidden and used the room to hide them.
Him
I take a deep breath and walk into the room, I turn and look at the man, and stop.
“Well fuck.” The words escape before I can stop them, he isn’t like anyone who usually comes here, not the rich guys or the ones living down to the last penny. He’s wearing a suit that shows his muscles bulging from within it.
He has tattoos along his hands and up his neck, with a beard just showing below his mask. His blue eyes instantly draw me in. He reminds me of a biker, like at my dad’s club. I shouldn’t like bikers, but thanks to Daddy and our trips there I do love them.
I hear his slight chuckle as the music starts.
“Sorry.” I wasn’t expecting this, I move into the room and start dancing on the pole first, after ten minutes I dance towards him, and he keeps his eyes on me as I dance against him. Nothing but the sound of music fills the space between us as I dance against him.
“Do you do this often?” His question causes me to laugh.
“I work here, so what do you think?” I turn so my back is against him, my body grinding against his, and he groans.
“I think based on how you’re moving and what you’re doing to me you dance a lot. Maybe even for years.” His head falls back and I laugh. “Kill me now.”
“Is my dancing that bad?”
“No, but this is torture. I came to pass time before a meeting, I may regret that decision.” I smile at his words and keep moving against him.
“A lap dance before a meeting could have its benefits, it will be a calm meeting.”
He laughs and nods.
“I’m not sure I could walk out of here, go to my meeting and not keep imagining this over and over.” His words taunt and I purposely push against him harder and he groans.
“Do they train you on how to make guys want to bleed?”
I smile and shake my head. “No, that’s my signature move.” I turn and face him, moving against him more.
“So, can you give me a name?” His head tilts and I continue to dance.
“Scarlet.”
“Okay, Scarlet, I know that isn’t your name, so I will give you my dance name, which is.” He considers it and I laugh. “I have no idea what a male dancer’s name would be to give one.”
I consider a name and laugh. “How about Spanky McPants? What do you think Mr. Spanky Mcpants?” He laughs and then groans as I dip against him.
“Sure, sure, I’ll agree.”
His head falls back and I continue to dance.
“So, you dance much in these rooms?” His question is quiet and I shake my head.
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Him
“You’re the first Sir, I guess you got lucky.”
“Lucky would be to see if the face I am imagining is beneath the mask.”
I laugh before tutting and shaking my finger at him.
“Masks never leave the faces, Sir, let’s be honest, even if I took it off, we all wear masks in our daily lives anyway.”
He nods and smiles. “True. I don’t think this is fair though, that you get to touch me, rub your body against mine and my hands have to stay here. Because I’m guessing if I so much as inclined to touch you, alarms will sound.”
His words flow through me as I dance, and call me crazy but I like this guy. I move and place his hand on my thigh and feel him freeze before he chuckles.
“No sirens.” He looks around amazed.
“We have panic buttons. Sirens won’t start for you touching me. I keep moving and he nods, his hand staying in the same place. I move and turn with my back against him, dancing against him again.
“Scarlet, I think you may need to stop soon.” I smile hearing him, and move back against him, pushing my body against him more.
“Or, I could really work my magic, so you go home craving me.” I place his hand on my thigh again.
“I’m sure we’re breaking rules right now Scarlet, just how many would be broken if my hand decided to move up more?” I moan at his words. and slide his hand up more.
“Only one way to find out.” I release his hand and he continues to
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move it until it’s between my legs. A small moan escapes my lips as he cups my sex, and my hips roll against him, causing his fingers to rub against me. I mean, call me a whore, but I want him to touch me, I haven’t wanted anyone like this in years.
He moves quickly, lying me down on the sofa so his body is above mine. He keeps his fingers against my sex as he kisses around my breasts, before leading kisses down to the waistband of my skirt. His finger traces the tattoo there. A small scream escaping my mouth as he bites and sucks against my breast, my hips pushing up to him.
I feel his fingers push inside of me, and I move my hips against his hand. I expect him to slow down or stop, but he doesn’t instead his fingers speed up, his mouth encasing my nipple as the cries of pleasure escape my lips and I continue to grind against his fingers.
“Well, shit.” I can’t believe that just happened. I watch as he moves. back, his fingers raising to his mouth and he sucks them into it. I hear a low growl escape his lips and I go to reach for him before he quickly
stands.
“I should leave. It was nice meeting you Scarlet, maybe next time I have a few hours to wait for a meeting I will see you again.” I go to speak but he turns and walks to the door, dropping money into the bowl he walks out. My body falls back on the sofa.
I don’t even know how that happened, or why? I was right in saying call me a whore, because I literally just got off and orgasmed around some random guy’s fingers and I don’t even know his name.
Standing I sort myself out and pick up the money, there is at least three grand here? What does he do, print money? I laugh and head out, finishing my dances for the night before going home.