Page 3 of Dancing for the Minotaur

“A Minotaur,” Terra repeated. “You know—a bull’s head on a man’s body? That’s what it’s called.”

“Oh, right…but his face isn’t completely like a bull’s. I mean, his nose and ears are kind of like a bull’s, but his eyes are almost human.” Crystal shivered. “That’s what makes him so creepy—the almost part.”

“I know—if he was all bull or all man, it would be one thing but he’s like…half and half, you know?” Candy made a face. “Ugh!”

Terra was just about to ask when they’d had time to get a good look at the big Monstrum’s face when a new voice cut through the girlish chatter and the thumping music from the stage.

“All right, girls—I need a volunteer.” It was Marty, the Club Manager—the same one who had hired Terra six months ago when she had come in looking for a waitressing job. He was a big guy—which was good, since he sometimes doubled as a bouncer—with a shiny bald head and a diamond earring in one ear. Tonight he was wearing his usual uniform of tight jeans and a black muscle shirt that showed off his bulging biceps.

“What is it, Marty? What do you need?” Crystal fluttered her long, fake lashes.

“And how much does it pay?” Candy demanded.

“New group just came in—bachelor party,” Marty said shortly. “The groom-to-be wants to treat his friend to a lap dance and he says he’ll pay double the usual rate.”

“Me, me! I’ll do it!” Candy exclaimed.

“No, me—I’m sure he’d rather have a redhead,” Crystal protested.

“Before you get too eager, let me tell you who the customer is—it’s the Monstrum guy in the back—the one with horns,” Marty told them.

“Eww!” Both girls drew away at once, clutching at each other. “No way, Marty—find somebody else!” Candy made a disgusted face. “I’m not an animal-fucker!”

“He’s not an animal and nobody said you had to fuck him.” Marty sounded exasperated.

“But he looks like an animal—like one of those Mino-things!” Crystal exclaimed.

“Minotaur,” Terra reminded her. She looked at Marty. “How much did you say they’re offering?”

“Double the usual rate. And a nice tip if you show his friend a good time.” The manager raised his eyebrows. “You up for it, Terra?”

Terra took a deep breath. Was she up for this? Not really, she admitted to herself. But she needed the money. Her car needed that new alternator, and her savings account was about to have a negative balance once she paid for it—she couldn’t afford to be picky.

Plus, at least the lap dance wasn’t for Viktor Orlov. Orlov was an older guy who had been pestering Terra lately. He came to her shows regularly and had gotten so handsy during the last lap dance she’d given him, that she refused to dance for him again. She’d been relieved when she looked out into the crowd and hadn’t seen his distinctive black hair with a white stripe on one side. The other girls giggled and said the stripe made Orlov look like a skunk but Terra didn’t think there was anything funny about him. He had a cold intensity that gave her the creeps.

“Well, are you up for it?” her manager asked again.

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” she said, keeping her voice even. “At least he’s not Orlov.”

“You oughta be nice to Mr. Orlov.” Marty pointed a finger at her warningly. “He spends a lot of money in here.”

“Right, I know,” Terra said impatiently. “So what about the minotaur guy? Do you know his name?”

Marty shook his head.

“Sorry, no. But it’s not like you can mistake him for anyone else.”

“Yeah—he’s the only Mino-thingy in the club!” Crystal exclaimed and she and Candy dissolved into giggles.

“You two behave, I’m sure he’s a nice guy,” Terra said, pointing at them. “He probably feels just as uncomfortable being here as you two are seeing him in the club.”

She hoped the big Monstrum was a nice guy, anyway. Otherwise, this might turn into a sticky situation.

“Yeah, right!” Candy sounded skeptical. “Just be careful, Terra—don’t let him poke you with his horns!”

“I’m sure that’s not the part he wants to poke her with!” Crystal said and the two of them dissolved into helpless giggles again.

Shaking her head, Terra followed Marty past the stage and down into the audience. This was either going to be the best or worst lap dance she’d ever given, she thought. But either way, it was certainly going to be memorable.