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“You are the hottest girl in this club tonight,” I told myself in the mirror, looking over my bright blue eyes beneath three layers of fake lashes and more mascara than anyone needed. With my ruby lips, dark hair, and porcelain skin, I knew I had to be someone’s type.
But I’d been on my shift for three hours, gotten twenty seven rejections, and had another five hours to go.
That was how it went as a stripper. Sometimes the guys wanted you, sometimes they didn’t.
It was my job to turn their no’s into yes’s, but that was easier said than done when my boyfriend of three years just dumped me and I felt like a pile of shit.
“You are the hottest girl in the club,” I said again, more sternly. I had to believe it. If I couldn’t even convince myself of that, how was I going to convince anyone else?
Mark came up behind me, his voice hard and distracted.
“You’re up after Sparkle.”
“Yea, one more song, right?”
“Yea. Same set?”
I nodded my head, pushing a bang back with a rhinestone clip as I looked over myself. I’d chosen black leather with rhinestones, and it gave me a bit of a badass edge which I appreciated. My hands ran over the flat of my stomach before I turned, looking over my ass. I was a thin girl, but toned. I stayed in shape though the gym and pole dancing. With skin as fair as mine I had to do something to stand out.
I looked up at Mark who was growing increasingly bored. It was always strange to me how desensitized the DJ could become to the sight of naked women’s bodies and tried to tell myself it wasn’t just because I looked hideous.
Self-confidence could be a real bitch.
“Same set,” I agreed, getting excited for the break in the rap and the hip-hop. Typically I was a dance and techno girl, but tonight I needed something harder and angstier.
He went back to his booth, settling in before announcing, “And that’s the hot little Sparkle! Remember, guys, you can take her for a private dance or get really intimate in the champagne room.” He tried to sound enthusiastic, but after repeating that every ten minutes or so for the last few hours, it lacked oomph.
But the moment I heard the opening chords to my first song — the rhythm pumping my heart up and making me feel so alive — I couldn’t wait to get on stage. I felt like a diva, and all the lights were on me.
I strut out to the stage, my black Maryjane stilettos carrying me steadily, fishnet tights clinging to my thighs. With each step, my leather and rhinestone skirt fluttered above the cusp of my ass, and my smile grew.
Walking up those few steps, onto the stage, I was a Goddess among men unworthy of my attention.
No longer was I sweet little Alice. No, I had fully become Ruby, and my clear eyes met each of those in the crowd.
Long legs carried me towards the pole, the thing I was most confident about. I wanted to start out slow, though, like the beat of the music before the crescendo. My spine pressed against the pole as I looked out to the crowd, my legs parted as I let my body roll down the pole’s length before I was on my knees. Crawling forward, I pushed my ass back.
Guys loved that. It looked like I was taking them doggy style, and I could make my face contort into such a wanton expression of pleasure.
I practically moaned against the music as I rolled onto my back, arching it and letting them look me over as I writhed against the ground. My hands ran over my bare stomach, up to cup my breasts, squeezing them a little as my face tilted towards the crowd.
Most of them were still rather ambivalent and I had a moment of despair before I caught the eyes of the night manager, Tom, talking to someone I’d not seen before. And it wasn’t the usual conversation. It was friendly, cordial, and the other man looked good.
High class.
I licked my lips and pushed down my fear of rejection, standing before instantly going up on the pole.
I had a target now. Someone to perform for.
Crawling up that large pole got the attention of some of the crowd, my toned thighs gripping the pole between them as I wriggled. My smile broadened with the growing attention, and the beat got louder, faster. It was all working together to build to something amazing, and I let my body drop so I was upside down, clasped onto the pole with only my legs.
My hands went to my back, fingers working at the bra clasp before I got it open. I gathered the bra before it could reveal my breasts, though, because I wanted to tease. For them to know how close they were to seeing my perky tits and the hard, pink nipples beneath.
More than that, I wanted to get the attention of my target.
It didn’t take long. One of the men in the crowd was getting impatient and cried out for me to, “Take it off!”
The target looked at me, watched as I smiled at him and l
et that bra drop away from my chest.
I hoisted myself back up, spinning around the pole, and performing such a beautiful little act for him. I was powerful on the pole, that was where I felt most at home, and once I had him in my snare, I knew he would be captivated.
He clasped his hand on Tom’s shoulder, motioning to me, and there was a soft conversation before Tom gave him a nod and moved towards the side of the stage.
