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“Those are the VIP rooms. They’re set up for private parties.”
“And what goes on in a typical party?” I thumb through one of the clothing racks and see that every bra, corset, and teddy are all in my size. I try not to think too much about what I’m getting ready to do as I grab the first red ensemble that I
see.
“Oh, you know, usually bachelor parties and what not. The occasional businessman showing off for a potential client. Couples will sometimes book the room for date nights. Fire code allows a maximum of fifteen people in each room so they’re never too big. They can also be used for private lap dances although we have smaller rooms for those. The VIP spaces are reserved for clients who book an extended dance. If you’re lucky enough to be one of the girls chosen, that’s where you’ll make the most money.”
“So how much money are we talking about?” I hold the lace against my body and look in the mirror.
“The house takes a twenty-percent cut on all private dances which includes booked parties. A two-hour party costs three hundred per dancer. They can request up to three dancers per party and they pay extra for bar services. Your cut would be two-forty.”
“I’d make a hundred and twenty dollars an hour?” Holy shit! I had no idea strippers could make this much.
“For a private party, yes. Don’t get too excited, Katherine. Parties are usually only held on weekends and the client gets to choose his dancers. That spot usually goes to the more seasoned gals but you never know. We haven’t had a fresh face around here in a while. I’m sure you’ll stir some…excitement.”
I bite my lip to hold back my standard smartass reply. “So, on a typical night, how much money are we talking?”
“You’ll take the stage for two songs per shift and you’ll get tips from those,” he explains. “After that, you work the floor for private dances. Most girls aim for at least ten per night. Private dances are twenty dollars each for three minutes, so you’d take sixteen a piece. Extended dances are twenty minutes in length and cost one hundred, so you’d take home eighty.”
I do the math in my head. “So on a typical night, you’re saying I could make a couple hundred dollars?”
“Roughly, yes. On the weekends, slightly more.”
“And how many nights would I work per week?”
“Three to four nights, four-hour shifts.”
“So…you’re saying I could make roughly twenty-five hundred to three thousand dollars a month, working only twelve to sixteen hours per week? Are you for real?”
Marcus grins widely. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Katherine.”
I’m trying to school my features but I’m pretty sure he can see my excitement. Stripping is pretty much the last thing I’d want to do for a living, but my God. Can you imagine the possibilities? Not only could I easily afford to pay the bills, I’d also have money to set aside for a newer car and emergency expenses. I’d hate to admit it, but this job sounds more appealing the further I think about it.
“I’ll leave you to get dressed…you provide your own shoes and panties but we provide the rest. You’ll find everything you need in this room.” I must’ve made a face because he adds, “Don’t worry, each costume is professionally laundered after use. Most clubs don’t provide wardrobe; it’s one of the many perks of working here. Our house mother can show you some standard moves later; this performance is simply to get a feel for your stage presence. Remember, we’re an all-nude club, Katherine, so take it all off. I’ll have you work the pole first, and then we’ll move to lap dances. To make it a little less awkward considering our association, I’ll have you dance for Brandon.”
“The same Brandon that was using my couch for nefarious purposes?”
Marcus laughs. “Yes, the one and only. He’s our assistant manager. You’ll get to know Brandon well. I’ll be out front waiting. I’ll turn on the stage lighting with some music. Any requests?”
“Surprise me.”
I’m sure I’ll look back ten years from now and this will be a defining moment in my life. Whether it’s a good moment or a bad moment, has yet to be determined.
THE MAIN ROOM HAS BEEN COMPLETELY TRANSFORMED. It’s much darker now, illuminated by purple and red disco lights dancing around like fireflies. A sexy R&B song flows through the speakers, amping up the vibe. This place screams sensuality in its purest form. I’m definitely getting a lesson in humility, as I can certainly see the appeal.
I’m still standing against the dressing room door, mentally preparing myself. I’m wearing a red lace midriff tank, a matching skirted garter belt, fishnet thigh highs, and my ass is just hanging in the breeze since I’m wearing a thong. I take a deep breath and remind myself that I don’t have any other options. Especially if what Marcus said about the money is true.
I make my way over to the platform and step up to a pole. I look up and see Marcus and his associate staring at me with wide grins plastered across their faces.
“You look incredible, Katherine,” Marcus says. “Better than I imagined.”
I choose to ignore the nausea that sets in with his slimy comment. If I’m going to do this for a living, I’d better get used to it.
I hold my finger up. “We’re not using my real name.”
“So what shall we call you, my dear?”
I think about it for a second. “Red.” Yes, I know it’s twisted that I’m using the nickname Gavin gave me, but I feel it’s appropriate. Red is confident. Sexy. She knows how to make a man bend to her will. I’m trying to convince myself that using an alter ego will help me get through this.
