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Not one person who works in this hole in the ground is sober. We all have a vice and Queen's is the little travel sized vodka bottles you'd find in a cheap motel's bar fridge. She downs about five in a row before she hits the stage and then another three when she gets off. I don't judge, I get it, I need this shit to help me walk out there, too.
I was supposed to become a famous dancer, travel the world, marry prestigious, and raise little brats. Things change in a heartbeat with the entertainment business and you can go from slurping caviar to ramen noodles in an instant.
"I wonder if Carl will be having his annual meeting tonight." Queen hums. "Those men really are delectable."
"You've worked one of these meetings?" I ask, finally finding someone who will tell me something. "What has Sky so afraid of them?"
"Sky's a little pussy." Queen sneers and I roll my eyes. "If I still had a little pussy, I'd be out there tonight, too." Gross.
"There must be a reason she doesn't want to be there." I press and Queen chugs back one of her mini bottles.
"They sometimes hire the girls for private shows and some of them never come back."
"Like they go missing?" I gasp.
"No girl, I would assume they pay them well enough that they don't need to come back. One stint lasted three days and five girls were paid fifteen g's each. One of them didn't come back, she wasn't here long anyways. You should ask Tiny, she was there."
Tiny, she's our plus sized stripper and let me tell you, she can work a pole better than most here.
"Tiny went?" I question.
"Yeah, one of the guys has a thing for big girls." She shrugs.
Tiny is back on shift tomorrow, I won't be able to question her tonight before the meeting but I'll be able to rest my curiosity about the whole thing tomorrow.
"Temp!" Freight calls out from the corridor. "You're up."
Freight is our security and lives up to the name we've given him. He's as big as a Mack truck and will run anyone down that tries to harm us. He's the reason I feel safe staying here late because he walks each of us to our cars at night.
I stand and readjust my black bikini top and turn to study my assless chaps. I'm wearing the smallest G-string known to fucking man because we can't get completely naked in New York, but you can be damn sure pussy lip slips are a thing. I grab my cowgirl hat on the way out and wink at Freight.
"Save a horse, ride a cowgirl?" I ask him.
His mouth twitches with the beginning of a grin and I chuckle. It's the most I've ever gotten him to smile.
Big & Rich's Save a Horse starts playing on the sound system and Mouth-our MC-growls into the mic.
"It's that time again, folks." He croons. "She's oiled, she's primed, and you best believe she's going to be leaving this stage wet."
"Ew," I mutter. "Can he be any skeevier?"
"Yeah, he can." Freight nods, his voice deep.
The lights drop low and fog begins to rise from under the stage, slowly rolling over it.
"Tempest Skeigh." Mouth moans over the mic and I gag.
I part the curtain and slowly strut out on stage, my hat low covering my upper face. I walk right up to the edge and see feet below me, looks like I've brought in enough to occupy the front row. I slowly rotate my hips back, running my hand down my torso and over my mound. Then the music picks up and I grab my pussy, gyrating into my hand as I throw my hat out to the crowd. One of the bar hop girls will grab it for me later.
My jet-black hair tumbles in waves down my back as I swing around and drop to my knees. I let my legs slowly slide apart, giving them a full show of my ass and pussy, then leisurely crawl towards the pole. A few men call out and some whistle as I reach up for the pole, dragging myself to standing.
I twirl around it once and then stop, the pole at my back and my back to the crowd. I arch and press my ass against the steel, letting the pole glide between my ass cheeks. The cool metal meets the sensitive skin between my cheeks as I gradually drop forward and twerk my ass against the pole.
The crowd erupts with hoots and hollers, as the paper bills hit the stage. It doesn't take much to gain a man's attention, the work comes with trying to keep it, and that is what's made me so damn popular.
I turn around and shoot the crowd a wink as I rotate my wrist above my head, like I'm readying a lasso. I run my other hand back down my torso and flick open the button on the front.
"Please fuck me, beautiful." An older man pants at the front of the stage.
