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“Tonight, we have a very special treat for you gentlemen,” the DJ continues. “We have a new girl for you. Please welcome the lovely, the vivacious, Echo!!”
I release my breath and put on my game face. The other night, this place had been empty and dark. Tonight, the lights illuminate the room, making it look like a kinky Wonderland. Which I suppose it is, in a way.
Earlier Dee requested a list of songs from me, but until the first beat hit, I have no clue what song the DJ will choose. When the opening chords of Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Fire’ comes on over the speaker, I grin wider, chuckling as I look at the flames running down my body.
Well, here we go.
Stepping out, I actually hear a few small gasps as the stage lights hit my body. I can imagine the effect is amazing and I feel myself relaxing in the familiar setting. My body knows exactly what to do, moving and twisting to the beat. My legs slide up the pole, reunited with their old friend.
Apparently, stripping is just like riding a bike and isn’t something you forget.
By the end of the song, I have picked out a few in the crowd that seem into me. Picking up the bills dropped, I step offstage as the DJ announces the next set. Dee is standing there waiting for me.
Despite myself, I’m eager to see what she has to say about my set. Other than some hotel room dancing and the other night’s ‘audition’, it’s been years since I moved my body this way. By the crowd's reaction, I would say I did pretty damn well, but men are also relatively easy to please in this way.
When I get up to her, she hands me a light robe and gives me a small nod.
“You have five minutes, then I want you working the floor,” she tells me, turning to walk away without waiting to see if I’ll follow. “Push the tequila, and you have any problems, you call out. Joe and Mark are out front tonight. Pedro and Liam are walking around inside keeping an eye on things. James manages them all, so he’ll be around but usually upstairs.”
We get to the back and she points to a small fridge.
“Water in there, you good?”
“Yup,” I assure her, grabbing a bottle of water. “I’ll be right back out.”
Dee walks back out onto the floor, and I have to hide a smile in my drink. She seems to be close with Neil and the guys, though I still don’t quite know what this ‘master’ business is about.
Is or was she their sub or something? Either way, I know getting close to her is going to benefit me if I am going to figure out my opportunities to get closer to my marks. It’s a bit of a shame, because I probably would have liked Dee under different circumstances.
I check my makeup, impressed that it stayed on so well even with all the movement and sweat. I make a mental note to ask Arturo where he gets his setting spray.
As I’m standing there, a small group of girls walk by, led by the stunning blonde swan who looks like she stepped out of the pages of a magazine. I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to any of the girls, though I’ve gotten a few curious looks.
Strip clubs are pretty much one way or another when it comes to its workers. They are either tight knit, close, almost a family. Or you end up in a cutthroat and ruthless competition. Based on the look I’m getting from Blondie right now, I’d guess the latter applies here.
The blonde looks at me like she wants to set me on fire, literally turning her nose up and scoffing as she passes. I smirk at the familiarity of stripper politics.
“Guess they’re letting old ladies in now too,” she says, not quietly, to one of her friends.
My eyes narrow, but I smile. Dumb bitch going to have to do better than that if she wants to get under my skin. Lucky for her, I’m not feeling too murderous right now.
One of her friends turns back and sees the look I’m giving her. Her eyes widen at what she sees there. I wink at her and put the bottle down.
Feeling fantastic, I make my way out onto the floor.
The rest of the night goes by in a blur. It’s always an interesting time starting anywhere. Getting used to the regulars and who is here to see which girl. I’ve never been above the competition aspect of this job, but for now, I really do need to try to stay subtle and not make waves until the time is right. So I ignore the men I can tell other girls are with.
Closer to closing time, I head up to the bar, ready to get a real drink instead of a fruit cocktail. Apparently, whenever the girls are asked if they want a drink, they order the most expensive one—a fifteen-dollar fruity monstrosity. The bartender then proceeds to make the drink, without alcohol, and serves it to us.
The girls make some money, the club makes a great margin—especially without liquor—and the client feels like a big man for buying a pretty girl a drink. Win, win, win. Consequently, I’ve only had one real drink all night.
“Hey, Kill, can I get a shot of Patron and a beer?”
He nods, turning to get them and giving me a perfect and shameless opportunity to check out his ass. When he turns, he catches me looking and I only wink. He rolls his eyes and I laugh.
“Oh, come on, I couldn’t resist! You have a nice ass, so consider it a compliment,” I tease. The corner of his lip quirks up as he slides the drinks across the bar.
“So, how’s the first night?” he asks, actually stopping to wait for my response.
