Virtue [H.S]

ONE

♔

Being a stripper is - believe it or not- a really difficult job. 

It's gruelling, long nights, and being stuffed like a rotisserie chicken into tiny straps of lingerie. It's waxing, and tanning, and plucking, and being forced to stay in shape, not only for the sake of being able to perform well, but also to remain alluring to the male eye. Because, really, that's what it's all about... men. 

Poor, naive, weak-willed and simple minded creatures. Taking their money sometimes brings feelings of guilt, as if I were snatching hundred dollar bills from the clutches of toddlers. 

However, despite the aches and pains and sleepless nights associated with being a stripper, it's a profession that I have found myself growing to love - all thanks to Club Virtue. 

Virtue is home of the sinful elitists, an establishment that only provides service only to upperclassmen and the wealthy. It's walls have bared witness to endless indulgent transgressions, and it's doors safely protect a vault of secrets capable of ending careers and tarnishing reputations. 

It is the Devil's den, and I have somehow found myself employed right in the centre of it. 

"Ella, are you listening to me?" 

The familiar voice of Reign forces me to tear my eyes away from my own reflection, hastily placing the tube of lipgloss in my hand onto the makeup table in front of me, shifting in my seat to face my manager fully. 

"Yes, I'm listening." I insist, giving a false, sickly-sweet smile.

"Don't smile at me like that, you might pull something." Reign huffs with an amused eye roll, instantly noticing the fake-ness of my grin. "You're on main stage tonight."

I give her a mocking salute, before getting to my feet, once again tuning out of the conversation as she begins to assign the other girls their positions for the night. I walk over to the floor length mirror on the other side of the dressing room, flattening the chin-length, platinum blonde wig that encased my natural head of dark, brown hair. 

My makeup was tacky and over-done, with thick lashes encasing my eyes, making the brown hue of my eyes appear black. After wiping away some smudged eyeliner, my fingers move the string of my robe, tugging on the silk knot, causing the garment to open. I allow it to fall to the floor, revealing the outfit beneath, or lack thereof.

I was dressed in nothing but a lacy, black corset, which pushed my cleavage almost up to my chin, and matching skimpy underwear, with my long legs wrapped in fishnet tights. The air in the room is cold on my exposed skin and I find myself shivering as I kneel downwards, beginning to fasten my platform heels to my feet, giving my towering 5 foot 8 frame extra unneeded height.

"You and me on main stage tonight," A voice hums in my ear once I pull myself upright again, and I look in the mirror to see Gwen standing over my shoulder. "Are you ready?"