good girl | 18+

chapter one - earned it

tw: this story will contain strong language, themes of violence, sex, bdsm etc. if you dislike or are sensitive to any of these themes then please do not continue reading this book.
do not read if you are not 18+
thank you.

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"Victoria? You're on in a few minutes"

"I know, I'm coming" I snapped, throwing my hairbrush onto the surface of the vanity and sighing. I was so tired that night, and didn't want to take my shift at all.

Being a stripper, everyone had a negative opinion on me. But to be honest, I didn't give a fuck- I needed the money.

I'd been at that place for two months, so I had gotten pretty used to the routines and usual visitors of the club. All of the dancers had to follow one rule- make the men smile. As long as we did that, we were doing our jobs right.

I finally got up, walking over to the door and pushing it open with my body weight. Falling through the door, I was instantly blinded by the intense flashing of the pink and red lights. I made my way over towards the stage, shielding my eyes from the warm lighting.

But then I was stopped, as some tall guy walked into me on my way. I felt a cold drink spill over my chest, and the firm grip of the man's hands as he used me as a form of support.

My natural instinct was to shove him away out of sheer frustration.
"What the fuck" I exclaimed.

The man turned to look at me, and glared for a moment, giving me a chance to identify him properly. His hair was a dark brown, to match his eyes, that reflected the flashing lights in a mesmerising way. I couldn't help but notice his clenched jaw, sharp enough to pierce leather, which was lightly layered with dark stubble. And his suit looked expensive, despite the fact that he had spilled a little whiskey on himself too.

He didn't seem to be in the best of moods, either.

"Watch it" he murmured deeply.

I scoffed. "You ran into me"

"If you weren't covering your eyes, perhaps this would not of happened" he argued back, his fist grasping his empty glass.

"Oh, fuck off" I muttered, brushing past the rather tall yet obnoxious man and heading towards the stage. People like that frustrated me the most- the ones that blame the entertainers for being in a hurry.

I really wasn't feeling it that day.

I then reached the stage where I would be performing for a little while. I dragged myself up the steps and took off my leather jacket, hot and already sweating.

The girls already onstage were having a good time, and the men watching them seemed to be generous. Piles of money were building up around them, so much that you could no longer see the floor. I was hoping to have a good night too.

Soon, the spotlight came on, making me perfectly visible to the groups of people sat around me. I took a few moments to move around, simply twirling and stepping around the pole.

As I began my routine, grabbing the pole and lifting myself into the air, I noticed the man from earlier in the corner of my eye. He was sat in a shadowed area of the room with a new drink, and staring right at me.

He didn't bother me, but I was still passive aggressive towards him. After all, his spilled whiskey left a sticky layer over my chest, which I didn't have time to clean up. And this attitude towards me a few moments ago put me in a worse mood.

As I danced, I kept on looking back towards the man- his eyes were fixated on me the entire time.

To make a little extra, I stepped down off-stage and decided to give away a few dances; sitting on men's laps and giving them a minute of pleasure.
That was the easiest way of making money but the least most enjoyable way of doing it.

I moved from man to man, collecting notes as I went along. I hated doing this sort of thing. Touching random guys made me feel so disgusting.

I was still drawn to the rude man from earlier, and couldn't help but take myself over towards him. I walked over, his stern face maintained as he took a sip of his drink.

One leg went over him, so that I was sat on his lap, and I placed my hands on his shoulders.
"Somebody needs to stop being so miserable" I mumbled, sarcastically.

He looked up at me, making eye contact as I gave him an extremely fake smile.

"You know, you haven't given me a single dollar since I started dancing" I said.

"Nothing makes you any more different from these other women" he answered. "It's nothing I haven't seen before"

I tutted. "On a budget, are we?"

"Tell me, what makes you different from all of these other girls?" he asked, raising a brow.

I thought about the question for a moment, and I began to grind on the man as I pondered. I felt his eyes watch me firmly as I tried to please him.

"I hate my job" I muttered, grasping his neck and I rubbed my warmth over his trousers. "I hate what I'm doing right now, but I need it"

"You need it" he repeated quietly. "How bad?"

"I would sell my whole body to a guy like you if it meant I could keep my apartment"

"So you're a hooker too?"

He looked at me, with an expression I could not quite decipher. Almost as if he was confused or thinking about something. I kept quiet. I didn't want to admit to being that sort of person, but there was no denying that I had slept with men for money.

I felt a sensation as the man gripped my thigh a little, pulling in a little closer so that he could talk to me in a more private matter.

"When do you finish your shift?" he questioned.

With a heavy breath, I responded.
"Midnight"

"I'll wait for you outside. Let me take you home"

I paused for a moment, unknowing of how to reply. Then I got up off his lap, his hand sliding from my leg and looked at him as I slowly walked away from him.

People told me never to trust any of the men at these places, but what was there to lose? I was never the type to do these kind of irrational things, but if he had money, I was going to get it from him, one way or another.