Devil in the Details

Chapter 1 - Ella

Disclaimer: This story does contain adult themes.  The themes and language are well-within PG-13 limits (and there are no sex scenes thus far), however, if you feel uncomfortable by sensual language or sexual tension or are below the age of 13, please do not read further.    Please reference Wattpad's rating system for more information/questions.

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Strolling to the glimmering, silver pole in the center of the stage, she flicked her long hair off of her bare shoulder and smirked a smile that she knew didn't touch her eyes.  They didn’t care that it wasn't a real smile.  She could just make out a few faces in the audience as she squinted past the glare of the hot stage lights.  Every one of them looked the same, night after night: Hungry.  Hungry for her, panting at every swivel of her hips, every dip in her curves, every fake, naughty smirk that failed to reach her eyes.  She shook their faces out of her mind because their hunger devoured her in a way that she didn’t want to admit to herself.  She saw other dancers and the effect that these men and their thick, leather wallets had on them.  She promised to herself a few months ago, when she first stepped into the dank, moldy club, that she would never be them. She would take this for what it was: temporary. 

“Gentlemen, feast your eyes on our newest doll, the beautiful Ella.”

A few seconds into her routine, she loosely swayed her hips and grinded against the pole, tentatively placing her the pads of her fingertips against the cold metal of it.  Parting her lips and licking them, she suddenly jumped against it and gripped the sturdy metal between her thighs as she hung upside down from it, lightly trailing her fishnet painted fingernails across her stomach.  This reminded her of being at the park as a child, hanging upside down from the monkey bars.  She smiled a quick smile as she thought of her childhood friend, a small blonde boy who she could barely remember the name of.  Brad?  Brandon?  She stowed the thought away quickly because she couldn’t afford to look quizzical during her routine. 

She loosened her grip and slid gracefully to the bottom of the pole, unwrapping her legs and walking her fingertips slowly up her bare leg, stopping as she reached the dip of the V on her body.  She allowed her lips to curve into a half smile, one that she knew the Hungry Men would probably find sexy.  Really, she was laughing in her head, thinking of how pathetic it was that she could merely touch her legs and they would begin reaching their twitching fingers towards their wallets.  She fluttered her eyelashes shut as the booming music assaulted her and the bass of it slammed against her bare body, causing goosebumps to surface on her skin.  Moments like these made her forget where she was, even if only for an instant.  Dancing was once her escape, and now it was something that she desperately needed to escape.

She twirled her fingers dramatically through her long strands of her hair and searched for the sequins strings of her bikini top that lay criss-crossed against her neck.  Slowly, almost painstakingly, she pulled against the strings so that the top melted off her body as the climax of the song surged.  The men loudly murmured their consent as they ogled her free breasts.  She cupped them softly and let them go, squinting through the lights once more to gauge their reactions.  She watched as they counted through the bills in their wallets, grabbed handfuls of bills hastily, and flung them towards her.  “Yes,” she thought wickedly.  “Finally.” 

She swooped forwards to bow seductively, her eyes never leaving the back of the room as she sauntered from one end of the stage to the other, discreetly picking up the money the Hungry Men left for her.  They clapped and cheered for her, and she smiled as she suppressed the gnawing hunger that suddenly assaulted her stomach.  She, too, was hungry, and now she would be able to eat.