BookWarnings: This chapter, book, and all future books in the series may contain adult themes such as:
Sex/ Sexual Themes
Drug Use
Alcohol Consumption
Abuse (consensual & Non-consensual)
Age Gaps
Poly/Multi-Partner Relationship
Reverse Harems
BDSM
Body Image (Euphoria & dysphoria)
Read at your own discretion.
When I turned 17, my top priority was to "grow up" and become independent as soon as possible. To me, true independence meant never having to ask my parents for money even though they were more than willing to provide it, with a cost. I hated the fact that they paid for my car, my senior dues, and my food. I only hated it because my father used it as a weapon to control what I did (or didn't get to do in most cases) and when I did it. It was his way of dictating my path in life and I desperately needed to break free. As a high schooler at the beginning of my last year, I had a shitty job slinging wheatgrass at a juice bar. I even got a grant to help cut the cost of schooling, but trying to live in Los Angeles wasn't cheap.
My meager income wasn't nearly enough to survive on my own let alone try to pry myself from under the thumb of my father, and it drove me nuts. He had always been a stern man and even throughout my childhood he rarely let me do anything.
My father ran a tight ship leaving little to no room for mistakes under his military thumb. This caused me to always be a pretty repressed young lady. I'd made perfect grades in school, kept respectable hobbies, went to teen bible study, and did whatever else kept our family seemingly picture-perfect. Not much had changed since my childhood. I still basically had to make a PowerPoint slide as to why I needed money for anything that wasn't a basic need and even with a good reason, I still had a high possibility of being told no and hearing a lecture. When I was a child I couldn't do much about it but as a newly forming adult, it slowly began to infuriate me leaving me feeling so infantilized and trapped.
Just after my 18th birthday, I saw an ad for an "amateur night" contest at a pretty popular strip club a few cities away from mine on social media. I had initially swiped away from the ad but it was something about the idea of exotic dancing that captivated my imagination. I was intrigued and I couldn't get the idea out of my head.
The amateur night was a few weeks away, so I slowly built up to the idea. Playing around with it. First I bought myself some 6-inch platform heels, light pink in color, using my juice bar money. I snuck them in the house as to not have to explain their existence to my parents. I practiced walking around my room in them for a few days, strengthening my ankles and confidence while wearing them.
Once I was feeling a little more secure I went and got myself a lacy lingerie set, something a little more risqué than Victoria Secret I had in the dresser. As soon as I'd bought the frilly thing from the mall I rushed home to try it on with the heels. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror for what could have been hours, analyzing every inch of my frame, and for a second I couldn't believe it was me looking back. I had always been a late bloomer, but when my body did begin to change it had done so overnight without my knowledge. It was like one night over the summer I'd gotten hips, ass, and breasts for a gift the next morning. I'd dropped almost all of my baby weight except in my hips and thighs giving me a nice shape. Cheerleading and high school gym class kept me fit, tummy flat. Every inch of me now felt accentuated by the red laced bra and panties, the heels made my legs look long and lean. I not only looked beautiful but I felt it too, I loved my body. Looking at myself in the mirror that night would bring to the surface a new part of me. Like a little devil resting on my shoulder, always whispering, baiting me into doing things I normally wouldn't do. It caused an intoxicating mix of exhilaration inside me for the amateur night. All the sneaking around I had done up to this point had left the taste of rebellion on my tongue and I wasn't ashamed to say I was hungry for more of it.
I spent the rest of the week picking a song to dance to and practicing in my heels so by the time the weekend came I'd be ready.
When the big day did come I couldn't lie and say I wasn't nervous all day. I could barely get through my normal activities without my belly bursting with worried butterflies. When the time got closer I took a shower, blow-dried my hair, sprayed myself with perfume, and dressed in a soft pink sweatsuit. I packed the little lingerie set and heels into a duffel bag before I headed out of the house. I luckily didn't need an excuse for my parents tonight because my mom was working late at the hospital overnight and my dad was away on a business trip.
The drive wasn't very long and before I knew it I was standing backstage completely terrified. I wasn't scared because I was about to expose my body to a room full of strangers, but because I was convinced I would trip and fall in front of those strangers, embarrassing myself but the moment I stepped onstage that other side of me seemed to take over with ease. I wasn't the boring quiet Zela anymore. Zela, who was kept in the shadows. To be seen and not heard. Not tonight.
Tonight on this pole in front of all these men, I demanded to be seen, heard, felt without being touched. To be leered at and fantasied about. All of it fed the dark side of me as my hands wrapped around the cool metal pole, the bass of Rosenfled's 'Do It For Me' pounding through the club's speakers. It felt so easy to slip into this character, a rush I didn't understand fully yet but felt so good.
Turns out, I was a total natural too. By the end of my dance, I had been showered with more money than I'd expected. 10s and 20s piling up around my feet and the pole the rush of adrenaline was indescribable. I didn't know then but without a doubt, this one moment in my life was about to dramatically shift everything I would know as normal.
I ended up winning second place, competing against several dancers who were far from "amateurs" like a was. I was riding on cloud nine when they called my name.
By the time I was off the stage I was approached by a few dancers in the locker room, complimenting my performance. A tall blonde in sparkly platforms and matching panties walks up behind my chair looking at me in the mirror I was facing. She was skinny, with green eyes, and was topless with a mean mug that said not to fuck with her. I was a little nervous, not wanting to get into it with anyone but the worry faded when she grinned at me a little.
"You're pretty good for an amateur. I would think you were lying about being a newbie if you didn't have on this ridiculous outfit." Blondie says with a little laugh. A redhead with a pixie cut walks into the locker room with thigh garters on, each stuffed full of green bills.
"I know you're not talking Lex," She laughs. "You came in here in a dance gown with zero pole skills. Drove me crazy in training." She confessed as she frees some of the ones from her glittered body as she looks over at me. Lexi laughs and rolls her eyes.
"Yeah yeah I was a little country but I wasn't that much of a pain," Lex tells pixie cut who is the one to roll her eyes this time before looking at me. "What's your name?"
I thought about it for a second knowing that I shouldn't use my real full name. I hadn't thought beforehand of a stage name, never needed one until now I assume.
"Zee." I heard myself say and the pixie cut girl smiled at me.
"It's nice to meet you, Zee, I'm Dani and you've met Lexi. You really should get you some proper dancewear. You'll be more comfortable the whole night. A sexy little pink set would be a moneymaker on you." She explains to me and I blush a little, shaking my head. I could not come back here. My mother would murder me, bring me back to life, and murder me again if she found out I was here, let alone trying to work here. I would hate to even think about what my dad would do.
"Who needs to know?" The little devil whispered in my ear but I ignored it.
"Oh, this was just a one-time thing," I tell her, shaking my head slightly as if to shake the idea loose from my brain. This was a one-time thing for me. Just something I needed to get out of my system and now everything would return to how it had always been. Right? Just as the thought crosses my mind a man comes into the dressing room. He is well dressed in an expensive suit and red Jordans, his gold watch catching the light of the vanity mirrors making it dance. I recognized him from Instagram, Dominik, who goes by Papí. He was the owner of this club, Oz Gentlemen's Club, which was listed as one of the top 100 clubs in the US. The first thing I noticed before anything was how good-looking he was. His arrival commanded attention and was followed in by an air of dominance that could be considered pretty intimidating.
Mostly though, I was intrigued.
He held a black plastic bag in his large ringed fingers. As he approached me he gave me a wolfish grin that spread across his chiseled features. As soon as our eyes met I felt electricity pulse through me, like someone striking me with lighting. The little devil on my shoulder was practically hitting cartwheels at the sight of him as my skin prickled uncomfortably, making me squirm slightly. As the distance closed to nothing between us, I watched his chocolate eyes take in my features. I watched him start at my white manicured toes in the platform heels I still wore and work his way up my bare legs. His eyes traced the outline of my curves like a road map and for a brief moment, I could almost physically feel his eyes grace slowly over my thighs, hips, stomach, and breasts before finally resting his eyes on mine. I could easily see the visual image he painted of me naked behind his eyes along with something I could only describe as hunger. I could see the outline of his muscles under the high thread count suit jacket, tattoos peeking from under the armholes of his shirt and the collar. He was older than me but I was sure it wasn't by much, his early twenties maybe. Knowing that still didn't stop me from wanting to see the tattoos hiding just below, out of eye reach. To trace my fingers over the dark black ink. To have him touch me in return.
Enough brain! I had to get a grip.
We stare at each other, sizing each other up and we don't look away until a dancer drops her makeup bag on the other side of the dressing room, eyeshadow palettes and brushes clattering everywhere. We both look over as some of the other girls help her gather them up. I hadn't realized how hard my heart was beating until now and I worked on trying to calm it down. Dominik clears his throat a little, calling my attention back to him.
"Here's your winnings." He says in a cool tone as he hands over the bag. I take it bc from him, our hands brushing each other for a moment, before peering inside to see more than just the $400 2nd place prize money. I looked back up at him a little confused.
"It's the prize money plus the tips you earned on stage. Of course, a small tip out went to the club but the rest is yours. Pretty good for a rookie." He praises me and for some reason, this erupts butterflies in my stomach.
Play it cool Zela.
"Right," Is all the response I can manage as I tie the bag closed. Way to play it cool.
"You don't seem like the type of girl to end up in Oz." He says and I can tell he is telling me instead of asking me. "Not by accident."
I compose myself as I look back up at him as I gave 'playing it cool' another try, which is almost impossible under the heat of his gaze on me. I thought about character I was playing on stage. I thought about how bold and confident she was and decided that I'd do what I'd think she would.
"Maybe it wasn't by accident. Maybe I followed a white rabbit inside." I retorted in a sweet voice, keeping eye contact with him. I bat my lashes like a little flirt with a grin of my own. I could tell that flirting came naturally to him. Of course, when you look like a Greek god reincarnated, I was sure women were tripping over themselves just to breathe the same air as him. The real me probably would have but not Zee. Zee didn't need to budge for a man's attention. I wouldn't be hot and horny for his attention if I could help it but I was willing to play the flirt game too, even though I hadn't the slightest idea what I was doing. I just wouldn't let him know that. His grin is wicked as he looks down at me and I can't lie and say that it didn't inject a hefty dose of red hot adrenaline directly into my veins.
Fuck, he knew what he was doing when he looked that way and even after my speech my body was still playing right into his charms as a blush creeps up my cheeks. I bite my lip to refrain from the goofy grin that threatened my features.
He glances down at my lips as I tug at them with my teeth. I watch his pink tongue darting out slowly to lick across his bottom lip and the sight of it was almost enough to say,
'Fuck it, take me.'
He met my eyes once more before looking away with a sly smile and I wonder if he read the thought right out of my mind. "Well Bunny, The Oz does have a way of calling to the desires of the most surprising of patrons and performers alike. If you're looking to stick around we are looking for some more girls. We offer onsite training for all the....attractions featured here. Invite-only Auditions are being held next Thursday night...if you're interested swing by, I'll leave your name on the list." He tells her and his deep voice vibrates through her like the clearest bell and I must have had some look on my face that makes him laugh a little.
Milk and Honey to the ears.
The sound is infectious, making me laugh a little too. His phone interrupts the moment though, a notification going off and he sighs a little as he checks it.
"You'd think with a co-owner things would run a lot smoother around here. Well, it was a pleasure to watch you dance tonight. Maybe I'll see it again some time." He informs me with a wink before vanishing through the beaded door frame.
He'd watched me dance. I hadn't the slightest idea as to why that left me feeling warm throughout my entire being but it had.
"Well, that was hot and heavy. For a minute there I thought you guys were gonna rip each other's clothes off and start doing it right here and now." Lexi says as she peeks around the opposite side of the vanity tables I was standing by.
"I wouldn't even blame you either. That man is fine!" Dani says from the lockers. She had gone and changed out of her dancewear and into street clothes. She had heard it all from the stalls as she dressed in some shorts, a sweatshirt, and some sneakers, ready to go home. "I think he likes him some you, bunny." She teased and we giggled a little.
"Mhm! I have never seen him hand deliver earnings to a second-place winner and then offer them an audition spot to join the club? Rare. It's tough as hell to get a job here without references or years of dancing under your belt." Lexi adds on with raised eyebrows to emphasize her point. "You'd be a fool not to come and audition."
"I don't know. It was supposed to be a one-time thing. I'm still in school." I admit but I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince them or myself. Dani comes over to me with a hand on her hip.
"Look, I'm gonna be real with you because I like you. This life isn't for everyone and if you want to keep going on living whatever normal life you've been living before tonight then that's fine too but you'll never forget what you felt tonight. The rush. The power. We all saw you up there and that feeling isn't gonna just go away and if you're not careful you'll spend your whole life chasing that feeling. So if you do decide that you want to feel that feeling again, it might as well be here at the number one club in Cali." Dani says and each word she says weighs heavy on me. She was right, I had felt alive and in control for the first time in years. Dani blows me a kiss before she and Lexi make their way out of the locker room together leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I put the bag of money inside of my duffel bag, zipped it closed, dressed in my jogging suit, and put on my shoes. I pulled my jacket on and made my way out to the cool night air toward my car. I drove all the way home in silence, my brain still rattling with all that had happened tonight. When I got home the house was still empty, my parents at work, so I made my way up to my room throwing my duffel on the bed before stripping out all my clothes. I stuffed the lingerie in the back of my closet before going to start the shower.
After relaxing my muscles for about thirty minutes in the scorching hot shower and washing clean, I pulled on a t-shirt and some panties, wrapping my hair in a wet bun. I walked to the bottom of my bed frame and lifted the mattress reaching into the box spring to pull out a medium-sized pink tin box. I dropped the mattress flat and climbed onto my bed, sitting the box in front of me before opening up the lid. Inside was my stash of weed and all my paraphernalia: my grinder, ashtray, backwoods, and pink lighter. On nights like this when my parents were working late or weren't coming home I liked to smoke and listen to music in my room with the door closed.
Tonight, I wasted no time grinding down a bud of weed and rolling up a nice-sized backwood to try and clear my head. I flicked my lighter a couple of times until the flames flicked bright orange-red, lighting the blunt. I inhaled thick clouds of fruity-flavored smoke before blowing it out coughing a little. After a couple of hits, I look over at the little duffel bag on the corner of my bed thinking about the money from the club. Curiously I pulled it open, freeing the plastic bag from inside. I untied the light knot in the top before inverting the bag and pouring the bills onto my bed. As I smoked I counted each bill one by one, organizing and stacking them up. By the time I was finished, I couldn't believe what I was looking at.
$879, double what I was expecting and then some.
I took another long pull of the blunt as my brain reeled. If my calculations were right, I was looking at two and a half weeks' worth of work at my shitty job. A sum of money I would have had to work overly hard for, I made in just a night, hell in just one dance at Oz. I couldn't help the nagging thought that I was seriously in the wrong profession and that I really would be a fool not to go to that audition. The thought of seeing Dominik again was appealing but I was really about to go from church mouse to stripper? I wondered what people would think of me if they found out. Was there even a way to balance both lives?
I put the last bit of the blunt out in the ashtray before opening the window a little to air out my room. I sigh dramatically as I fall back into my pillows. The events of the day finally began to catch up with my body as the weed helped lower my body's adrenaline high. I was exhausted. I placed all my weed stuff back into the tin box before closing it and slipping it under the bed, too lazy to put it in its rightful place back under the mattress. I shoved all the rubber-banded bundles of money under my pillow till morning, not wanting my mother to bust into my room unannounced and see it. I slipped under my comforter and sighed a little more as I let my body be lulled into a dreamless state of sleep.
***
Hi,
Dani here! I'm just getting back into writing and have had this story idea in my head for a while so what better place to put it then right here. Let me know what you think about the first chapter and hopefully many more to come. Finger Crossed!
X
DumBuni