JOLIE
Iwas still seething hours later. Sitting at my dressing table, staring into the cracked mirror hanging in front of it, my angry thoughts whirled.
Ihated that club, and my stupid, selfish brother who only ever thought of himself since he joined it.
Ihated all of those men.
In fact, Ihatedallmen.
But especially my older brother, who rarely came home to check on the trainwreck that was our family or help out in any way other than to throw our parents acouple of grand to help them get by.
Dom, as Isaw it, basically bought his freedom from the family drama, but for those he left behind, it only made the burden bigger. Ihated him even more for that than Idid for not giving ashit about leaving us all behind.
Ihad abig family, but that didn’tmake us close in any way.
The opposite, in fact.
Growing up, my home had been aconstant blur of babies, screaming, shouting, fighting, and yeah, okay, there was alot of love too. But we fought just as much, and just as hard, as we loved. Neither was ever done passively.
Out of all of us, Dom had been the quiet one of my many siblings. He had always been excessively private. An introvert by nature. So him joining abiker club at eighteen had come as the biggest shock of all to us. Even more so than Marcel getting kicked out of high school at fifteen for punching out the nose of his dealer, who just so happened to be his gym teacher.
“You’re up in two minutes,” Violet said, sitting down on the chair next to me. She reached up and pulled off her pink wig, placing it over the wig stand and ruffling her short pixie cut. “It’sbusy out there. Ireally could have done with staying tonight,” she grumbled.
“The babysitter called again?” Iasked, standing up. Irolled my shoulders and adjusted my boobs so that they bulged out the top of my bra.
Violet had alittle girl, Kiki. She was only six and the sweetest thing ever, but with her daddy not around made working hard. Violet lived with her mom, who watched her when she could, but she worked nights at the corner store so she wasn’talways available. Pregnant at fourteen, Violet’spiece-of-shit boyfriend hadn’tstuck around to help her raise the baby they’dcreated. Instead, he’dopted to transfer schools and his parents had taken him halfway across the country, putting as much distance between him and Violet as they physically could. And he’dlet them.
“She upped and quit, if you can believe that.” Violet rolled her eyes. “Said she needed to study for aschool test or some shit. Which is ridiculous, since odds are she’sgoing to end up in the same place as us anyhow.” She cackled knowingly and turned back to her reflection, pushing her tits up to accentuate the curve of each of them. “Iswear I’mgonna need aboob job by the time I’mthirty.”
Ilaughed along with her, but part of me was glad when my name was called and Icould walk away. No one wanted to hear how their life was awaste of space, no matter how hard-faced you thought you were.
As Iheaded down the dingy corridor toward the stage, Iwondered if Violet was right. Was there any point in school? Did we all just end up here regardless? Or worse.
The lights from the stage filtered out and lit my way, and Iswitched my brain off so that Icould concentrate on the next half an hour dancing. Isucked in my stomach and stepped out like the fierce woman Iwas, putting one foot in front of the other as Isashayed my hips and owned the stage.
Violet was right: it was busy tonight. Icould already hear how full the place was. The stuffy, heated air surrounded me, the lights blinding me, restricting my view of the crowd below. Iwasn’tcomplaining though; Ipreferred it that way. No one wanted to see fifty-year-old men touching themselves under the table while they looked at you, knowing that you were young enough to be their daughter. As my song picked up tempo Igrabbed the shiny silver pole, still warm from Violet’stouch, and Iswung myself up onto it, twisting myself upside down, and Ispread my legs wide.
The heavy beat of the music pulsed over my skin, the cheers and whistles encouraging me onward as Islid down the pole before righting myself. Istood up, gripping the hot metal in my hands as Istrutted around the pole, swaying my hips as the beat picked up. Dollar bills dropped at my feet like confetti and Igrabbed the pole with both hands and pulled myself up on it again. Iwrapped my legs around the pole, sliding myself up and down it while licking my lips.
My ankles locked and Isqueezed my thighs tightly together as Ibucked my body against the metal like Iwas fucking it. The money rained down harder, every man in there imagining that it was their dick between my legs, and Igrinned out at them all, sliding my tongue along my lips as my hands grabbed my breasts and squeezed them together.
As the song began its final chorus, Ilowered myself to the stage and crawled my way over to the edge of it, my gaze on no one in particular and yet on every man in the room. Imade every man think Iwas his. Let them believe that it was their hands on my body. Their tongues in my mouth. Iwas theirs for as long as that song played. They could do what they wanted, how they wanted to, and Iwould only beg and cry for more.
Irolled over on to my back and thrust my crotch upwards, placing one finger in between my lips, Isucked it hard. The other hand splayed across my belly, going lower and lower until my fingers touched the waist of my G-string, dipping just underneath it.
The whoops and whistling grew louder and louder, almost drowning out the music as money rained down on me. Greedy hands pushed bills into the strings of my bra and panties, sneaking touches they knew weren’tallowed. But Iknew these weren’tdollar bills anymore so Ilet it slide. Ihad done good and Iwas being rewarded in tens and twenties now.
Ithrust upwards over and over, arching my back into it as the music reached acrescendo and finished. The stage went black and Iquickly rolled over onto my front, scooping up as many bills as Icould before standing back up and sauntering off stage. Idropped my money quickly into the tub next to the stage entrance, grabbed the nurse'soutfit Iwas using that night, and slipped it on quickly. It all happened in less than thirty seconds and then Iwas back on stage as the next song began and the lights rose.
My skin was glistening with sweat, my chest heaving from the exertion, and Ismiled at my captive audience. Iran to my pole, clinging to it with strong hands, and swung myself back up on it as the crowd went wild for me.
That may not have been what I’dwanted to do all my life, but Icouldn’tdeny that Ididn’tlove it. That Iwasn’tborn to be there, doing that. My body molded to the pole, bending the shiny steel to its whim as we became one. Men stared up at me in awe, wanting me, needing me. The papers in my purse meant nothing when Iwas up there. Iknew who Iwas, and what Iwanted to do.
Everything made sense when Iwas up there.
It was when Ileft the stage that it all went to hell.
“You did good up there,” Jeff said, lighting ahand-rolled cigarette.
