Fishnet stockings. Check.
A laced corset restricting my breathing ability. Check.
A pair of spiked heels that will thrash your chest if you ever cross me. Check.
And, of course, insanely dark eyeliner that screams TRAMP. Double Check. 1
Forget the underwear. 2
Hello, I’m Mara.
And welcome to the 3
~WHOREHOUSE~4
----5
You didn’t expect that greeting, now did you? You may have heard a lot about this place, considering everyone knows each other in this damn town. Some people say it’s a line not to be crossed or else you’re destined to go to hell. Honey, I’m already halfway there. Those are the little Christians with their little purity rings and whatnot. They can go ahead and follow the rules like that stupid leather bound book taught them to. Make a difference out in this “the apocalypse’s coming” world. I applaud you. Nice job. 6
Really.7
Then we have the guys that can actually make a job like this fun. Some are young, looking for a little excitement. Others are guys who just nurture their curiosity, oblivious to the consequences. And then there are the shy little fellows that are dragged in by some bachelors before the big day of commitment. The look on their faces is priceless, especially when a dancer gives them what they paid for. This is a whorehouse, after all. At least, that’s what they call it around here. 8
And of course, there are the people like me, the dancers, examining their trashy appearance in a dusty old mirror before heading to the poles for a night’s work. People call us whores, sluts, it really doesn’t matter. Let me ask them, can they make three thousand dollars in a matter of a few hours? Yes, I know the rich folks can. But, let me tell you, there isn’t an easier job than dancing on a big metal thing in the middle of the dance floor. 9
“Mara, come on girl! You have no time to be messing around with your hair! We have customers!” 10
Ah, the growl of the big, bad, wolf. Time to head out.11
“Charlie, cool it, will you? I’m here.”
“Sorry, M, but you’re our best seller and Angel’s out tonight. We need you, big time.”12
I make my way to the bar and I study the crowd tonight. I see Charlie making conversation with some of the regulars. He’s a big guy, handsome, but a bit of a hardhead at times. Around forty-something, I guess. A big turn off, his head of selfishness. No wonder he doesn’t have a wife. Or maybe it’s because he owns a stripper club in this innocent town. I can never tell. 13
My legs climb over the marble countertop easily. I’ve had way too much practice.14
In fact, I should quit this gig sometime soon. Maybe make something out of my life. Maybe then I could actually accomplish something notable. Oh, who am I kidding? It’s too much fun being a bad girl.15
“Hey honey,” 16
I hear someone greet from the end of the bar. It’s Josh. He’s a good buddy of mine. The guy that got me into this business, in fact. I admit it. I was eighteen. Young, and stupid . Three years later, I’m twenty one. Am I still young and stupid? You betcha . 17
A young, stupid, girl. That dances. 18
And makes three thousand bucks a night. And yet, people still criticize me. 19
Oh well. It’s not like it really matters.20
“Hey Josh,” I reply. “How’s business over there?”
“Ah, two fives, a six, four eights, and three nines.” 21
Josh, is your typical player. And he does nothing to hide that fact. Indeed, he embraces it. The numbers are ratings of girls, in case you couldn’t see that. And he rates every downtrodden woman that enters this bar. No, he doesn’t want a relationship. Rather, some entertainment. He doesn’t count his paychecks. Instead, his women. I guess the rating system is just part of his nature.22
“Really,” I inquire. “Find your blonde bimbo yet?”
“Of course not. Don’t you know me at all?” A mischievous smile spreads on his face like an infectious disease. 23
Typical. 24
“So,” I begin to flirt, “What would happen if I walked over there?”
“I don’t know,” comes my response. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” 25
And so I do. I hear the clicking of my own leather boots against the marble beneath my feet. One step at a time. Or else I’m going to fall off this damn ledge. My legs swing towards the man, my feet finding solid ground on the other side of the counter. Deciding to make myself comfortable, I take a seat. My movements pause and the two of us share a stare. Briefly. 26
“What do you think, my master?” Gallivant, I know. 27
The master is silent for a moment. It almost seems like he is hesitant. His pupils study my body, moving in a vertical direction each way. And his answer finally pushed its way to the edge of his lips.28
“Hmm. My slave…” the voice trailed off. “I’m going to go with…six.” Gasping, I reply, 29
“Harsh!” Josh’s smile widens to cover more territory between his cheeks. I’m surprised his lips can even stretch that far…30
“Relax. Girl, you know I think you’re a ten.”
“Huh, I was looking for ‘off the charts,’ but I guess that’ll do for now.” I glare at the master in a playful, torturous way. For a few moments, at least. He just grins. 31
And then I hear another voice coming my way. 32
“M, I’m not paying you to flirt with the bartender! Make yourself useful and play with the men at the bar!” The wolf growls again. I turn back to Josh and say,33
“Duty calls. Gotta go.” As I walk away, I hear,
“Bye, bitch.”
“Bye, player.” And with that, I smile. 34
Keep your day job fellas. 36
And then I see a man sitting at the other end of the bar. He’s dressed to the nines with a clean, white blouse and a black tie that hangs around his neck. Silk, I think.37
At first glance, heartbreak is my first guess. You don’t see anyone dressed like that to go to a party at a run down bar like this one. I’m not even sure if the “no shirt, no shoes, no service” rule applies here. Heck, people could come here as naked as cupid and nothing would be out of the ordinary. Minus the angel wings, of course.38
I study the strange man. Weird way to phrase it, huh? He toys with a buckle on his suitcase. He’s worried, I can tell. Not quite sure what to do, clueless as he sits on the barstool.39
This will be a challenge.40
I begin to move again, this time to an available pole on the floor. It’s cold, cold and enormous. I feel like a shrimp in a swallowing abyss. Leaning back, I relax for moment. People are watching with their greedy, hungry little eyes. But I pay no attention to them. There’s that man again, fidgeting like a nervous teenager on his first date. He doesn’t belong here , I tell myself, but my brain can’t seem to figure out why he slipped in here in the first place.41
Wrapping my arms around the metal structure, I seduce the pole. Back to back, moving towards the ground. 42
Leg up, and then spin. 43
I’m robotic, a machine of ribbons. I was training to be a dancer, after all. I just never thought I’d be in this hellhole more than a few months. 44
♠
What the hell am I doing here? This place doesn’t even qualify as a men’s loft where the college dropouts spend their Saturday nights chugging shots with hands of high, low and the Jack. Streetwalkers line the walls as if their part of the plaster. Obnoxious boys scream at the touchdowns on an old T. V. that still has antennas. 45
And that girl…46
She’s been watching me. Clutching that pole like it’s all she has to live for. Yet, her eyes keep drifting back to me. What does she want? 47
“What will you have buddy?” Huh? “What will you have?” the voice repeats.48
I look up and there’s a young bartender with a perplexed look on his face. Do I creep EVERYONE out at this bar? He’s a young man, I wonder if he’s even old enough to be in a place like this. 49
“Water,” I answer. “Just water.” 50
“Sir, you are aware that this is a bar, right?” What am I? Stupid? Duh, the voice inside my head assures, you have to be stupid to spend your night at a place that reeks of burnt pizza and cigarette butts... 51
I brush off his comment as if he had said nothing. My eyes travel to the other end of the counter. There’s that girl again.52
“Josh!” I hear her yell. “Who’s your little friend over there?”53
“Don’t know,” the bartender replies. “Not too many guys in here come for a glass of water.” Yes , I decide, I’m stupid. Or at least insane. The girl edges closer. 54
Up close, she looks like a cross between Evita and Velveeta. Her face has angelic quality. Her clothes however, are horrendous. Fishnet is never appealing, I think.55
“What’s your name, sweety?” she asks innocently.
“Nick,” I answer. Might as well see where this leads. 56
“Well, Nick,” she pauses to sit down, her legs as wide as they could go. “what brings you to our side of town?” 57
“Business,” comes my reply.58
“Business…” the stripper repeats. “Okay, here are your options, whoever you are. You can either buy a drink actually worth something or you can leave well enough alone and beseech at the synagogue across the street. It’s obvious you’re in the wrong place.” 59
And she walks. 60
♠61
I’m intrigued by that man. I’m not sure why, but he’s different than the others I’ve met. Maybe it’s because he might actually be sane. I haven’t been around that kind of person in a while. He’s a lot less childish than I imagined. Clueless maybe, but not stupid. He’s heading to the door by now, briefcase in hand. I’ll probably never see him again; he should be smart enough not to walk through these doors anytime soon. 62
But, what business does he have coming around here anyway? 63
♦64
“Mara, FOCUS! ” 65
“What?” Her weary answer tells me it’s going to be a long training session today. 66
“Are you alright, M?” 67
I’m truly concerned; if my star dancer doesn’t improve quickly, we might lose audience numbers at our next production. We only have three weeks. Seven dance routines can’t be memorized in that time, prior experience has taught me well.68
“I’m fine,” comes her answer. “I just had a late night at the club, that’s all.” 69
“You need to spend more time on the dance floor and less time on the poles. I’ve been telling you that forever.” And I had. She never listens though, staying true to her stubborn streak.
Adding your comment:
Cute, and I hope to see more!
