Lara stepped off the main stage at The Pearl, listening to the cacophony of cheers and hollering coming from the crowd behind her. She had just completed her set on the pole and could still feel the excitement and adrenaline that accompanied performing in front of so many people. Pole work was probably the weakest area of her game having only being able to practice during off hours at her old club The Pussy Cat. The pro's hadn't taken kindly to a mere waitress hogging the pole, even when the place was empty. A turf thing she assumed.
Still, she was a professional now and expected to perform, not in front of an empty room but a packed one instead. And she was improving quickly. It had been her third time on the main stage since Dave had hired her and it had been her best performance yet. She was getting more comfortable with each attempt and the patrons certainly seemed to appreciate her. She was just over a week in the place and her stints on the pole were drawing more patrons than almost anyone else. The regulars were beginning to recognise her and requests for private dances were happening more and more.
The upside of this being that she had to spend almost no time looking for targets for lap dances. They were coming to her. Meaning profitable shifts. Very profitable shifts. The downside being she was busy for most of her shifts meaning she hadn't had much time to get to know the other girls. Her meteoric rise and popularity with the patrons had been noticed and some of them didn't like the competition. She was getting some dirty looks already. She would have to remedy that. It could get out of control quickly. One dancer in particular, a voluptuous redhead named Sarah had taken a strong dislike to Lara almost instantly. Sarah had started a month before Lara and gotten that "new girl" boost that strip clubs usually experienced from the regulars who loved seeing fresh meat. Sarah had been replaced when a new sex doll had shown up.
She wasn't the favourite toy in Andy's room any more,
Lara thought with a snigger to herself.
Lara could understand it to a certain degree. A little professional jealousy at the office was normal. It was also fine to not like someone. We don't all have to be bosom buddies. But Sarah was taking it too far. Lara was convinced that Sarah had been starting rumours that she would fuck clients every night in the VIP and that she was secretly Dave's mistress and that was the only reason she was hired. And some of the other girls clearly believed it. The irony of the rumour being that Lara had heard similar tales regarding Sarah. That Sarah would do anything in the VIP, if the price was right. Sarah saw herself as competing with the other dancers and "winning" was all that mattered.
The other problem was that Lara suspected that Sarah was stealing her stuff. Her expensive moisturizer had disappeared, as had her phone. Both had been tucked away in her cubby in the changing room and had vanished. She had no proof but she felt it was obvious who had done it.
Fucking bitch,
she fumed.
Pulling her robe around her, she made her way through the back of the club towards the changing rooms. Before she could enter the door, she saw head of security Jack approaching her. Or "Handsome Jack" as some of the girls referred to him as she had come to learn.
"Hey Lara. Caught the end of your performance. Damned fine show. Really got them going," he said with a smile.
"Thanks Jack. I think the transition from my spinning allegra could have been smoother," she said thoughtfully. Jack started to chuckle and replied, "Lara don't take this the wrong way but the guys here wouldn't know an allegra from an alpaca. They're more focused on the, ye know, naked lady dancing in front of them. Don't get too caught up in the technicalities. You looked amazing."
"Nonsense!" she replied sarcastically. "Professional pole dancing adjudicators, the lot of them. A fight broke in the front row over the merits of a side saddle superman versus a brass monkey."
Jack raised an eyebrow and smirked back at her. "You just made those moves up, didn't you?"
"Maybe. Who is to say? You'll have to catch my next set and see if I they are in my routine," she said as she casually leaned against the door enjoying the back and forth.
"Wouldn't miss it," he told her. "Dave needs to see you in his office," he added, his smile faltering a bit.
Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.
"Right. Well, I better get dressed and get up there," she muttered, tightening the sash around her robe subconsciously at the mention of Dave.
"Yeah. Best not to keep him waiting. He's in a foul mood today." Jack gave her a brief nod as he turned and walked back down the hall.
A sense of foreboding tore through her as she got dressed in the changing room. She had been there over a week and hadn't been alone with the club's owner Dave since her audition. They'd had some brief conversations, sure, but always out on the floor. He had been leery and handsy but that was pretty standard. He hadn't pushed things yet. She felt it was imperative to keep their relationship professional. She was sure he absolutely did not feel the same way.
The timing did make her feel uneasy though. Why wait until now? Why today and not her second day in the place. When men like him wanted to fuck, they tended not to wait around. Self-control didn't strike her as one of Dave's strong suits. She mulled it over as she made her way towards his office. Maybe he hadn't made a move yet for fear of scaring her off? How long would that last? Would he even care if she quit? She was making the club money, more than most of the other girls.
I might be giving myself to much credit here. He has a lot of girls here. I'm ultimately replaceable,
she considered as she glided up the stairs to his office.
Perhaps he was more into the chase of the prize? The idea of conquest as opposed to the treasure itself? If that was the case, she could handle him. Push and pull. Tease and denial. If he was indeed into that, it was a game she could play well enough.
She opened the door and strolled in with confidence. The smell of his cigar hit her instantly. Dave was sitting behind his large desk, a half empty glass of whiskey on the desk. He looked up and glared at her. "Where the fuck did you learn manners, huh? In polite society we fucking knock before entering," he snarled in her direction.
"Do you want me to go back out and knock?" she shot back.
A noticeable flash of anger spread across his face for a moment but then dissolved. "Just shut the door and sit down. I have a job for you."
She shuddered a bit as she recalled the last job he had given her. Her encounter with Captain Price in the VIP room. Dave had an informal agreement with the local cops that they would ignore the goings on at the club for access to the girls.
Access,
she sneered to herself. He had fucked her face mercilessly and fired his disgusting cum down her throat. He was a pig in more than one sense of the word. She would not be repeating that under any circumstances and she needed to make that clear to Dave right here and now.
"Dave, regarding Captain Price and..." she started. He cut her off immediately.
"This isn't about our dear Captain, although I had a chat with him during our poker game on Wednesday night and he did nothing but sing your praises. Gushing, he was. The compliments were practically spurting out of him...." Dave said with a sinister smile. His innuendo was clear and not subtle.
