8:45 PM, the dressing room is buzzing, everyone is putting the finishing touches on their make-up. Most of the girls are already in costume, g-strings, pasties, and high heels or boots are standard for all the girls. They individualize their outfits from there, the usual stuff you see at a gentleman's club, cowgirl hats and vests, French Maid outfits, leather dominatrix corsets, and schoolgirl tops and skirts.
You decided to go with the schoolgirl look. Since your stage name is Pollyanna, you thought a schoolgirl theme was most fitting.
Nervously, you look around the dressing room wondering, "
What the fuck am I doing here?"
Everyone is at least 15 years younger than you are, at 39 you could be most of the girls' mother. How much had you been drinking when you let the club owner talk you into this? Was it really just the money? Things have been tight since the divorce and being a single mom in today's economy is so hard. Child support is practically nonexistent from your ex-husband. Everything in your marriage went downhill when your daughter was born. He wanted a boy so badly, and when she was born, he treated both of you like crap. He was already controlling, and after you had Rachel, he was verbally abusive and controlling. All he cared about was dealing crystal meth and his pitbulls. He couldn't keep a steady job, and when the police raided your home, you finally had enough, putting him out for good.
But, how did you wind up in the dressing room of a strip club? After all, working for My Mortgage Inc. for over 15 years has had its advantages. The money is good and the benefits are excellent. Working as a loan officer when you first started and then in the underwriting department was actually fun. But, the move to the collections department has been inconvenient to say the least. The two-hour commute to the new office is really taking its toll on you. Mom and Dad have been helping a lot however, watching Rachel in the evenings until you get home, and filling up your fridge with groceries whenever they come over is a real big help as well. It just seems like the bills never stop coming though. Rachel is growing so fast, you're buying new clothes for her every month, and with dance class, soccer, and piano lessons on top of the usual bills, there's just not enough to make ends meet.
When he approached you three weeks ago, Marcus, the club owner, said, "On Friday nights you can make $500 easy, and Saturdays close to $1000 without having to spread your legs or suck a single cock. Of course, if you're willing to do that, you can make a lot more; just don't do that shit in my club. If I get shut down and lose my license because one of my girls is trying to make some extra cash on the side, they are a dead girl, is that clear?"
$1500 for a weekend of work could go a long way towards getting you out of your financial hole, even if it is only $700 a weekend, it will be a big help. It took you a week to decide to try it. Besides, your friend, Mary, had been begging you for weeks to take that pole dancing class with her last year. You took it just to get her to stop nagging you and now it looks like it's finally going to pay off. When you said yes, you told Marcus you were only going to commit to three months and re-evaluate the situation from there. You were surprised that he agreed to it and were actually hoping he would say no as your way out.
8:55 PM, the first girl goes on at 9, eight minutes of dancing, two minutes to work the crowd, then a five minute break before the next girl comes on. You are the fourth girl out tonight, Pollyanna. The soft lighting in the dressing room really brings out the beautiful features of your face. The green eye shadow matches your plaid skirt and the pink blush highlights your high cheekbones nicely. Putting on the pink lipstick and playfully pouting in the mirror, you move your head from side to side, your two ponytails, tied with pink ribbons start to swing freely.
Sitting there you think,
"Yeah, a 39 year old school girl, who the fuck is going to give me any money to watch me shake my tits and ass tonight?"
Your nipples perk up as you tie your white blouse in a loose knot under your 34C breasts. Even after having Rachel, they are still pretty firm and perky, only dropping a little from breastfeeding and age. The pasties are glued on, you're not quite ready to bare it all on stage, and you can't risk being arrested either, it would cost you your real job if you did. The short plaid skirt barely covers your ass, which is still well toned even though your ex is always calling you, "lard ass," and telling you that you have a big butt. You briefly think about how long its been since a pair of strong hands cupped your ass. Ever since the divorce, you have been too focused to get involved with anyone.
The white knee-high stockings cover your nice calves. Your legs have always been your strong suit, very shapely, and wearing heels for so long has really brought out your calves. Patrick at work is always checking them out. He doesn't know you see him, but whenever you wear a dress or a skirt he turns around from his computer a lot more than usual. Asking questions you know he knows the answers to, they're just an excuse for him to peek at your legs.
9:35 PM, you're up next in five minutes. Standing by the stage, you go over your routine in your head, a high-energy start, dancing to Bring Me to Life by Evanescence followed by a slow grind to Jezebel by Sade. Mary had a pole installed in her basement after the dance lessons the two of you took and you've been practicing for two weeks, getting everything down. The butterflies you used to get before playing with your band in college, years ago, are back. The DJ begins to introduce you as you wait.
"Gentleman, remember your childhood girlfriend from Catholic school, the one that wasn't scared of worms and could run just as fast as you? She knew how to throw a baseball and always wore her cap on backwards as if she was one of the guys? Well, she's all grown up now and filled out in all the right places, but she still loves to wear her outfit from school. Everyone, make some noise for, POLLYANNA, the hottest school girl to ever grace our stage."
Prancing onto the stage as the music starts you go through your routine flawlessly. Teasing the men as you dance to Bring Me to Life, shaking your ass and tits as you move, just giving them flashes of your breasts, setting them up for Jezebel. When Sade begins to sing, you drop your top and skirt and add the pole to your routine. Your moves are so slow and sensuous as you rub your pussy along the pole sliding up and down it, offering your tits to the crowd when you twirl around it. You get down on the floor and work your hips and ass as if you are giving some lucky guy the fuck of his life, and the money just flows onto the stage. A few men come up front to get a closer look while you dance and shout words of encouragement.
"I have a pole just like that one for you to fuck."
"You can ride my cock like that anytime baby."
"Damn you're hot! I want a lap dance when you're done."
"Shake that ass baby, and let me suck on those nice tits when you're done."
When the song ends all the men by the stage yell as you gather up the money they threw on it. Lap dances are $25 and you already had two requests before you leave the stage. A private lap dance in one of the back rooms is $75. The bouncers arrange them. Marcus said after you finished the $25 dances if someone wants a private dance one of the bouncers will escort you to a private room and stay with you during the dance. The no touching policy by the patrons is supposed to be enforced by the bouncer during the dance. With the money you collected from the stage and the two lap dances you guessed you had about $200 so far and you still had to dance two more times tonight.
