9
I needed money.
It wasn’t my debt. I shouldn’t have had to pay it, but like so many things in life, it wasn't fucking fair.
Yes. I said it. I cussed.
I arrived at the Pink Sleeve in the bright light of day. The cleaners were sanitising the poles and wiping down the tables. I went around the back and I marched right up to Julian Gold's office and asked him if I could strip.
He'd asked why, but I was too ashamed to admit to the tangled web of poverty and abuse that my mother had spun around me. Even though I didn’t live with her anymore, she still dragged me into her torrid sludge. I need cash and quick.
I stood on the stage with Marianne. Stage name: Scarlett as she grabbed my hands to place them on the pole.
“Are you sure you wanna do this, honey?” Scarlett asked with warmth in her eyes. “It’s a big step.”
“I need the money, Scar.”
The redheaded beauty rubbed my hands in a soothing way, her soft fingers caught on the scars on the palm of my hand. A ring on each one. From where Mama had taken my hands and held them against the stove until my skin melted.
I hadn’t been allowed to go to the hospital and the scars hurt almost every day, but I ignored them. They had become part of my existence.
“You’ll do great, honey.” Scarlett assured me as she taught me the basics of the pole.
I hoped so. I couldn’t afford to fail.
I was given one of the spare dressing tables in the back room with the other girls.
“Do you have a stage name, Sweets?” Bailey, one of the other girls leant over and held out her mascara wand.
“Don’t hassle the girl!” Scarlett pouted as she applied her lipstick.
Bailey laughed and shook her head before she resumed to carefully help me with my makeup. Bailey was eighteen, but acted much older.
“Why are you doing this again, Sweets?” she asked.
“Money.” I told her whilst chewing my bottom lip. “My Mama got in with some bad people.”
“You don’t need to tell us, honey.” Scarlett patted my shoulder. “We’ve all got reasons.”
Bailey capped the mascara and started to root around her makeup bag for something. “You want to do as many private dances as possible. That’s where the money is. I don’t know if you'll get any tonight, because you're new. But it’s easy. Always say yes. Even if you’re nervous, it’s a learning experience.”
“I won't have to...” I chewed my bottom lip.
Scarlett shook her head, “No sex. No touching. There is a pole in each private room but most of the men want a lap dance.”
“Just act like the sun shines out of their dicks and they'll love you.” Bailey said.
I couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of my chest.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a sunshine dick.” Scarlett said thoughtfully.
Bailey smiled knowingly. “Imagine if Marvel made that film?”
“On the subject of alter egos...” Scarlett wiggled her brows.
I thought about it for a moment. “You can call me Pepper.” I said with certainty.
“You have a private dance booked.” Julian told me with a frown as I stood on the wings of the stage and mentally prepared myself to perform in front of a crowd.
“What?” I whispered back, peeling my platform heel away from the steps.
Julian didn’t appear too happy about the whole arrangement but I didn’t ask why. “He's waiting for you in the third room.”
I nodded, confusion marred my face as Julian called for Bailey to take the pole in my absence.
Dressed in a translucent ivory bralette with matching stockings, suspenders and G-string, I looked like a perverse angelic virgin with the first-time nerves to match.
I resisted the urge to cover my dark nipples, visible through the fabric as I turned away from Julian Gold and weaved through the staff entrance to the private rooms.
My platform heels were a size too small, as they were borrowed, but I concentrated on the pinch and rub on the edge of my toes. I allowed my mind to drift. I needed the money. I needed to be safe.
It was stripping or having sex with strangers. I had made the choice with which I could live.
Before my one night with Elliot Gold, sex had been something I had done when backed into a corner. It hadn’t been for fun. Or attraction. I had never had the power to say no before.
My sexuality was almost non-existent. Taken from me at the hands of Mama and her revolving door of boyfriends. I had to own it.
I straightened my shoulders and walked into the room with pride.
One of the floor bouncers hovered in the corner and I forced my lips into a shaky but seductive smile.
Think of the devil, and he shall appear.
Elliot Gold was sat in a chair, in the centre of the room, with eyes like ice and a smile that would rival the devils.