Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
I try not to tremble as I walk toward the stage. One of the other girls is coming off at the same time. I guess I’m supposed to take her place. There’s so much I’m going to have to learn about how this place operates.
There are men everywhere.
I feel like I’ve just dumped into a room filled with men from a Navy ship that’s been at sea for months and have been hired to be entertainment for the night. It’s like I can feel every eye in the room watching me as I thread my way through a maze of tables and chairs and colored lights beaming down on me from the ceiling. I do my best not to roll an ankle in Eliza’s heels as I make my way toward that raised black platform with at the center of the room.
Relax, they don’t know you’re new here. Stay cool.
The odor of beer and vape scents invade my nostrils. And also, the smells of men.
I don’t know any other way to say it, but it’s like I can literally smell the testosterone. I’ve heard animals of the same species can actually pick up on each other’s pheromones or something like that, so maybe it’s possible that in a highly sexualized environment such as this that that ability is heightened and I’m actually consciously noticing it.
Keeping my head straight, I glance around the room by just moving my eyes.
I see tables of men sitting together, drinking and laughing. I see single men by themselves at the bar, and I see one table with a group of men and a lone girl with them—a civilian girl—not a girl who works here. They’re doing shots together, and I’m pretty sure they’re celebrating her birthday.
I find that interesting. Ja-Ja-Ja-Jaguars wouldn’t be my first choice of where to hold my birthday party, yet here I am on my birthday too. The only difference is I’m working, not celebrating.
I wonder how many of these men are married. How many have girlfriends? How many are just here looking for some company, and how many of them know that us girls are just pretending to like them? And do they actually give a damn? Or is it just enough for them to see some naked female bodies?
“Hell, yeah!” a random man hollers from my left. “Now that’s an ass, aye, boys? That’s an ass worthy of a tip!”
I look over and see him tucking what looks like a twenty in a girl’s G-string as his buddies hoot and holler with approval. The girl smiles, leans in very close like she’s going to kiss the man, then quickly pulls back, tossing her hair in his face as she does so. This little tease only generates even more applause.
She sure knows what she’s doing. How am I ever going to be able to do that?
A pit begins to form in my stomach as I close in on the stage. It’s either really heating up in here, or it’s just me. Either way, I’m having a hard time keeping it together. I mouth Eliza’s advice to myself.
“Move your hips. Stare into their eyes. They’re just cash cows.”
My left ankle almost rolls.
Stupid heels! How does anyone manage to walk in these things?
Somehow, I manage to keep myself from going down and toppling over like an idiot in front of all these men who I’m supposed to be impressing tonight on my first night at the club. I keep walking, and as I pass a table of three guys who look like they work construction, I catch one of them eyeing me all the way up and down.
He doesn’t even hide it as he lets his eyes linger on my butt, then grins as he stares at my tits. Instantly, my indignance snaps to the surface. I’m this close to whirling around and telling him to take a photo because it will last longer, but then I mentally smack myself in the face for being so stupid.
You’re in a strip club, Iris! This is where you work now. You want the men to do what that guy just did. It’s your job now!
“Check that one out,” I hear him say to his friends. “New girl.”
“You sure?” another guy replies.
“Definitely. I come here all the time, and I ain’t never seen her.”
“Nice thighs on her,” the third chuckles. “Wouldn’t mind using those as earmuffs, you know what I’m saying?”
I mentally roll my eyes and keep moving toward the stage.
“Cash cows,” I whisper to myself beneath the music. “You’re here to make money. That’s all you’re here for.”
I take a breath and raise my right foot.
This is it. Time to cowboy up and make it all happen. You can do this, Iris.
But just as I’m stepping up onto the stage, I feel a presence behind me. I smell a scent behind me. A powerful, overpowering scent. But not in a bad way. Not an odor you wouldn’t want to smell, but a strong, masculine scent that nearly stops me in my tracks.