Lust & Lap Dances

By: Veronica Rush


The women in the dressing room at the club were darting around like crazy with their cell phones in their stiletto fingernailed hands when I stepped in and threw my bag down beside of my table to get ready for my shift. My eyes roamed around the room, trying to find someone who didn't look like they were about to have a full on panic attack to ask what was going on. "Lisa?" I called out, hoping my favorite work friend would be able to hear me over the chaos. She walked over to me, her heels click clacking against the tiled floor before she found herself beside me as I dumped the contents of my makeup bag on my table and began to sort it. "What's going on?" I asked once she was close enough.

"Remember Celia, the new girl?" Lisa asked, pulling a stool next to mine so we could talk without having to shout at each other and I could get my face on hopefully interrupted.

"Yeah, little blonde thing? Shockingly good on the pole?"

"Yeah, her. Well, tonight was supposed to be her first night out on the floor and I knew she was nervous about it but she actually called in sick... no one's buying it."

It might not have seemed like a big deal to anyone else, but we look forward to nights on the floor. The amount of cash we make is probably five times more than what we get while we're on stage. I mean, the trade off is that you have to give lap dances and grind all over sweaty, usually older men... but, the tips are insane. It's one of those things we love to hate, hate to love or however the saying goes.

"Well, that sucks but what's all the fuss about?" I asked, peering around the room at my coworkers who were still in a frenzy.

"We were already short tonight, we've got enough girls to cover stage time but we were really stretching it with the few girls who are ready for the floor. We need someone to step up but the only girls volunteering... well, we don't want them out there."

It didn't surprise me how Lisa used the word 'we' in reference to the manager she actually meant. He adored her, she was the favorite and actually got a lot of say in what went on. Normally, I'd complain about how unfair that is but she's the first one to go marching in when we think we deserve a raise or the stages need worked on or whatever and she usually gets it done for us. It's nice being close to someone who has higher up friends, sometimes.

"Hey, wait. Wait a minute," Lisa suddenly proclaimed, looking at me intently.

"No... no, I'm not ready. Girl, I haven't been here long enough for that. I just got solo stage time a few nights ago... there's no way..."

"Kelli, you're one of our best dancers already. You pull in the most tips on stage right now, you'd get so much more out on the floor, it doesn't matter how new you are or whatever. We need another girl on the floor and we want the best, you know. One bad apple spoils the rest or whatever, and the rest of these girls... you catch my drift! I can go talk to Marky right now and set it up."

I groaned out loud as I looked around the room, praying that she was overlooking someone. The two girls that were already supposed to be on the floor were present so they couldn't be approached for this, and the rest of the girls... well, they barely got stage time because they were so awful but Marky had faith that they'd eventually improve. Only the best of the best could go out on the floor, they were more representative of the club than anyone. They left the biggest impressions and brought in the most money -- not just with tips, but they'd buy drink after drink, probably to forget their wives or girlfriends back home while some stripper rubbed herself all over them.

I shuddered at the thought of it, honestly. At least on stage, no one could touch me. I knew it wasn't the most glamorous job and maybe nothing to brag about -- I hated it most of the time. It just made me feel dirty, but it was a small town and it wasn't like there were a bunch of other available jobs. I had to pay rent and feed myself somehow.

"Alright. If he wants me to."

Lisa clapped her hands before taking off, out the dressing room door and down the hallway to Marky's office. She was barely gone two minutes when she came barging back in with her announcement, "Get your sweet ass out there!"

I was terrified. I took a shot backstage (hey, it's allowed! Just enough to loosen us up.) and checked in the mirror once more to make sure that the matching, skimpy bra and panties I had on were adjusted and covering everything they were meant to, took a deep breath, and walked out onto the floor.

The night was already in full swing, all of the tables were full, the stools at the bar were full, it was definitely a packed night. All I had to do was walk around until someone waved me over and requested a lap dance, so I did just that. I was focusing on how my hips were swinging and trying to watch the floor, not wanting to slip on a spilled drink or anything, when I felt someone grab my hand roughly.

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