Descent Into Darkness

by Michael Cross

  When Katja and I were startled from our nap by the alarm Katja kissed me and said, in her childlike voice, “I make you a deal – you never tell my parents and I never tell your husband. I will live in the shadows until I am old and gray if you want.” I smiled and motioned for her to get up so we could eat dinner. Of course there was nothing else on my mind while we prepared to leave but questions about how this would turn out.

  When we arrived at work we were greeted by Nazir at the door. He motioned us to the bar where the muscular brother, Aslan was pouring drinks next to the top-heavy topless red head who was chatting with him. We walked over and Aslan introduced us to Tiffanie, who took us to the storage room and said, “You are free to go through the boxes and use whatever you want. Oh and don’t worry. Everything has been cleaned and sanitized. And, if either of you know how to sew some of the dancers like to make their own costumes.”

  Once Tiffanie left us alone I immediately asked, “You think that’s the girl who the pimp said was with him and your sister?” Katja quickly looked around to make sure nobody could hear, “She has to be. I certainly intend on finding out. One thing though…how does she walk with those things?” We both laughed and continued looking through the two large baskets. We found more excuses to laugh at some of the outfits but little by little got wardrobes together. However, just as we were about to get to the bottom of the first basket Katja stopped and stared at a pair of small, fur-lined bottoms. She then said, “This has to have been Tamilla’s!” I asked why and she said, “Look, here is a ‘T’ in a sunflower – that was her signature on anything she made – a drawing, a basket, anything! I swear this is her work!” I cautioned her, “Look, keep still, okay? Don’t tell anyone at all about this.” She asked, “Who can we trust? I will not tell anyone, but I am keeping these.” I nodded and then told her to get ready since we needed to get directions from Aslan as to what we were to do.

  Katja’s discovery at least made the events of the past two days seem totally worth the sacrifices that I had made. As we waited for Aslan to finish at the bar I looked in at the customers seated throughout the establishment. I could not help but think they were total losers, but I would do my best not to let my true feelings emerge. I had to get lost in the part I was playing; I had to be the perfect actress. At least we knew Tamilla had worked here; Katja had proven it. The goal at that moment was to find out what happened between her being a performer at this place to her winding up on a slab at the morgue. I did get a thrill of sorts at realizing I was hot on the trail of a murderer –or murderers – and that I was perhaps deep in the nest of some terrorists. Of course, I had to remind myself that my mission made what I was doing here a noble act.

  Aslan finished serving some customers and approached us. It was Katja who asked loudly, over the blare of the 80s-style rock music, “So what are our duties this evening?” I marveled at how she made it sound like a military exercise. Aslan spoke to her in Russian. Their conversation continued until Aslan stopped and even seemed apologetic as he turned to me, “Oh, right, you are American…I speak English then.” He then told us that in the dressing rooms there were a series of lights. He said that earlier in the evening all performances would be solo, but that after eleven we could be out together – in fact he encouraged a little light foreplay on stage. He explained that since the customers knew the routine they would stay later in the evening and spend more on drinks and that the more they drank, the more they tipped. He then said we should encourage customers to buy us the most expensive drinks.

  Katja was the one who asked, “What about Amber here, she does not drink?” Aslan turned to me, “You do not drink? Admirable, neither do I, but you must try to get customers to get you drinks. Just pretend to sip some and then move on.” He then said we should watch the dancers for a few minutes and get into the mood, and that I would go on when the green light flashed…and Katja the blue.

  We sat down at one of the front tables and Aslan brought me a soft drink and Katja something alcoholic. I could feel the eyes of men in the audience shift to us as there were no other women amongst them. Of course when the music began, and Aslan introduced Alexa, the focus turned to the stage. My mind was shifting back and forth between our discovery of Tamilla’s clothing and the countdown to my having to get on that stage. When Alexa began her act I began to feel anxiety over what was coming up. Alexa was a thin girl who did not exactly look like, well, a stripper. She had short black hair, large eyes, and smaller than average breasts. Yet it seemed her enthusiasm for performing was not lost on the men gawking at her. By the time the first song ended she was naked, except for a g-string, high-heeled shoes, and what appeared then to be a cute, glittery ankle bracelet. When the second song began she descended from the stage and effortlessly danced around the tables in what one could mistake as an artistically choreographed routine. She playfully snatched up the paper currency the men held out to get her to pay some extra attention to them. She then came over to us and looked at me first, took my hand and kissed as she looked at me seductively. One could hear several guys yell in expectant approval but then she let go, spun around, removed the G-string, tossed it front of Katja and over her drink. Katja hesitated a moment and then, in a teasing gesture that brought further calls of adoration from the audience she looked around and put the underwear down her blouse as if she were saving it. The Alexa girl smiled and just then the song ended. She grabbed the money that now littered the floor next to our table and whispered something into Katja’s ear that caused her to turn bright red. When she left I asked Katja, “What is it that she said to you?” Katja giggled and leaned across the table to whisper to me, “The Russian girl there says that if you and I want a threesome after work she is up for it.” I joked, “Would you do it?” to which she answered, “She is cute, but I would have to get to know her first. I’ll talk with her later when I give her back her underwear.” I looked at her in a shocked, but lighthearted manner to which Katja responded, “Do not worry, I would never cheat on you…unless you were there too I guess.” At that we both laughed but refocused our attention on the next dancer, the red headed Tiffanie.

  She was not quite as graceful during her routine, but that did not seem to matter to the patrons since her physical assets seemed to carry her through. Unlike Alexa she did not seem to have any real dancing talents whatsoever, but with an almost obnoxious flirtation with the men, coupled with her basketball-sized breasts she received just as much adoration, and money. She did not come by our table, as Alexa had. After the second song she left the stage and Aslan announced a ten minute intermission. After that he motioned for us to follow him back stage.

  When we went back he motioned for Tiffanie to come and go over the routine for the evening again. The Alexa girl was sitting at a table doing something with her make-up but she took time to look up at us and grin, before going back to her work. Tiffanie, wearing only a little skirt told Aslan that she would get us prepared and, as he left, I asked, “So does Aslan just come in here when everyone is changing?” That prompted Alexi and Tiffanie to giggle and Tiffanie commented, “I like your sense of humor girl. Why shouldn’t he come in? He knows more about every girl working here than their gynecologist does.” I guess she was right. Maybe she was worried she had offended me since she then said, “Sorry. You will lose any sense of modesty you ever had. In no time you will even forget to put your clothes on when you go out to the bar, or even when you get ready to leave. It is actually the one thing I like about this job…with my build and all. You just can’t find comfortable bras so unless I worked as a gardener at a nudist colony…well, no maybe when I am older, but not now…I get more money here.”

  Tiffanie informed Katja she would be going on in ten minutes so she had to get her things ready. She had chosen some leather-themed outfit and quickly changed out of her own things, carefully tucking in her sister’s outfit into her purse, as well as Alexa’s G-string. I felt somewhat out of place but I got out of my street clothes and tried on something of a
cowgirl theme – rhinestones mixed with a little lace and leather. Apparently we had to use our own shoes so I was glad we had worn the high heels from San Diego to work. Katja took a deep breath, waiting for the blue light on the wall to go on and pulled me to her, “Uh…wish me luck. We need to discuss some things in the bathroom later.”

  Just then the light flashed and I could hear Aslan announce, “Let’s give it up for our newest addition, straight from Russia and dying to find that one American man of her dreams – Petra!” She sighed and ran out onto the stage. The songs they played were fast and so she was able to almost imitate the same style as Alexa. I worried as to how I was going to pull this off – dancing was not something I was good at. Sure, I was in excellent condition, but coordination was a different story. I waited there, barely noticing Katja, and feeling the anxiety of an athlete waiting for the gun to go off to start a race.

  When the songs were over I waited with dread. Katja ran in smiling and clutching wadded-up bills and her outfit over her chest. She was gasping for air as she said, “Good luck my love!” and then, the moment of truth…the green light flashed! I took a deep breath and walked out just as Aslan announced, “Here is Amber…shall we see if she can bounce as well as Petra?” I glanced at him trying not to show disgust for his comment. Then the music began – and to my astonishment it was some sort of slow R&B from the late 1980s. I hated this sort of music, and now I had to perform for maybe 40 half-drunk guys in a dump on the wrong side of town? I was furious, but proceeded as best I could.

  While the song played I tried to keep rhythm while taking off the cowboy-like decorative gloves I was wearing. Then I tried to imitate moves I had seen Katja do, but I was not even familiar with this song. And to make matters worse the snap on my top would not unfasten, so I wound up in a struggle getting my top off. Anticipating some appreciative notice of my exposed breasts as I danced I became absolutely furious as I saw guys reading drink lists, or talking to one another as if they were in a conference and totally ignoring me! The only one who was really paying attention it seemed was some skinny guy in the front with huge, black-rimmed glasses who looked like a main character in some nerd-themed comedy. His focus was totally on me and I was unsure whether to be flattered or disheartened.

  I had only taken my top off by the time the second song started, and this one was even worse – it was country, and I recognized the song from Vincent’s chamber. Yet only then did I remember that my outfit was country-western oriented so I tried to remember routines I had seen dancing girls in old western movies perform. At that I did become a bit more energized and decided that if the nerd was not ignoring me I would give him my total attention. I eased myself off the stage, and looked directly at him. He seemed as scared as I was so I smiled at him and circled his table. At that I put my leg up and assumed a rodeo-girl pose and then ripped my bottoms off. I tossed them on stage and began to pretend I was trying to seduce him. By now some of the audience was paying attention but I sort of blocked them out. The nerdy guy then took out what appeared to be a fifty dollar bill and held it out. I leaned over the table, took it in my mouth and then stood up just as the song ended. As I reached down to pick up some assorted bills on the floor I heard some guy yell to his friend, “Not too bad for a MILF!” and he tossed down a couple of dollars. I did not say a word as I took up his gift and quickly escaped with my money and outfit to the safety of the changing room.

  It only hit me as I was safely off stage that all I had received was polite applause. I degraded myself for half-hearted clapping and a few assorted dollar bills? As I looked at the fifty I shook my head and whispered aloud, “At least someone appreciated me.” That only reinforced my anger. I held a PhD in psychology, had written a book, and was probably representing some of these pitiful men in government. I forced myself back into the reality of my mission however; although I tried to think of some way I could make a law to punish this place in some way.

  Just then I noticed Katja was talking with Alexa. They were laughing and began to speak quite loudly in Russian. And at that moment Tiffanie came over and said, “Good job for a newbie. Are you from around here?” I answered, “No, I am from…Hermiston.” She then brightened up, “You are from Hermiston? I have cousins living there. You ever hear of any people with the last name of Clemmings?” I shook my head to indicate no, and of course I was lying about my origins anyway. She continued, “That’s okay, I am from Prineville and don’t know everyone. We are both from eastern Oregon so we should stick together.” I smiled and said I would appreciate it. She then said, “You do know you could ask for Aslan to put on whatever music you like. And one more thing, I am glad he hired you. Last week the last two girls besides me who were American left for college. And it is lonely not being able to talk to any of the dancers here except for an occasional Russian that knows some English.”

  About then the yellow light want on and she excused herself and ran onto the stage. I did not ask Aslan about music, I just tried to get an idea of what I should do by watching Tiffanie. She did not seem to have any fantastic moves, but she really flirted with the customers. Maybe that was what was essential – maybe all this job really entailed was teasing desperate men, and If that were the case maybe I could indeed fake it.

  I decided to go for the cheerleader theme when it was my turn to go on. Katja left Alexa and came over to me, “Hi there my love. I think I am on next. I have to tell you an idea but maybe we can wait until we are off work.” I anxiously asked what was up and she shrugged her shoulders and began to talk into my ear, “Alexa said the red head has worked here for over a year. She just has to be the one.” I asked, “You want me to find out if she is?” Katja nodded her head, “Get to be her friend. I’ll bet she knows something.” She shifted focus, “Alexa is from St. Petersberg and has only been here for two months. I’ll try to earn her trust and…” Just then the blue light came on and Katja quickly darted out to the stage. I looked over at Alexa who returned my glance with just a blank, analytical stare. Tiffanie was out at the bar talking with Aslan and so I felt alone listening to the music and seeing Katja thrill the audience by exposing herself.

  In a few minutes, when Katja came back I was ready for the light to go on for me but instead the pink light came on and Alexa went on stage. Tiffanie came back and asked, “Can I talk with you Amber?” She said that Aslan and Nazir had both been disappointed with my performance and they wanted her to give me some pointers. She said, “Amber, you have to remember in this business that you have to let these men believe you would love nothing more than to have sex with them. Of course it is a lie, but you have to be a great actress at this or they will not fork over the dollars if they think you hate them. Most of them put up with hate every day. Their bosses yell at them and when they get home their wives find every excuse to not have sex with them, or the single ones can’t even get dates. You are selling them a fantasy – something that they can dream about this evening, or think about when their overweight wives, who don’t even take off their pajamas when lovemaking, actually agree to endure a few minutes of sex with them.” I thanked her for the advice and asked, “So just tease them and don’t worry about dance?” She said, “I get more tips than these Russians with all their fancy ballet training. Look girl, you don’t need triple D tits to rake in the dough. Just sell them a fantasy even if you think they are lower than dogs. Make them believe they are the object of your lust.”

  She then smiled, “So if you like you can come over to my place tomorrow around lunch and I can try to give you some help with how to present yourself.” I was silent a moment and she laughed, “Hey, I am not coming on to you…I know you and the new Russian girl are girlfriends and besides, I tried girls and they are far too emotional and needy for my tastes.” I said I would check what I was doing the next day. Then Tiffanie asked, “Oh, Aslan said you have a baby with an ex-boyfriend. Does he have custody?” I decided to continue lying, “Yeah, one of the reasons I am working here is to get money for court to get her
back.” She responded, “Bummer, but Aslan often tries to help out the dancers. Many borrow money from bad people to make it to America and so he lends them money to pay them off and then they can pay him back little by little. He really is generous, so if you need money feel free to ask him.”

  Just then the green light flashed. I was worried that if I did not perform better than before I might get fired just when things were getting interesting, so it was imperative that I do what was necessary. When the music started at least it was more a grunge-rock selection from the 1990s. I did my best to be more seductive as I removed the outfit I had chosen. And rather than staying on stage too long I got down and tried to combine the more provocative moves with looking at each and every guy, not just my nerdy friend in the front row, as if I had been stranded alone on a desert island for the past several years and yearned for male companionship. I was relieved, and somewhat elated, that the men were far more generous in attention – as well as money. However, this act was not easy. While I did my best to look at them as if I wanted them, the more erotic I attempted to be, the more I despised them, the more money they threw my way, the more I resented them. It felt like the strangest feedback loop ever.

  After the second song finished I overheard Aslan on the microphone, “Oh yes, it seems Amber has warmed up nicely, let us give her our appreciation!” At that I was so angry I did not care about the applause, I grabbed my money and clothes but, rather than running off stage, I turned, gave an evil, yet flirtatious grin to the men I considered low-lives, and then pranced off to the changing room.

  I was going to ask Katja what she thought of my act, but I noticed she was in the changing room laughing and talking with Alexa again. I suddenly felt a slight ting of jealousy. Alexa looked up at me like she wished I was dead, and at that Katja turned and walked towards me, “Amber, how did it go – I was busy talking with Alexa over some things…and we need some privacy.” I motioned towards the bathroom and she led the way, seemingly oblivious to my less-than-pleased state at the moment.