by Daniel Gage
The girls I work with aren’t what someone would think of as your stereotypical topless dancers, but they sure work like them. They all get their turn on stage, usually swinging around the pole to a fast song, and get a couple dollars tossed at them. Then they go on the floor and offer lap dances for more generous tips. They hustled nightly, but at the end of their shift, most of them left to go home and be with their families. I was jealous.
Not me. Even though it would be the best lap dance of their life, I’d put these poor men into a coma before the song was halfway over. Besides, I can earn more money in a single stage dance than most girls earn all night.
Instead of gyrating around a pole, my act is a bit more of a burlesque show. Whatever it is about me that everyone finds so damn irresistible, it helps my performance. When one of the other girls is up here, she’s lucky if the people sitting at the side of the stage are paying attention. But when I dance, the whole damn building is watching me, and I love every second.
Whenever I took the stage, the air was electric. The applause, the cheers, the hypnotized stares, it’s so energizing that I can’t wait to start my act. It’s almost as if their adoration nourishes a part of me that food and water can’t reach. It’s like a drug. It’s what I craved, and tonight was no exception.
The girl before me was finishing up her act, and the DJ announced my name, and welcomed me to the stage.
The lights dimmed, the spotlight came up, my song came on, and I stepped out to a thunder of cheers, applause, and whistles.
For tonight I chose a nice, slow number that will allow me to take my time and really tease the crowd.
To tease the audience, I slowly slid back behind the curtain. From there, my hand slowly slinked out, followed by my arm. I leaned, peeking out the from behind the curtain. I winked seductively, and then I disappeared behind the cloth. I let the peekaboo have its affect, and then I tenderly stuck my gloved had back out from the curtain.
My second hand joined it, and I slowly peeled off one of the gloves finger by finger. When the glove was finally off, I tossed it downstage to be greeted by cheers from the audience.
I slinked my way from the curtain downstage to the main stripper pole. I walked around it, smiling seductively and making as much eye contact as I could. As I rounded the stage I gave a quick little spin, which caused my skirt to swish up and, for a split second, expose a pair of tiny white underwear.
The sound of the cheers and whistles almost drowned out the song.
Other girls that are prettier than me have tried similar acts, but don’t get near the response I do. Though after a while I stopped wondering why that was, and just sat back and enjoyed it.
I continued to dance, making use of the white feather boa I wore. I looped it around one lucky guy’s neck, and he didn’t resist when I pulled him in. But before he could even stand I let go of the boa with my gloved hand and pushed him back in his seat, which was again followed by more cheers, whistles, and money being thrown on stage.
I played with the boa some more, using it to really make my shimmies bigger than they were. I wrapped my boa around myself one more time before tossing it on the stage behind me, and began the slow, sensual process of peeling off my last glove. I carefully slid it down my arm from my elbow, slowly wiggling my fingers once they were free of the silk. An encouraging shout followed.
For the next part of my act, instead of taking off more clothing, I did a few pole tricks. Since I only had on a lingerie top, a skirt, and thigh high net stockings, I wanted to draw out the seduction as long as possible. I climbed up the pole, wrapped my leg around it, flipped upside down, and slowly spun my way to the floor. I landed on my back, and with a flourish of my legs I flipped over to my stomach. I followed that up with a cat crawl downstage. More money thrown by the audience lined my path.
I did a few more moves and let my hair down, letting my brown curls fall around my face. Then I decided it was time to spice things up even more. The music hit a crescendo, which I timed with hooking my leg around the pole for a one handed spin, which let me rip off my tear-away skirt. The response was deafening.
I made certain to drop the skirt upstage, away from eager hands. I would have to save that move to use again later.
I went back to the pole, getting ready for my finale. I gripped it in both hands and slowly began a turn around it.
When I came back around, my attention was drawn to five large men dressed in red suits. The one in front was tallest, with dark skin and a wide, clean smile. And that’s all I was able to notice before my eyes fell on the crossbow he was aiming directly at me.
My breath stopped as he pulled the trigger, the slight twang barely audible above the music. I’m sure no one else heard it, but to me, it was deafening. And I had no time to react.
However, between me and the crossbow bolt was the stripper pole. The bolt struck the metal pole and was deflected off to the side, and instead of plunging itself into my chest, it only left a cut along my arm. I slipped and fell, and when my heart finally beat again, I screamed.
The music screeched to a halt as my spell over the audience began to break. Some saw the situation and backed away, scared. Some were more indignant that their show was cut sort. I used the momentary confusion to get to my feet and run before the men could chase me.