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*****
Charisma’s Prada pumps clicked against the marble floor as she made her way to the food court area where she was meeting her best friend that she hadn’t seen in over three years or so. She held an oversized Prada purse in her right hand and her phone in the other. On her face she wore a pair of oversized Prada shades. Her tight Prada jeans defined every curve that her body was equipped with. She was all Prada from the earrings in her ear to the shoes on her feet. It was obvious that she was super bad and not once did she have to hear it. She was a bad bitch and there was no need to tell her and try to stroke her ego because her ego was already on a 110 and her swag was definitely on 150, no doubt. Any higher and she would be putting bitches to sleep for sure.
Removing her shades with confidence, she eyed the food court but didn’t see Michelle. She was about to punch in her number on the keypad until a big ass almighty caught her attention.
Charisma never was into females, but if she saw a bad bitch she sure as hell would acknowledge one. Charisma eyed the girl’s ass like it was a piece of candy. “Damn,” she mouthed.
The girl turned around. “Oh boo! There you go!”
Charisma covered her mouth. The only thing that she recognized about the girl was her squeaky voice and the deep dimples that were engraved in her high cheeks. “Michelle?” Charisma questioned.
“Don’t act like you blind.” Michelle laughed. She spun around showing off her new body. The only thing that was fat on her was her fat ass and her outrageously thick thighs.
“Bitttttch! Dammmmn!” Charisma covered her mouth again and got up to circle around Michelle. “What in the world happened to you? I mean, damn! Girl, work it! You is dope as shit!” Charisma admitted.
“Anything and everything that money could buy,” Michelle bragged as she opened her arms for a hug.
The last time Charisma saw her girl. She was chubby and wore really cheap weave and clothing. Her face was beautiful but everything else was busted. She’d gone from a low 2 to a 10.
Charisma was really impressed. She hoped with the new body and all that Michelle had also gained some confidence. She would soon learn that Michelle had gained a little too much confidence. The bitch was bad and nobody or their momma could tell her shit.
They walked through the mall shopping and catching up on old times. Charisma couldn’t help but keep sneaking peeks at Michelle’s outrageous ass. She made a note to herself to go get a membership at the gym a.s.a.p. There was no way she was going to let a chick like Michelle out does her. In a matter of minutes, she learned that Michelle’s ego was bigger than her big ass head that rested awkwardly on top of her shoulders.
“So you still with dude?” Michelle questioned sipping on an ice coffee from Starbucks. She raised her eyebrow as she waited for answer.
Charisma was on the other side of the dressing room, trying to fit into a Bebe dress that was a size too small for her. She was irritated and frustrated that the dress didn’t fit. A size bigger would make her feel so insecure. “Huh? What you say, girl?” Charisma answered from the other side.
“Is you still with Trig’s boy?” Michelle repeated herself as if she didn't already know the answer.
“Yes, girl. Still in love, Girl, that nigga isn’t going anywhere and I sure as hell am not. You still deal with Trig?” Charisma questioned. It was her turn to wait for an answer. “Do you hear me?”
“Yes, girl. On and off, I just got back in town and that nigga already calling me. I don’t want to see his ass, if he calls looking for me. Tell him you didn’t hear from me.”
Charisma threw the dress over the dressing room door. “Girl, get me a fucking size seven,” she whined.
“Okay. A size seven, little Debbie cakes. I see you putting on a little weight,” Michelle teased. She knew how to make Charisma feel bad about herself. She knew that Charisma loved her body and would cry the second someone mentioned her being fat.
Although she was nowhere near fat, it just hurt Charisma that she wasn’t as perfect as she wanted to be. Sitting on her ass eating all day and doing nothing with her life was starting to take a slight toll on her banging hourglass shape.
Michelle switched her ass off, heading to get a bigger size. Once she found the dress she grabbed a size nine on purpose. “Here is your size seven.” Michelle threw the dress over top of the door.
Moments later, Charisma opened the doors flaunting the dress. It fit perfectly on her body.
Charisma stood directly in front of the mirror, mesmerized by how the dress looked as if it was painted on her body. “Now this what you call a bad bitch,” Charisma teased.
“And you know you see another one so point her out!” Michelle added. She covered her mouth as if she tickled herself to death.
They continued on through the mall chatting and gossiping with their arms filled with shopping bags. Charisma took notice of the way Michelle was splurging like there was no tomorrow. The last time she checked, her girl was without a job and didn’t have any baller.
Not being the one to hold her tongue, Charisma immediately asked about it, wanting to know the 411. “So girl you up here splurging and shit. Where you getting all that dough at? I thought you didn’t work.” Charisma raised her eyebrow.
Michelle bit down on her bottom lip. She could either tell her now or allow Charisma to find out for herself later. Charisma wasn’t the type to judge someone first hand so Michelle decided to just tell her. “Girl, you see all of this? I work damn hard for it. I dance at the Platinum. My boss helped pay for all of this, girl. I was the fattest chick on stage now I’m the baddest to step foot up in that joint,” Michelle bragged. “Ginger by night and Michelle by day.” She flashed a quick smile.
“Oh,” Charisma gulped. She’d never stepped foot in a strip club before, but she heard many bad and over the top freaky stories about strippers and what went down in the club. She heard many people compare strippers with prostitutes before. Once the money got good no telling what a person would do. “Ginger by night and Michelle by day, huh?” She stopped in her tracks, facing her friend. “Well I’m not going to judge you. Looks like you making a pretty penny.” I be damn if I slide up and down anyone’s pole. With a body like that, the bitch better find a nigga to trick off on her ass and take care of her expenses, Charisma thought to herself.
Michelle smiled at her friend’s approval. “You have to come watch me dance one day. Girl, I’m just not a booty shaker, I’m artistic with my shit. I work fucking magic. I be having niggas falling in love and wanna marry a girl up in that joint.”
Before leaving the mall Michelle dropped three stacks on a bag that she really couldn't afford but she just had to show Charisma that she could ball out she like she was balling out.
“For sure girl.”
Heading to the parking lot, about to go their separate ways, Michelle came up with an idea. “Let’s kick it at your crib and you come watch me work for like an hour or so. I’ma leave early and we can hit up a club like old times.”
Charisma debated and decided why not. “I’ll ride with you,” she suggested.
She placed her bags in the trunk of Michelle’s all black, trimmed in red Mustang. There was no way in hell she was going to leave her bags resting in her trunk in the mall parking lot. She couldn't wait to get home to sort through her things.
Michelle fired the engine up to the Mustang and sparked a cigarette.
Charisma punched her address in her GPS on her phone and got comfortable, placing her seat belt on and reclining her seat back. “Whoa buddy! Slow the fuck down!” Charisma screamed. Her legs kicked up in the air and she fell back into her seat.
Michelle had to be flying at least 70 miles per hour out of the mall’s parking lot. She quickly jumped into the middle lane cutting off ongoing traffic.
Charisma began hyperventilating. “Sl-Slow the hell down before you kill me!” she gasped.
Michelle smiled as she looked over at her friend who had already pissed h
erself a little. Seeing Charisma’s tail so scared was turning her on. She was in control for once! Michelle pulled up into Charisma and Trent’s driveway and killed the engine of the Mustang. Amazed at their house she instantly envied her friend.
Charisma quickly jumped out the car. “Damn, you should have really slowed the hell down!” Michelle had her blood pressure sky high. Charisma stormed in the house with her bags in her hand. She rushed to the refrigerator for a glass of water and reached in the cabinet for a Motrin. After downing the pill, she stepped into the living and rolled her eyes at Michelle. “What time do you have to be at work?”
“As soon as the ballers arrive.” Michelle laughed.
Charisma shook her head at her friend who had obviously become obsessed with men and money. She remembered a few years back when they were in high school, that Michelle was nick named ‘loose goose’. She got the nickname from being too loose and for looking similar to Mother Goose with her odd body. She stayed off of Market Street with her mother who was an alcoholic and spent most of their funds up on liquor. As quick as the small local liquor store stocked its liquor, Michelle’s mom was right there to make her purchases. Gin was her favorite. If they were out of Gin then she would gulp down anything that gave her a buzz.
Michelle sought attention from all of the boys and men around the neighborhood. She was definitely as yes-girl. You would think that she didn’t know what the word ‘no’ meant.
Charisma reminisced on the past, as she got ready. Getting out of the shower, she took her time and stood in front of the floor length mirror observing her body as she lotioned herself.
She placed a black and red lace bra over her voluptuous breasts and slid a pair of matching red thongs on that disappeared between her ample ass cheeks. She slapped her ass as she continued to look in the mirror and smiled at the way her it jiggled. She was so damn sexy that she turned herself on. Before leaving out she called Trent to let him know that she was hanging out with Michelle.
~Chapter 7~
Michelle walked into Platinum with her Gucci tote in tow. Her stride read confidence and she dared a bitch to try her tonight. She knew she was the baddest thing that would be gracing the stage tonight and had no worries at all. She smelled the fresh scent of moola before any of it was thrown at her.
The doctor told Michelle no working for at least four to six weeks but he’d been talking gibberish to her. There was no way that she was going to miss out on her money and it was the weekend in too, which meant more money! He was out of his mind. When the other dancers saw Michelle walking through the doors they instantly became sick. None of them had seen her since she’d had her surgery, but through their boss they all heard about her procedure.
The competition was now on, but unfortunately Michelle put the competition to rest.
Michelle took her time changing into her dance attire, which wasn’t much of a change at all. She was either going to wear body paint for the night or next to nothing. She patiently waited for all the other dancers to clear the dressing room, tapping her manicured nails against the glass mirror that rested in front of her as she waited for the girls to leave. Man these hoes stay up in this dressing room chatting and shit. That’s the main reason why these bitches are broke now. Y’all hoes better get y’all little chump change now, because the baddest of the baddest is here, Michelle thought.
She scanned the room and rolled her eyes. She got up and damn near stormed into the bathroom. She couldn’t get any privacy at the Platinum. Standing in front of the mirror she stared back at her reflection. She sure as hell wasn’t the same girl she was just over a year ago. Everything had changed about her. She was debating whether or not she should change her name, since she’d changed everything else. She no longer had the desire to be the same Michelle that everyone used to make fun of.
“Fuck that shit! I’m Michelle all day, every day. I been a bad chick,” Michelle tried to convinced herself. She stared at the small scars that were on the left and right sides of her stomach; scars that had changed her life dramatically, for the better. Beauty is pain, she convinced herself as she rubbed a tad of concealer on her scars.
She went into her bag retrieving her goodies. The thought of how high she was going to be caused her to smile. She emptied the goodies out onto the mirror. Rolling up a $100 bill, she thought about all the money that she was about to make. All she could see was her pending high and dollar signs. After snorting a few lines she was ready compete her mission: to get money.
Michelle peeped out of the door and noticed Yummy on the stage working the pole.
Man, that fat hoe needs to get a damn membership to Planet Fitness. She’s a fucking disgrace to this club. This is get money time, not exercise your abs time. The fuck. Michelle laughed to herself.
Ever since her nose job, her breast implants, her ass shots, and her gastric bypass surgery you couldn’t tell her shit. She was a fat slob before? Hell no, she couldn’t remember her fat days even if you paid her to do so. Just how she used to be put down, she made sure she put everyone else down when she got the opportunity. Go head on, bitches. Do y’all thing before I get on the stage and put all y’all hoes to rest.
Michelle’s slow jam came on and she seductively walked onto the stage, placing one leg in front of the other. She didn't even give the DJ a chance to share her introduction with the guests. This was her third week dancing and she already had an established fan base that came out just to watch her dance. A few months back she was introduced to Nick, the owner of Platinum, through a former friend. Nick instantly hired Michelle as a bartender at the club. Nick saw so much in Michelle and decided to make a small investment in her. After a few efforts to persuade her and a little convincing, Michelle was down to make the change. She only dreamed of being beautiful and never thought it could be possible. After her bypass surgery there was so many more things that she wanted to change. With Nick’s funds it was possible.
Nick never asked her to dance at the club. All he mentioned was that the bypass was his treat, but all the other surgeries had to be paid back. Michelle racked up a bill over $150,000 in surgeries and so far hadn’t paid a penny of it back. Tossing pussy here and there to Nick wasn’t going to cut it. Nick had moved on to the next and wanted his money back. He had promoted Michelle from the bartender to a dancer in hopes of getting some of his money back, not that he really needed it. It was just the principle; pay back what you promised to pay back.
Michelle’s surgery had changed her. She wasn’t the sweet girl who Nick had once known. The new Michelle he couldn’t stand; always walking around flaunting her goods and down talking others, especially him. Little did he know, he had created a MONSTER! He had to catch himself a time or two from breaking Michelle’s neck. He was better off staying as far away from her as possible before he ended up in jail yet again. The one thing Michelle didn’t know about Nick was that he had a mean temper, but she soon would find out.
Before touching the pole, she grabbed the sanitizer from the corner of the stage and a rubbing rag. The rag was completely dry. These dirty ass bitches don’t never sanitize this damn pole. Dusty ass hoes. Don’t give a damn about their health. Michelle scrubbed the pole like her life depended on it, wiping away any of the debris that was left from the ten strippers prior.
She tossed the cleaning supplies back in the corner and began putting on her show. Men moved to the front to watch her dance, practically fighting over the front row seats.
Charisma sat back at the bar, uncomfortably sipping on her Long Island Ice Tea. She couldn’t wait for Michelle to get done so they could bounce. The club was too damn packed for one and for two; it smelled like pure ass and chips. Above all, she was tired of all the men hitting on her. She sat with her nose turned up in the air feeling that she was out of her element.
Michelle took her time crawling to the front of the stage. Her glassy eyes stated that she was either drunk or high. For her it was both. There was no way in hell she could do this shit sober. She gla
nced out of the corner of her eyes and noticed Nick standing on the left side of the stage. He threw his thumbs up in the air. Refocusing on the men who gave her their full attention, Michelle sat upright and began rotating her hips in a circular motion while winding her upper body. She stared the men into their eyes, enticing them. Sticking her index finger in her mouth, she then took it out and slowly traced her finger all over her body.
The men were hypnotized as they followed her finger. She then stopped at the top of her thong. Teasing the men, she pushed it to the side before rolling over onto her back. She bent her body up in a bridge position and slowly removed the diamond-studded top that she had paid over $200 get custom made. Her silicone breasts fell over the top. They were so flawless that no one would have ever questioned whether they were real or fake. Regardless, they fit her. Back in the day, Michelle always hated that she was a big girl with no breasts whatsoever. Now she was in love with her new breasts!
Michelle got up and shook her booty just a little to tease the men even more. She then slowly straddled the stage in a split position making her booty jump from left to right.
She took her right leg and placed it behind her neck. The men went wild over her flexibility.
Her fatness was poking through her thongs. She was so turned on that a wet spot appeared right in the middle of her panties.
Michelle continued to put on a show for the next three songs. She had the crowd so turned up that the DJ gave her an extra song. When she was done, she gathered her money and walked over the stage leaving the thirsty bitches picking their jaws up off of the floor. She couldn't wait to go count her proceeds.
“All that fucking work for only $1500 fucking dollars!” Michelle cursed. She was so greedy that she didn’t appreciate that she made $1500 in less than thirty minutes while on the other hand some folks slaved 40 or more hours a week and it still took them a whole month to make that sort of money. She didn’t give a damn who was around. She pulled out her mirror and her goodies, prepping herself to go back out on the dance floor. As she was leaving out Nick was coming in.
Fiending for His Love Page 6