Journal Entries

Rookie

The Burlesque dance scene can be a lot now can't it. Twenty years and I go out like this, I tell ya the world is full of horrible people. I'm sure you've probably heard of me at some point in your life. "Veronica Chase LIVE from the MGM resorts in Vegas" or "Ronnie Chase in 'Jungle Fever' at the Arrowhead Pond Arena". It took one day though, one day for some perky tit piss ant to ruin my whole career. Now I've been doing this since 1999, or at least I was. I had never seen anyone that was as hungry as she was. For nineteen she had a banging body and every time we rolled into a city, the hands that weren't fondling my bare breasts were trying pull hers off of her body. They call her Goddess Braxton, but her real name is Jeanie Mae. The producers thought her name wasn't whorish enough so they rebranded her altogether. Took her to get breast argumentation (since everybody cares about tits nowadays) and then put a couple of pounds on her. I hated that bitch. From day one she walked in like she owned the place. Her close to perfect breasts swaying in the wind. I'd be surprised if some of our lesbian dancers didn't finger their pussy to her whenever she was backstage getting dressed. A country gal, much like myself. Born and raised in Austin, Texas and boy could you tell. That southern lovin' pride just oozed our of her body every time you spoke to her. When we first started our routines she was just like Bambi after he was pushed out of his momma's vagina. Stumbling all over the place, you'd think she forgot how to walk across the stage. I had to put a stop to that real quick because nobody makes me look bad. It's my show and I'm the main attraction not some two dollar child that we picked up from dollar store parking lot. I called her ass out about it. "What the hell are you doing back there darlin'? Square dancing? This ain't your mamas hoe down, this is Veronica's erotic dance show. Get your shit together." She gave me a nasty glare, I didn't care though. I needed lionesses as backup dancers, not young cubs looking to be babied until they get a part. So she finally straightened up and starting learning all the dance routines in the blink of an eye. I'd be lying if I laid here and told you I wasn't impressed. I remember one day we were going through a routine and she out-danced all the other girls without even trying. So the producers of the show came to me and asked if she deserved a part and I told them she did, with one loophole. She had to be my dance partner for when we were on stage. They unwittingly said yes and sure enough the next week, when we made our way to Albany, she was penciled in as my partner. Of course she wasn't too enthusiastic about it but hell, you get an opportunity like that you don't say no do you? Excuse me, I need to light a smoke. All this talking has made me kinda jumpy, especially considering what that bitch did to me. Ah that's nice, now where we? Oh that's right the show in Albany. So we get there and everybody is getting ready and all that and of course I'm in my personal dressing room. One of the choreographers busts in and starts yapping about "Jeanie wants to know how you want the routine done". I told him to tell her if she fucked up the routine, I was gonna shank her with one of the little keen points on our scant outfits that we were wearing at the time. He nodded and ran back to backup dressing room and told her. She didn't fuck up and everything went smooth. I did piss her off though. We did a spot where we had to remove our bras and squeeze our breasts against each other. I didn't smell anything on her or nothing, as a matter of fact she smelled quite nice. Like chamomile and magnolias. When we went backstage to change for the next routine I pulled her aside. I told her "Darlin' you ain't gone never make it far in life if all you smell like is a broke mans dick and your Grandma's stale apple pie," and I handed her a $100 bill. Told her to go get some nice perfume. She was mad but she swiped it anyway. Came back the next day with a Chanel pack from Macy's. She was keen to flash it in my face when were in the same vicinity. I gave her a mocking smirk and flipped her off. But that was the type of hazing that lit fire under girl's asses and made them work harder. That went on for about hmmm I would say about seven months. In fact she had gotten so good at the routines, that she had began choreographing the girls instead of being choreographed herself. I was proud of little sparky. The only thing I hated about her was that she was so cautious when she danced. Almost like she was afraid to mess up, and to work in this industry you have to go a thousand miles per hour at ALL times. So I did something to piss her off, something that would make her lose all the care in the world. Some kid from Dallas that she called a boyfriend, I slept with him. Connections were gracious enough to give me the location of their living space, so I waltzed onto Shelby Avenue where they lived and once he saw my trench coat fall to the ground, it was over. He tried, I use the word loosely, to fight off my advances but I'm a woman. Not a 20 something year old child who probably doesn't know what she's doing. So long story short, fucked him in their apartment, in their bed with no regrets. I even made him moan her name in my ear while he penetrated me hard and fast, and boy did he. Then later on that day, I called her to my dressing room and kissed her dead on the lips. After her shock wore off I asked her, "how does your boyfriends dick taste baby girl?" It took her a minute to piece everything together and when she did she was furious ha ha. Little bitch ran out of the room with tears running down her face. But sure as hell later that night, she danced with fire and passion. Hell I even caught a couple guys stroking their dicks to her through their pants. When we got backstage she could only frown as I ran my hands up her spine and asked her if she was okay. These damn cigarettes go like candy sticks I tell you, do you want one? I know their bad but they help me bring out my inner whore. I learned that from the little piss ant we're talking about. Where was I? Oh that's right, so....she ended up pushing me away with tears in her eyes. She cussed me out with all her southern glory and gave me the silent treatment. I would say it was about two months before she finally spoke to me. "Veronica we have to learn a new routine." I would've punched her in the face but I didn't. I told her to meet me at my place over in Glendale Heights and we could go over it together. I'm gonna let you in on a secret. We already knew the routine, the producers just wanted us to get along that way we wouldn't start fist fighting on stage. So she gets there hmm, I would say around 5 o'clock. She was still tore up about me fucking her little boyfriend but I told her: "Darlin' soon enough there's gonna be men, real men, paying you to sleep in their beds, hell you're boyfriend didn't love you anyway. If he did he wouldn't have slept with so easily". She gave me a glossy eyed glare but nodded showing her understanding. I hate to say it, but we actually had a lot of fun. I showed her my framed vinyls and my closet of heels that I wear every time I go out. After about an hour or two, I got the little skank drunk. Only took three shots of vodka. The little lightweight was giggling like she was a little girl being tickled at the doctors office. She told me to kiss her like I did before and I did. She drowned herself in that cheap ass perfume she went and brought but her skin was soft and I guess her body was aching for a touch. After all, she had dumped that child who was quick to ram his dick in me. I took her to my bedroom and we laid there, or at least I laid there. Her drunk ass was to out of it to know what she was doing. I pulled out a cigarette and she started reaching for it, and I almost smacked her square in the face again. She got bold and took them out of my hands and smoked one like she'd smoked them all her life. She looked at me and smiled each time she inhaled and blew out a misty cloud of smoke. As I laid there and looked into her eyes I told her, "Sweetie the world is a cruel place. I don't treat you this way to be a bitch (even though I am). I'm treating you this way so you can develop thick skin. There are people a million times worse than me in this business and in life. And if you want to deal with them all this emotion bullshit you have, that needs to go out the window." She nodded through her little green, drunk eyes. Then she asked me a question. "Veronica do you like me?" I slapped her in the face, damn near left my handprint on her cheek. She laughed at the sensation. "Honey, I don't like you at all. In fact I hate you, and if you had any sense you'd hate me too." She started looking at me after I told her that. The words may have been surprising to her but they were true. Nobody ever really likes you anyway, at least not in this industry. I took a drink straight from the vodka bottle and went to light another smoke when she started undressing. I looked her up and down. She was a fine little 19 year old, reminded me a lot of myself. She laid onto the bed and kept staring at me. We ended up sleeping with each other that night. She even climbed on top of me and lightly stroked my loins as she moaned how much she hated me in my ears. I liked it to be honest. She might be a young cub but her hands were experienced, more experienced than any other man I'd been with. I released myself on her fingers and she stood up, got dressed and left. Called me a "stupid bitch" on the way out. I smiled at the comment because now she was learning. When the weekly rotation rolled back around we went ahead with the routines, flashed our breasts, danced for the crowd and got our money. You know the usual thing. The other girls started to get suspicious, started accusing her of being a kiss ass to ensure she got lead role, which wasn't entirely wrong. She'd always come in my dressing room to snort some Crystal White and pleasure me sensually, but that was because I wanted her too. The tension was still there though. Jesus Christ I need another smoke, is that alright with you? You can open that window over there if you want. Ahhhh, they don't make these Newport's like they used to, but back to the story. As time went on, she would get more and more.... how do I put it....flamboyant. I'm the star, the only star of the show, but she was treating it like it was Veronica Chase and Goddess Braxton instead of just Veronica Chase. So.......I believe it was Madison Square Garden last uhm..... March. March eighteenth to be exact. We went through a routine and she started getting attention happy again and by that time I had got fed up of her taking my shine. Almost as if she started making it about her and not the real star of the show. After we had finished I was mad as hell when we went back to our respective dressing rooms. So I stopped at the top of the stairs and went off on her. "What the hell do you think you're doing out there?" She looked at me with a smug ass smirk on her face. She told me "Darlin' don't get so emotional it's just one show." I told that bitch that it was MY show and I'm the star of it, not some rank southern Texas whore. So then she called me a "old has been slut who can't get dick and has to resort to putting down others to mask her insecurities". So then I got angry and slapped her in the face again, harder this time and called her a "mis-talented fatherless whore who had to resort to showing her body to pay her mama's medical bills". She got s upset (and rightfully so) that she pushed me and I went tumbling down the steps. I fell for about ten seconds and boy oh boy when I tell you it hurt. Fucked up my leg pretty bad and tore my Achilles. Ended up with some bruises on my head, arms and back...but through all that pain, I was so happy. I didn't even cry or anything, as a matter fact I actually chuckled a little. I had been trying to retire for almost five years but they kept bringing me back and I was just so exhausted. She could only look down as they wheeled me away on the stretcher, but I could've sworn to God that she was smiling. Little whore came to visit me about a month later with some artificial flowers and a sympathy card. When I asked her why she pushed me she simply said "I just got upset". That was bullshit, I asked her for the real reason and she looked me deep in my eyes with a sarcastic grin. She intertwined her fingers with my own and simply told me she just wanted the part. That was the only thing that mattered to her when she saw me tumbling to the floor. Hell, I'd be lying if I said I didn't respect her honesty. I mean, how do you think I got my role way back in ninety nine? I was just fortunate to keep mine for damn near twenty years. Now I'm 38 and I have all the things I wanted in life. A nice man, a beautiful 4 month old baby girl, and a nice house. Jeanie Mae did me a favor. Before she left that day, I told her to make love to me one more time, for old times sake. She obliged and we had the most pleasurable act of female fornication right there in the hospital bed. After we had gotten finished she kissed me, slapped me in my face, and (with a smile) she left. I had taught her well and who knows, maybe in twenty years she'll have her a story of her own to tell. And it might involve another hungry rookie, looking to get the part.