Honey Trap

Chapter Eight

*This chapter contains sexual scenes that could be categorizes as rough. While completely consensual, I urge all readers to understand what they do and don't like, and use discretion when choosing to continue through this chapter*

Violetta.

          It was a club night.
          Nikolai called me after work, letting me know I needed to head directly to the club. By five o'clock, the alcohol had worn off and Maddox had hardly spoken another word to me. The only time he talked to me was when he asked me for a reminder about his three o'clock meeting. I begrudgingly sent him the zoom link, for the third time, and tried to block out the sound of him talking business with the head of the account.
          Making my way through downtown, I followed the familiar streets for the club. The neon blue sign of Nightingale lit up the dusk settled sky. There were already a line of people waiting out the door. I hated the club, but I had to hand it to Nikolai and Alexie. When I met them, this club was just a pipe dream. They wanted to stay in the business of selling women but try their hand at doing it legally to see which made more money. The club made more than their prostitutes, but they'd decided not long into it that they enjoyed having multiple sources of income to support their lifestyle.
          Really, this was my club. It was my stolen money that gave them the revenue to fund this place. I turned their pipe dream into a reality, building it up over the years so it grew from a slummy underground strip club to a relatively high class one. On the weekends, the crowd was rowdier, so I wasn't excited for tonight being a Friday. The weekdays were usually pretty tame, mostly businessmen stopping in for some stress relief after a busy day.
          My phone buzzed in my pocket, a text from Nikolai asking me where I was. I sent him a quick reply letting him know I was here as I shoved past the line and through the doors. Some men whistled at me, assuming I was a dancer, even though I was dressed like anything but.
          My eyes scanned the dimly lit club. Sophie was on the stage, topless, dancing to something mellow and sensual. That answered my question of whether or not she was the reason I'd have to dance tonight. If not her, one of the girls must have come down with something or quit. Well, tried to quit. The ones who quit always come back. Nikolai and Alexie can be very... persuasive in getting what they want. They have an impeccable retention rate.
          Nikolai spotted me from the bar, putting his cigarette out in the ashtray sitting atop the wooden bar top and turning to walk to me. His face was shrouded in annoyance and frustration, letting me know that tonight, it would be in my best interest not to respond to him with any quick wit remarks. I was seriously not in the mood to meet the back of his hand tonight. Turns out, having a real job was pretty exhausting. I was waking up too early, leaving too late, and being kept up into late hours of the night to satisfy the needs of Nikolai I'd neglected while being gone.
          When he reached me, his strong hands wrapped around each of my arms, squeezing tightly. "I needed you here thirty minutes ago."
          I bit my tongue—wanting to tell him that thirty minutes ago, I was working, at my real job. Working on the mark he was adamant we get. "Sorry, I got held up at the office."
          "You sound like a high-class bitch," he snapped.
          I didn't ask him what was wrong. He would tell me later tonight when he needed me to alleviate his stress. Instead, I changed the subject. "Where do you need me?"
          "You're on stage in ten. Sarah was in an accident; she can't do her set."
          "Is she alright?"
          "Who cares?" He shrugged, turning away to go back to the bar and drink himself stupid.
          If I were a good person, I would be concerned about Sarah. She'd never been mean to me per-se, but I didn't care for her, just like Nikolai said. What I was really thinking about, was what Sarah did as a dancer. Half the people in this club were probably there to see her. She was the club's top seller, probably why Nikolai was so pissy. She was well known for dancing full nude and pulling it off like no other. She also had the most sets. Most of the girls had a three-song cap, but Sarah danced for five. The girl never seemed to be short of moves and capturing the crowd.
          Me, on the other hand, could hardly make it through one song without staggering around stupidly towards the last thirty seconds. I was going to screw Nikolai over with money. At the end of the month when he did his closing, he'd see the numbers for today dropped and remember that I was the one who danced. Like getting money could make him happy, losing money could make him very angry.
          But that wasn't for another two weeks. I wouldn't worry myself over it yet. I would just have to remember to stay drunk that day and steal one of his Oxy's before he started with me. That combination always helped alleviate the pain when he decided I needed to be punished. I wasn't often lucky enough to take it beforehand, but it always helped after. It made me completely numb. I wouldn't even feel the hits until the next day.
          I slipped into the back of the club, undressing in front of the girls. All of us undressed in front of one another, it would be odd for us to get worried and insecure about our bodies.
          The outfit Sarah was supposed to wear is a red two piece. The top was sequined with some strings of fake jewels hanging like tattles. The bottom was a thong, also bedazzled. I slipped it on, moving awkwardly with its stiffness over to the shoe rack and donning some red stilettos. The finishing touch was the lipstick, deep, blood red.
          I glanced at myself in the mirror, unable to notice how much better the ensemble would look if I had my deep brown hair again. It would contrast so much better, make me look like a true devil with the face of an angel. The blonde hair dulled it, made me look like I was wearing someone else's shoes. Literally and figuratively.
          Stacey, one of the newest dancers, came up behind me. "Are you nervous?"
          "Sort of," I lied. I was more than sort of nervous.
          I'd only met Stacey once before. She was a college student at the local community college, came from a bad home or something. I didn't feel bad for her though—she was eager to be a dancer. She'd heard this was the best club within a thirty-mile radius and practically begged to be hired on. Someday, she would regret it. I'd seen too many girls come through these doors with ambitions for a better future, only for them to end up sticking around until they were strung out and undesirable. Being a dancer could be alluring at first. The glitz, the quickness, the money. Somebody should be telling these girls it doesn't last, none of it does, but that person wasn't about to be me.
          Stacey balanced herself on her heels. "I was nervous my first set, too."
          "It's not my first set," I told her, peering behind the curtain to the part of the stage I could see. Sophie's final song was about to end. I'd be up next. "I've danced before."
          "Oh," she frowned. "Of course. I just thought... you know."
          I frowned at her. I wasn't really interested in what she had to say, but I figured, fuck it. I might as well get the gossip and act like one of the girls here if I had to be one for the night. "What do you mean?"
          "I didn't think you were a dancer because you're Nikolai's girlfriend."
          I blinked, not letting her see how much the words girlfriend and Nikolai being spoken in the same sentence made me want to puke. "We're not together."
         "Really? But you two are always..."
         "I know," I interrupted, already knowing what she was going to say next. "We fuck around. Doesn't mean we're dating."
         "Don't you two live together?"
          "Alright, she was starting to annoy me. "Your point?"
          "Sorry, I shouldn't be asking."
          She wasn't completely stupid. "No, you shouldn't." On the stage, Sophie's song ended, and she came strutting back behind the curtains of the stage. My breathing shifted, growing heavier in my chest. It was my turn. The song Closer by Nine Inch Nails began to play, letting me know it was my time to shine. With a final look towards Stacey, I smiled. "Word of advice, Stacey. If you want to survive this place, learn when to shut the fuck up."
          I watched the smile slip from her face as she turned sheet white. Served her right for sticking her nose where it didn't belong.
           Breathe, Violetta. Five songs. Twenty minutes, and you're done.
          Twenty minutes, I could do twenty minutes.
          If it were Sarah walking onto the stage, I would be hearing whistles and hoots from the men in the audience. When I walk to the stage, its eerily silent. The silence, other than the song playing in the background, doesn't do well in easing my nerves.
          Stupidly, I looked for Nikolai in the crowd to find comfort in his face. He was still sitting at the bar, looking straight for the stage. His face was twisted together, still angry. It was probably a mixture of knowing he was going to lose out on money tonight and the fact that I was dancing. Each time I danced, it pissed him off because of the stupid claim he had over me. Even though this was Sarah's set, and she went nude, I knew better than taking anything off. I could tease, show everything but the spots solely reserved for him and my marks. Nothing more.
          You let me violate you.
          The first words of the song began, and I found the pole. I slid my hands around the cool metal, slick with perspiration from the clammy atmosphere. Lowering myself, I let my legs spread wide, knees touching the back of my heels.
          You let me desecrate you.
          I put my hands on my knees, wrapping them around myself to pull my legs apart even more. I felt the burn in my calves as they shook beneath my weight, my balance wobbly from the heels. Don't fall, don't fall. Please, don't fall. Somehow, I managed to stay balanced, pushing myself up and using the pole for support.
          Wrapping my legs around the pole, I spun around, arching my back as I slid back down. I kept sliding until my back hit the ground, my hair falling over my face. A man in the crowd whistled, telling me to let me see the goods. Feeling a slight sense of reassurance at the man, I did as he asked, flipping over and laying on my stomach, pushing up my breasts so they were spilling out of the tiny top.
          Another shout followed by a holler.
          I wanna fuck you like an animal. I wanna feel you from the inside.
          I pushed myself up into a sitting position, pulling my legs apart. This wasn't a part of the set, I knew this, but I had to do something. People were throwing money on stage, but it wasn't enough. Sarah would have had this stage littered in bills by now. Thinking fast, I closed my eyes, slowly trailing my fingers from my breasts, down my stomach towards the top of my red thong.
          My whole existence is flawed.  
          One deep breath, and I stuck my finger in my pants, finding my pussy. My fingers were slick as I felt myself, feeling a hot sensation all over as I rubbed against my clit. The crowd began to go wild, full out animalistic screams as the money thrown began to grow. Nikolai could punish me for this all he wanted, but he wouldn't be able to deny the money being tossed onto stage right now.
           It still wasn't enough.
          The crowd needed more. I needed to give it to them.
          Using my other hand, I pulled the thong to the side. It wasn't far enough where they could see me bare, but it was enough to where they could see where my finger was headed. I pushed a finger inside of myself, throwing my head back as I did so, opening my mouths to gasp at the feeling. It was all too much. The feeling, the pent-up frustration, the countless eyes all watching me.
          The hair on my neck stood, something bringing my eyes forward to search through the crowd. They glanced over the audience. It was hard to see with the lights shining down on me, but I found his eyes in the crowd. The eyes I would never be able to unsee. He was there, sitting a few rows back from the stage with his hand wrapped around the glass of liquor so tightly it looked like the glass could shatter beneath him.
          Maddox was there, at my club, watching me touch myself.
          I wanted to look away, to look anywhere but at his face, but I couldn't. He was watching my just as intensely as I was watching him. Dressed more casually than normal, he was wearing a pair of black jeans and a partially unbuttoned white shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves. I couldn't get read of his face. He was... blank and expressionless, the only thing giving off any hint of emotion were his eyes. But with them watching me, I couldn't think of anything else other than the growing sensation between my legs.
          I was still rubbing, still fingering myself, and I realized I was getting close. I was about to cum because Maddox Aster was watching me.
          You're acting like a dirty little slut, Isla.
          His words were burned in my memory. How I liked the way the vulgar words slipped past his lips, how I would rather be feeling his mouth on my clit instead of my fingers. Tears swelled behind my eyes, unexplainably. He'd called me a slut, but I never wanted him to think of me as... this. As a fucking stripper who touches herself in front of a room of strange men. He would never be able to look at me again. He would fire me, erase me from the world he'd somehow managed to suck me into.
          No, I couldn't let myself cry.
          My fate was sealed because Maddox Aster decided to show up here, but I had a show to finish.
          Pulling my fingers from myself just as the first song ended, I kept my eyes on him, bringing my hand to my face and sticking my index and middle finger into my mouth. I bobbed my head, sucking off my own juices as he watched. Coolly, he lifted the glass of liquor, taking a sip and swallowing heavily.
          Those eyes would be the death of me.