I Play for Keeps

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

ONE MONTH LATER

Things were getting better. Somewhat. Since I joined the strip club, I was making hundreds a night! And all I had to do was slutty dance on a stage and occasionally touch my chest, or rub my thighs. Sometimes, If I had done my homework, I’d take Hope out and play her in the streets. Even though  I was raking in enough money to buy mom and I microwavable Mac n cheese, plus cover her medical bills, I felt drawn to the music I played. In fact, I loved it.

“C’mere baby…” a forty year old man called to me, bringing me back to reality. I grimaced but quickly covered it up with my slutty smile. My heels clicked as I strutted to the end of the stage. He was standing and looking at my chest that was protected by a Victoria’s Secret Bombshell bra. Seriously, this thing had like an inch of padding, plus it lifted them so high, I could my boobs as a freaking pillow. When I reached him, I bent down so he could get a better view. Stuffing a twenty in my bra, and making sure he could touch certain areas, he yelled the worst thing that could be yelled at me.

“Dance for me.” And all of a sudden, a siren went off, and a pole lowered to front and center stage. The music drastically changed to a slow, pulsing beat.

“Looks like we got ourselves a DIRTY DANCER!!!” The DJ yelled, bringing all the attention on me. The strippers behind me, Cassandra included, latched themselves onto poles scattered around. They had an advantage over me. All of these girls “Dirty Danced” on a nightly basis. “And she’s a dirty little dancing VIRGIN!!!” What the man said was true. I was a virgin both pole and bed wise. But I guess there’s a first for everything.

The man who started this thing whispered something in the DJ’s ear, and he walked back to his standing spot. Abruptly, the song changed. I recognized it almost immediately. “Good Girls Go Bad” by Cobra Starship. How convient. I turned around and met Cassandra’s stare.

“Do what I do.” She mouthed, winking at me. Over the past month, Cassandra and I became pretty good friends. She was nineteen years old, and was the equalivent to the Play Boy of the Year in this club. All the guys wanted her. Bad. And she knew how to take advantage of it. Cassandra also knew why I was working in a strip club, and she said my age would remain a secret. Sometimes if she wasn’t busy, she’d even dance while I played Hope, which defiantly got me extra cash. She even offered to give me any extra money she had no use for since she made about $800 a night. Of course, I refused, but every two weeks, I’d find an envelope with around $100 from a “Secret Admirer.”

Glancing over my shoulder every ten seconds or so, I followed what Cassandra did. When she dragged her body down the cold, silver pole, I copied her. When she snaked her body around it, I followed suit. After about a minute, I began to ease up a bit, and I tried some more….kinky…moves. I threw my head back why lacing my arms and legs around it. The crowd went wild.

The crowd went wild.

And then, it hit me. An image so wild, so vivid and amazing, it almost felt real. I was on a stage, minus the pole. I was wearing jeans and a nice t-shirt. Hope was strapped on my back as I sang. The crowd went wild. And I jumped right in.

I jumped in a crowd full of hands ready to catch me.

As fingers laced around my boobs, I was jolted from my imagination. I jumped into a crowd. But it wasn’t a crowd of adoring fans, oh no. this was a crowd of monsters who only cared about my body. I tried to break free from their treacherous grasps. The attempt was to no avail.

The stage slowly became farther away from me. And suddenly, it ended. The touching, groping, all of it stopped. Music was still playing. Time didn’t stand still.

Someone saved me. I thought.

I looked up into my savior’s eyes, planning on thanking him, but the only noise that escaped me was a small, insignificant cry out for the man to let me go. He silenced my gasp easily.

By touching his lips to mine.