SIX INCH HEELS

A long Prologue

( A/N: The following story has mature content. Recommended to be 18 or older. You need to follow me to read it)

"Jane, you're up next. Hurry the fuck up!" Matilda (my boss) yells at me. Yet it's quite dificult to focus on the words coming out of her mouth when her giant pink wig, giant (forehthead) mole and oversized plastic boobs are on the way of my attention.

"I'm going, Matilda, jeez" I answer.

"Y'know?, putting on sparkly bras everyday is harder than what it looks like, but I guess you've had more practice than me." My attitude responds. I hear the chuckles from the other girl's that are changing backstage.

As a responce to my smart mouth ; Matilda grips my wrist a little too tightly in annoyance. She's taller than me by a lot. Her muscular body and broad shoulders made her a threatening woman.

"Keep talking like that and I'll throw you out" she looks down on me with a mean whisper and I look at the sparkly black polished floor, avoiding eye contact.

Matilda always threatens to throw me out...and she would, if I wasn't her star player.

All the other dancer's are in clean words: older.

I'll explain:

She needs my young and innocent skin to attract the public. I mean, Would it really be a Strip Club if it didn't have a 19 year old college drop out working in it?. I have shoes to fill and she knows it.

I hear as the intro of Pour some sugar on me start on the other side of the curtain and I know, it's time for me to get my butt onstage. Matilda let's go of my hand and I rub my wrist. Looking at her with "fear".

But I wasn't really scared. She isn't able of truly harming another woman.
Males, she had no problem with kicking in the balls out of. Hell, she got money out of it.

Matilda is the goddam owner of the strip club, she daily sees many unfaithful husbands walk through those door's as soon as they open. Always like a routine; a few days later the outraged trophee wife would show up (once she'd found out about their husband's dirty habits), requesting that the next time Matilda saw their husband's faces enter the establishment she gave them a round kick in the balls.

Beating up Men was no problem for Matilda...but hitting, firing or sending another woman off, was. You see, she has her own backstory of abuse with her ex-husband. Long story-short it endend in her alone and owning a strip club.

She had to put on attitude in the workplace with me. Set an example to the other girl's by picking on me. But I know that she'd hate herself if she left me alone in the streets; because she's already been and honey; New Orleans ain't a pretty place to be alone on the streets in.

Knowing all of this: I acted scared whenever she threatened me (Even if most of the time the threats where empty). I set an example for the other strippers and Matilda gave me free mojitos in exchange.

I might only be 19 but I'm the longest running employee in this place. Strippers come and go. As soon as the others find themselves a sugar daddy that takes care of them; they are out those doors. But I hadn't found my sugar daddy and I didn't really want to leave... this place needs me. Also believe it or not, Matilda is my only friend and basically my family.

But hey who knows? Maybe one day I will buy a saxophone and join a jazz club. But spinning on a pole sounds more fun, at the moment. What was I talking about? Oh right. Matilda is family.

Maybe she should have spent the money of the boob job in getting that mole out of her forehead ,but at 53 she was a nice lady and loyal companion.