Naughty Possession

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

I, Channell Sauvignon was in desperate need of a drink. A strong drink.

I sat in front of a dressing mirror surrounded by blinding lights, staring blankly at my reflection. My eyes were bloodshot, drawing focus to the large, dark bags under them. My skin looked unusually pale despite the caramel rich color of my skin. And my hair, Dear God, my hair had taken on a dull, lifeless look which made me look hopeless and destitute.

'How can I even consider going out there?', I wondered.

I had been given an ultimatum tonight. Either I trick or I split. My new boss, the fat sleazebag, was only trying to make me do it because he knew I was desperate. And dammit, I was just desperate enough to consider it.

Today was by far the worst day of my life. And I truly didn't think it could get any worse. In a series of seven hours, I was given a notice to evacuate my place, a pink slip in my inbox informing me on my current unemployment and finally, I had to beg the sleazebag, Oscar, to give me one more night of work, hence the current situation. I had never imagined being in such a situation only two weeks away from being twenty years old. I liked to think was far too young to be so miserable. But I guess misery couldn't give two flying fucks about any of my shit.

Brushing back the stray hair on my face, I leaned into the mirror looking for — something. I was a good person so why was I here?

I pushed to my feet taking one last glance at the mirror. This would be my last night working in this god-forsaken strip joint. My last night biting my tongue because I needed money to pay bills. Tonight I had to put my morals away and get on that stage to secure tomorrow. And tomorrow I would worry about the next day.

I slid my body into the scanty thong and brassiere, disgusted with myself and the feel of the cool, conditioned air touching places I never expose except for necessity.

Walking back towards the dressing mirror I applied as much makeup as I possibly could until my face resembled that of a cheap doll. If I was going to go through with this I was going to make sure I was not recognized.

"Channell!! Channell!", my bitch of a boss, Oscar, called walking into the dressing room.

Scrambling, I hurried to cover myself with a stray sweaty towel just in time to look up and see his fat face holding a sly smirk.

When Oscar's father managed the club there was at least a certain level of standards to be followed, they weren't extremely high but they were there. Giano, Oscar's father, had only relinquished the club over to his son about three months ago and already what used to be a classy gentleman's club had been turned into a sleazy strip joint.

Oscar was known for his disgusting fetishes and as the club's new owner and thereby the boss, He had been given free reign to delve into his perverted desires. The stories that floated around about the abuse he dished out to the dancers as well as the blackmail and rape were among some of the not-so-best-kept-secrets in the city. But with Oscar also being the brother to the state's largest drug cartel ring-leader, no one said shit.

"The Beautiful Channell. Come ere.", he demanded. I wasn't naturally shy by any means. I had too strong a personality and too much pride to let any shame or fear show in my face. Or at least I hoped so.

Walking towards the slimy bastard I dropped the dingy towel, silently praying I wouldn't catch anything from holding it.

"Yes, sir", I drawled as I looked him in the eye, my voice sweet as saccharine and seductively venomous. I already knew the only way to get through this night with my money and without a visit to Oscar's bed was to play his game.

He reached out one chubby, damp hand to glide across my jaw, a predatory glint in his eyes. Eww.

"I always thought you were so beautiful Channell, real pretty and your skin flawless." Bile rose in my throat and my stomach churned fiercely not only from his words but also his touch.

I tried to take a step back before his hand could find its way down to my crystal lace brassiere. Walking quickly past the grotesque man I plastered a fake smile on my face and responded to Oscar's earlier comment.

"Well, thank you Oscar." I moved around quickly, "Sorry, I have to go. Meina is about to finish. I saw the money in my account earlier, so I'll go hold up my part of the agreement." Grunting in response, Oscar turned to watch me exit and I could feel his eyes glued to my ass.

I climbed, or more like tumbled, my way up the stairs. Whosever idea it was to put industrial net stairs on the backstage entrance was either an idiot or a man because whoever they clearly had never worn 10-inch, spike thin heels while walking up these stairs.

I finally made it to the top and took a look around. I had never been back here since I was hired as a bartender. I'd danced before, but only at a really small club for a week and we got to stay dressed for the most part.

Gathering my wayward thoughts, I inhaled some of the smoky air. Unwrapping the towel, I placed it on the handrails. Time to bring out that inner siren.