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Light burst into the room and I closed my eyes in pain. The
harsh
“Wake up cunt,” he yelled from outside and slammed the door shut.
I opened my eyes wide and looked around the now dark room.
My alarm clock read
“Room Service,” he yelled, his voice easily penetrating the paper thin walls. I closed my eyes for a second and listened as there was a thud and then a door slammed in the background. You know how in the morning it feels so good to just close your eyes and pretend you can sleep all you want…
The club opened around
Dragging myself out of bed, I put on the same old jeans and shirt, looked at the same tear on the shirt, and reminded myself to get a new one. Nothing ever changed here; it was a dead end. I was only 19. It was an unspoken dream among the strippers that one day, Prince Charming would find you, and you would spend the rest of your life a housewife…
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“You’re late,” Rick told me as I walked into the club. I ignored him. Grabbing me by the wrist, he spun me around and told me again, “You’re late.”
Rick was good at 2 things, hurting people and collecting money. He had no problem abusing the strippers, so long as they could still work that day. Bruises were a problem with him. Even knowing that, I still had to force myself to be polite with him.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, biting my lip and avoiding eye contact. He never did anything worse than slap me. So far. Christy smiled at me encouragingly behind Rick as she walked by and rolled her eyes. Just as I smiled back Rick slapped me in the face and stuck his face inches from mine. I knew better than to scream.
“If this happens one more time, Candy…” Rick just turned purple and shoved me away. I almost ran away from him and towards the back of the club, holding a hand over my cheek.
Candace was my real name, but ‘Candy Cane’ was my stage name. I hated it, and Rick knew that. Like I said, Rick was good at hurting people.
Christy was like a sister to me. We met in the orphanage, and a few years later we both ended up in this sleazy little club. We usually stripped together at ‘The Eager Beaver’. What can I say, it’s better than working as a hooker.
Practically all of us at the club were poor, skinny girls that had no families. We called an older fat bartender ‘Pop’ and someone else ‘Mom’. It isn’t that weird, if you think about it. We never had families before.
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With a scrape and a grunt, Pop sat down across from me at the little table. There was a clink as he set down a bottle of jack daniels on the table, but kept a firm grip on the neck. I reached for it and he laughed as I tried to pry it out of his meaty hand.
"Fuck you," I told him, letting go of the bottle and putting my head back in my hands. I was 'on break’; basically hiding in the back room until someone found me and forced me back on stage.
"Come on," he goaded me, "say please..."
"Please," I said tonelessly. I kept my expectations low and figured he’d just laugh and go tell someone where I was. Instead he set the bottle down on the table and slid it across the table to me. Whenever he offered me a drink, it was always accompanied by some bad news. His way of taking pity, I guess. I didn't care; as soon as I got the bottle I turned it upside down, with the neck pointing down my throat.
"Yeah, ok, that's enough," he decided, watching some of the whiskey drip down my chin. I never had any money, and free drinks were rare in this sleazy little club. Strippers weren’t supposed to drink on the job. I also had about 0 tolerance for alcohol; after one or two drinks I was certifiably drunk. Trust me, that's a good thing.
"They're looking for you back stage," he told me.
"Yeah well... they'll never find me," I told him, and laughed in a semi-drunken way. It was probably the expectation of getting drunk that really made me act stupid, but honestly, I didn't care. Whatever works.
"Uh huh, and when they find you they want you to do that special show again," he told me.
"What!?" My head cleared magically.
"Oh yeah," he said taking a sip of his own from the bottle. "And it gets better; Christy is in private so you get a new partner."
"Fuck you," I told him, putting my head on the table again and covering my eyes. "They won't find me."
“Wanna bet?” he asked. I just rolled my eyes, pretending to sleep with my head on the table.
The next second I felt the table push up on me, and I shut my eyes instinctively as I literally flew backwards with the table in front of me. I landed with a groan on the floor, my head spinning. What the…? The table made a huge racket as it bounced on the floor and broke in half.
“What the fuck are you doing here!” Rick yelled at me. I was lying on my back with my hands over my face, and Rick walked over until he was standing practically on top of me, one foot on either side of my waist. Pop mumbled something from the side and I saw Rick grab the bottle out of his hands.
Holding the bottle by the neck and smiling dangerously, Rick took it in one hand and swung it against the wall. I screamed mostly in shock as a shower of glass and whiskey fell to the ground inches from my face. Rick was still holding the jagged neck in his hand and laughing.
“Get up!” he yelled, still standing over me. I didn’t waste any time sliding out from under him and standing up, holding the wall for balance. Before I even fully stood up, he shoved me against the wall, pushing against my crotch with his knee. I felt a push on my neck and turned my head sideways as he forced my head into the wall.
“The next time I catch you hiding here,” he whispered to me, “I’m gonna shove this bottleneck up your cunt and out your mouth, got that?”
I was breathing shallowly, unable to see him behind me. He pushed his knee a little harder against my crotch and I gasped for a second, imagining him fucking me with the broken glass. I was shaking unsteadily against the wall.
“What’s the matter,” he continued whispering in my ear, “are you scared?” I screamed and closed my eyes as he smashed the remaining bottleneck against the wall right in front of my face. My knees were shaking so bad, all that held me up was his leg pushing up against my crotch.
The next second, there was sound of a door slamming and Rick was gone. I turned around, leaning against the wall and holding onto it for support.
“You ok?” Pop asked, taking me by the wrist gently. I nodded, still in shock. “You better go,” he said quietly, and nodding again I walked after Rick in a daze.
As soon as I was alone in the hallway I stopped and put my head in my hands, trying to calm down. I never came that close to getting beaten up before. I mean sure, I’ve been in this for only 2 years and, yeah, the job sucks, but I never believed the stories all the older strippers told you about…
My left knee was still shaking uncontrollably. I vaguely wondered why and adjusted the latex miniskirt I was wearing. I was wearing nothing underneath it, and any deviation in posture would basically flash my pussy right in your face. The bra was one of those stupid latex things that basically framed your tits, with a narrow band that went across and covered your nipples. I felt more naked in this outfit than when I was totally nude.
I shivered slightly and leaned back, breathing deeply. I knew couldn’t wait here too long, so I mentally prepared myself and walked on. Rick would be expecting me there like right now and I didn’t want to imagine what would happen if I ended up alone with him again…
As I walked towards the ‘backstage’ area, I vividly remembered my special ‘show’ with Christy. We did a stupid little lesbian Dom/sub trick, and inevitably I ended up the sub. I’m not actually a ‘sub’, and it was all fake. Really. I found it extremely crass, with the whole collar thing and following Christy around on a lead.
The crowd apparently loved it. The owner of the club had us do a repeat. Then another. The show turned into his one and only management strategy; when sales were low he had us perform. When sales were high he promised another one ‘in the near future’. Eventually everyone got discouraged and sales went down again. Etc.
I walked into the area directly behind the stage and saw Rick smiling in the corner. Keeping my eyes down I tried not to make any noise as I walked towards the makeup table. Kind of hard to do in 4 inch heels. Thank god Rick didn’t say anything, but he kept leering at me from the corner.
Mom immediately found me and sat me down in front of the mirror, fussing over my face and muttering to herself. She was an older woman, 40 I guess, and she helped you with the makeup… stuff in general. I never asked her directly, but rumor had it she used to be a stripper too. She had clearly fake tits, and I guess at some point no amount of nose jobs can help anymore. I felt really awkward around her; she was always too nice. Never figured out why.
I felt something cold on my neck and practically jumped out of the seat in panic.
“Chill, Candy, I’m just putting on your collar,” someone I’d never seen before said behind me. ‘your collar’. I opened my mouth to say that I wasn’t really a sub or anything but she cut me off before I even started.
“So I heard you’re the little sub around here.” She seemed very confident, bordering on rude. Again, she never waited for me to answer before continuing.
“You usually do this with Christy, right?” She fit the collar around my neck a little tight and I put my hand up to massage my neck.
“Don’t worry, I won’t choke you,” she laughed. I wondered who the hell she was anyway. Looking at her in the mirror, she certainly dressed like a hooker. She never adjusted the collar and it felt uncomfortably snug around my neck. Attaching the lead, she gave a little tug and pulled me out of my seat.
“Ouch,” I complained, holding the collar. I noticed how Mom practically jumped out of the way when the woman walked past her.
“Get down,” she said strictly, pointing to the floor. I figured she was Christy’s replacement. Swallowing my pride, I got down on all fours. Rick was still leering at me from the corner. She walked purposely towards the stage and pulled on my collar again. She was taking this whole dom thing a little too seriously, I thought to myself as I struggled to keep up with her.
The lights on stage were blinding, as usual. It wasn’t actually that light in this area of the club, just the lights pointed at you. Especially when you were on all fours.
The stage consisted of a roundish space with 3 poles on different ends. I never did the center pole if I could help it. It attracted too much attention, and attention wasn’t a good thing. Even the tips were shit after the club’s cut. And it wasn’t worth it; you had a bigger chance of getting called out private.
When the dancers saw us coming on stage, they stopped and walked out in various stages of undress. I thought one of them was familiar… it was Christy? I though she was in private. As she walked towards me on her way to the exit she looked at me and mouthed something at me, surprise all over her face. I tried to tell her something as she walked by, but she couldn’t hear me.
I turned my head around, following her with my eyes. She stared back confused. This wasn’t fair, I was supposed to do this with Christy, not…
I felt my neck crack as there was a violent pull on the leash. I struggled forward until the leash was slack, trying to catch my breath. Looking up at the dom angrily, I saw her cracking a whip in the air.
Turning to me, she smiled evilly. I scowled back, still on all fours. “Call me Mistress,” she said out loud. Speaking on stage was an unspoken taboo, but once she broke I didn’t care either. People close to the stage could probably hear us.
“Fuck you,” I said holding my neck in one hand. There was an audible smack as she whipped me right in the ass. I closed my eyes and gasped out loud. Jesus, I thought that thing was for show.
I hear catcalls from the crowd, followed by a ripple of laughter. Turning red, I looked at the crowd for a second. They stared back gleefully and I lowered my eyes in shame.
‘Mistress’ was still smiling, caressing her whip. “Spread your legs, Candy,” she said in an annoying baby voice. I just wanted this to end, so I spread my knees a little. I was sort of facing the crowd, so they couldn’t see anything they didn’t see already.
“Wider, Candy,” she said sweetly, putting the whip between my legs and pushing my legs apart. I flinched at the touch, thinking she had hit me again for a second. I wiggled around a bit, but didn’t spread my legs any wider. Who cares, it’s not like the crowd can see at this angle. This a show, right Ms. I-Like-Roleplaying-As-A-Mistress?
“Aaahhh!” I screamed out loud as she hit me right on the pussy. I jerked and felt the leash go taut, my throat constricting. Pushing forward in a panic, I tried to move in a direction that would let me breathe again. The pressure finally relaxed and I took a deep breath, my pussy still stinging. The crowd was making a loud racket in the background, yelling and laughing. This wasn’t funny anymore.
I shifted my weight back and began to stand up, holding the leash in one hand. As soon as I got to my knees the ‘Mistress’ whipped me as hard as she could right in my breasts, no longer smiling. I closed my eyes in pain and suppressed a scream. She pulled on my leash but this time I pulled back, getting her slightly off balance.
“Fight! Fight!”
The crowd was in an uproar as she gave up pulling on my leash and continued whipping me as hard as she could. I whimpered under the onslaught, letting go of the leash to protect my face. As soon as she saw me let go of the leash she pulled on the lead with all her weight. I thought my head was going to rip off as I fell onto the ground heavily, cowering under the blows. She wasn’t even particularly aiming anymore, just hitting me as often as she could, anywhere she could.
I heard something land on the stage with a smash near me. There were shouts from the crowd. Lying in the fetal position in the middle of the stage, I was afraid to open my eyes. My entire body stung from the whip, and I sniffled softly to myself.
“How do you like that, slut,” the mistress said to me nastily, hitting me in the ass again. I jerked but didn’t open my eyes.
“Open your eyes, cunt,” she said, pulling on the leash until I choked. I opened my eyes just in time to see the whip descend on my face with a loud slap.
Screaming in pain, I held my hand up to my face, rubbing my eyes and crying. Something had hit my right eye, and I shut it tightly. It was burning in pain and I whined loudly, rolling onto my back still holding onto my face.
I heard a commotion around me, and the lead landed next to me on the ground. There were loud voices coming from the stage, and I heard the mistress yelling something. The pain was so intense it blocked everything else out, and it didn’t dull with time. I was writhing on the ground in pain and clutching my face when I felt someone pick me up under the armpits.
Unable to see and tripping on my heels, I walked blindly with someone heavily supporting me. Letting me down slowly, I sat back down on the floor and leaned back against the wall. In my left eye I could see that I wasn’t on stage anymore; the light wasn’t as bright.
“What happened?” “What’s wrong with Candy?” “Are you alright, Candace?”
The only person that called me Candace was Christy, and I forced my left eye open, still holding my right eye tightly shut with my hand. Christy was kneeling next to me, her face inches from mine.
“I’m ok,” I said, a little embarrassed. I still had the collar on. The pain in my eye had dulled, but I wasn’t going to open it anytime soon. The whole incident hadn’t even lasted 5 minutes. It was an extremely bizarre blur in my mind right now.
Looking around, I saw a bunch of the other strippers standing around, talking loudly to each other. Mom was in the corner, mumbling to herself and gesturing violently. I couldn’t figure out why we called her Mom.
Christy was wiping my face, and I tried to push her away. Rick walked up behind her, the rest of the strippers keeping him at a distance. Christy looked at me a little hurt as I pushed her hand away again. I only wanted to protect her from Rick.
“What do you want?” I asked Rick loudly. Christy turned and noticed his vast figure towering over us. He had a bloody scratch down his cheek, but he looked genuinely happy. He looked like he was having the time of his life.
“What’s that?” Christy asked, pointing at him. Rick’s eyes narrowed for a second as he stared at Christy. It was like he was remembering her face. The strange look vanished as quickly as it appeared.
“That bitch has long nails,” he said gleefully, talking to the entire group of strippers. “I kicked her out of the club a minute ago.” The room was suddenly really quiet, and you could hear Mom still muttering in the corner.
“What bitch?” someone asked.
“The one that rearranged Candy’s face,” he said laughing, pointing at me. I didn’t see any comprehension on their faces. Few strippers watched each other’s shows, and no one had actually seen what happened. Luckily, no one was bold enough to ask any questions.
Squatting down, he pushed Christy aside and looked right at my eye. I felt so small next to him, and flattened myself against the wall, holding my right eye tightly. Reaching forward, he pried my hands away from my eye. Christy tried to stop him, but he completely ignored her. I couldn’t erase the image of his face staring at her, and pretended I was ok to get Christy to stop. She was extremely protective.
Without my hand holding my eyelid down, my eyes opened painfully and I blinked rapidly. Everything was blurry in my right eye and I shut my eyes as tears flooded my right eye. I wasn’t crying; it was just the eyes normal reaction at this point. Only it didn’t look like that. I was afraid for Christy.
My eyes were closed so I didn’t see it, but I heard a slap and a yelp. Opening my eyes quickly, I saw Christy’s face turned away and Rick’s face turning back to me. Forcing my eyes open and blinking, I tried to smile.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m fine.” I started standing up.
“See, she’s fine,” Rick said. The manager of the club, a short, fat little guy was standing next to the mob of people around me. He was the only guy Rick actually respected. He was chewing something and smoking a cigar, looking extremely stupid and more than a little high.
The manager nodded and walked away, Rick following him like an obedient bulldog. Christy looked back at me and smiled, the red imprint of a hand on her cheek.
I stood up unsteadily and unfastened the collar. The crowd of people around me had broken up; the music came back on, and Mom was doing another girl’s makeup at the table. Rick was back a second later.
“Go fix your makeup,” he said pointing at me. “The guys that didn’t go outside to rape that bitch are lining up to private you.” I actually felt sorry for her before I heard the end of the sentence. Having a private with someone was bad news.
Obediently, I walked towards the table, winking at Christy. I sat down in front of the mirror again and froze midway – I saw Rick leading Christy away by the elbow. They turned the corner and were gone before I could react. There’s nothing I can do about it, anything I do will only make it worse for her I told myself; but I still had a nagging guilty feeling, Mom came over and began helping me out in that awkward, overly gentle way.
Christy put it all on the line for me, and all I did for her was watch…
Thanks for reading! If
you have any comments, feel free to email me at turgidity11@yahoo.com
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