Catherine gyrated her hips with her arms wrapped around the pole, trying to
focus on her movements rather than the unpleasant emotions curling in her
stomach. None of her inner turmoil showed on her face, she was too well
trained for that. It had astonished her how quickly it all had come
flooding back. She had expected it to take a while to get back into it,
both the aura she had to give off and the supple movements she had to make.
While she had been a little stiff after her first few nights, her body
remembered it all.
All eyes were on her, and she guiltily had to admit to herself that she liked the feeling of power. But nothing could make up for the hurt she was going to cause Sara. She had been looking through rose-coloured glasses when she had first felt vaguely tempted by Mark's offer. Catherine had remembered the customers as less seedy looking. Some looked like smart businessmen, some obviously students, some otherwise-loving husbands, but no matter how different they were on the outside they all had the same look in their eyes. They all saw her as a sex object, not a person.
She walked slowly along the edge of the stage, swinging her hips, stretching her toned right leg out in front of several men on her way to have dollar bills pushed into her silk garter. It made her shudder inside, the way they took as much time as they could get away with, leering at her the whole time. She caught sight of Mark standing by the bar and the careful mask keeping her real feelings off her face nearly slipped as he met her eyes and smiled with self-satisfaction.
The song finished, the last one she had to dance that night, and she put on a mock sad face and waved bye-bye to the men over her shoulder as she went back-stage. Catherine breathed a sigh of relief as she changed out of the uncomfortable clothes into her jeans and red jumper. She said goodbye to the other girls and slung her bag over her shoulder as she pushed the back door open and got out into the cool air. She walked down the street towards her car, noticing every small sound after the noise in the club. The air felt fresh after the smoke and alcohol smell she had put up with for the last two hours and Catherine stood still for a second to breathe it in and clear her mind.
It was that moment he chose to step out of the shadows. "Kitty-Cat." She jumped.
"What do you want?"
"You know what I want. I'm willing to pay you $100, and a nice hotel room, no grotty motels."
"I'm not interested." Catherine tried to move past him
"Not interested? I've never met a dancer who doesn't turn tricks before!"
"Well, now you have." She again tried to push past him, but this time he pushed her backwards forcefully. She fell backwards when her heel hit the kerb and her head connected with the ground with a dull thud. The last thing she saw before she passed out were his long fingers on his belt buckle.
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Please, I'm begging now! Reviews are what I need to live!
All eyes were on her, and she guiltily had to admit to herself that she liked the feeling of power. But nothing could make up for the hurt she was going to cause Sara. She had been looking through rose-coloured glasses when she had first felt vaguely tempted by Mark's offer. Catherine had remembered the customers as less seedy looking. Some looked like smart businessmen, some obviously students, some otherwise-loving husbands, but no matter how different they were on the outside they all had the same look in their eyes. They all saw her as a sex object, not a person.
She walked slowly along the edge of the stage, swinging her hips, stretching her toned right leg out in front of several men on her way to have dollar bills pushed into her silk garter. It made her shudder inside, the way they took as much time as they could get away with, leering at her the whole time. She caught sight of Mark standing by the bar and the careful mask keeping her real feelings off her face nearly slipped as he met her eyes and smiled with self-satisfaction.
The song finished, the last one she had to dance that night, and she put on a mock sad face and waved bye-bye to the men over her shoulder as she went back-stage. Catherine breathed a sigh of relief as she changed out of the uncomfortable clothes into her jeans and red jumper. She said goodbye to the other girls and slung her bag over her shoulder as she pushed the back door open and got out into the cool air. She walked down the street towards her car, noticing every small sound after the noise in the club. The air felt fresh after the smoke and alcohol smell she had put up with for the last two hours and Catherine stood still for a second to breathe it in and clear her mind.
It was that moment he chose to step out of the shadows. "Kitty-Cat." She jumped.
"What do you want?"
"You know what I want. I'm willing to pay you $100, and a nice hotel room, no grotty motels."
"I'm not interested." Catherine tried to move past him
"Not interested? I've never met a dancer who doesn't turn tricks before!"
"Well, now you have." She again tried to push past him, but this time he pushed her backwards forcefully. She fell backwards when her heel hit the kerb and her head connected with the ground with a dull thud. The last thing she saw before she passed out were his long fingers on his belt buckle.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Please, I'm begging now! Reviews are what I need to live!