AUTHOUR'S NOTE:
Hey everyone! I'm back! Hopefully with more regular updates.
I opted to shorten this chapter to around half of what my typical chapters are because I wanted to know: Do you, the readers, prefer shorter chapters such as this one? Or longer, more in depth chapters such as my previous chapters?
Drop a comment and give me your opinion, because I would like to know what I can do to be of better service to you as an author.
With that all being said… Enjoy "Red's Showgirls"!
April 13th, 1943; Tuesday (6:20 PM)
Bulbs in varying shades of white surrounded a large neon sign that boldly displayed "Red's Showgirls" cast their warm glow onto the afternoon rain drenched cobblestone street below. The protective arm of Hans Landa snaked its way around his mistress's waist as they approached the front entrance that led to a high roller's nightlife. Three men stood there, one at a podium monitoring and recording the attendance, and one at each of the two doors of gleaming red and gold that stood closed tightly before them.
Poured into that Alexander McQueen gown again to make an ideal first impression, Krista forced her excitement back down into her body when she finally found herself face to face with the blonde man at the podium. "How may I be of assistance to you?" he asked in French, his eyes shifting between Krista and Hans.
Krista adjusted the heavy leather bag that was slung over her shoulder when she felt the knot in the strap dig into her skin almost painfully, and offered the man a soft smile. She replied in French. "I'm here to audition for an entertainer position."
"Names, please," he said simply, lowering his view to the leather-bound attendance book that lay open on the podium.
"Krista Jäger and Hans Landa," she replied, watching as the man visibly shuddered at the mention of Landa's name. In that fraction of a second, the entire mood had shifted, and the air being inhaled into their lungs with every breath felt painfully thick with tension. It was clear that this was a French man, and he wasn't too jazzed on him being the 328th cocky German intelligence officer in his face that night. Krista tried her best to ignore that, because she had much bigger fish to fry.
Once those red double doors opened to reveal what they contained, Krista's eyes lit up and began to sparkle. Her signature red lips curled up into a smile of near childlike wonder crossed with disbelief. As if being in Paris in the 1940s wasn't unrealistic enough, when you add a sprinkle of strip club, it becomes even more unrealistic.
She had an alarming thought just at that moment that she should have had much sooner. Who was she to meddle with time? Who was she to travel to 1940s Paris and do whatever the fuck she wanted? The conclusion she settled on was inspired mostly by Rick and Morty. She had decided that she was simply on an alternate timeline where her actions and antics did not alter her own timeline, just her current one. When in actuality, it was much more complex than that.
As Krista and Hans made their way into the club, she found herself unable to focus on one single aspect of the club. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each draped with a translucent red fabric to add both extra decoration and a red cast of light. The simple red lighting transported her back to her early days of dancing in Milwaukee.
She next noticed three stages, one on each side with one pole, then the much larger, main stage in the center of the room with two. Up on the main stage were two young dancers, one clad in red, and the other in a stunning navy blue. It was at that point that Krista decided that she couldn't care less what Hans thought about the place, because she was in heaven. She was dying to get up on that stage and command every customer's attention.
Krista felt a gentle weight fall from her waist, and she forced herself out of her daze. "I'm going to sit by the stage." Krista nodded. "Good luck, beautiful," he told her in German before dropping a deep yet delicate kiss to her painted red lips.
"Danke," she replied in a husky whisper, nipping at his bottom lip before releasing him from their all while acting like he didn't slip in that damn pet name again. She still hated when he called her that, even though she should be beyond used to it by now. It was still irritating to her though, and likely always would be.
Beside the main stage was a band that contained a variety of instruments. This was arguably one of the strangest parts of this club. When one is accustomed to attending a modern day strip club, they all have, say, a DJ. No, no, no. Red's had a whole ass band. No DJ station near the stage calling the dancers up by their stage names; no DJ to jokingly harass the customers into throwing money on the dancers. She could only imagine what the club music from the forties was like. But then, she paused for a moment, her eyes absentmindedly affixed to the bar. Krista allowed the music to dance into her ear canals. There, she allowed it to marinate. She grinned when she solved the mystery, and sang the lyrics in her head. This was just too weird… "I been fuckin' hoes and poppin' pillies, man I feel just like a rockstar." She could hear Post Malone's smooth singing voice in her head, and she wasn't even mad. Aside from the music source, everything was very similar to any of the number of clubs she had worked at. Even the floor plan seemed familiar. She already had so many questions for this… Red.
"You must be Krista," an American sounding English voice came from behind her. "I heard I was supposed to be seeing another girl to audition…" Krista spun around, her false lashes fluttering when she blinked. A pleased smiled claimed Red's lips. She looked Krista up and down in a manner that any normal person would be offended. "But I didn't expect a girl like you." There was a moment of silence where they simply exchanged expressions. "Where do you dance?" Red finally asked, her eyes glued to Krista's.
Krista scanned Red, in search of something… anything in her eyes that would be an indication not to share the intimate details of her actual life. But she thought for a second: If Red already could tell that Krista was a dancer, there was no reason to lie. "Ocean."
Red's grin widened as she looked Krista over a second time, her eyes lingering on all of the glitz on her gown. "Chicago. I'm impressed." She circled around Krista, checking her body at all angles. "I have one more question for you, Miss Jäger," Red stated as she began to circle around the potential dancer before her.
"Of course."
Red quickly asked. "Stage Name?"
"Nina," Krista answered smoothly and confidently, paying homage to her very first dancing gig fresh out of the Marine Corps.
Red was now stopped before Krista with her arms crossed across her chest. "Listen. I'm going to hire you. But I still want to see you on stage. So go get changed and head up. You're on deck." Red pointed to a red velvet curtain toward the back of the club beside one of the side stages. "The locker room's that way."
Krista nodded and hiked the bag's strap up again and began to walk away but stopped. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Absolutely," Red answered, closing the space between the two of them.
"Where do you dance?"
Red hesitated for a moment before letting out a sarcastic laugh, and acting like she hadn't been bothered with a question. "Top off by the second song," she said in a snarky tone before turning away.
Krista wanted to make an impression with this audition above anything else. With that being the case, she had dug through her closet at home for her all time sexiest and most luxurious dance outifts and shoes. She paired a strappy harness set with straps in all of the right places to accentuate her moneymakers. She clipped her garter belt that covered her flat stomach to the tops of her fishnet stockings before sliding into the same Flamingo booties she had been wearing the night before. She quickly applied a pair of black pasties to cover her nipples, and fastened the open cup harness bra around her body. After a quick once over in the mirror, she rifled through her leather duffel for her Stiizy. After two long drags on a fresh Strawberry Cough cart, she could feel the THC begin to grasp hold of her brain and after a while she knew she'd get that creative boost to push her audition over the edge.
The crowded group of people around the stage were ready for a show. Krista strut her way toward the main stage, stopping behind Hans momentarily to drop her lips down to his ear once she saw the banknotes in his lap. "Are you gonna throw that for me?" Krista purred in English. She let the tips of her fresh acrylics graze across his shoulders and she sauntered up to the stage.
She quickly cleaned the pole with the rag and soap that was beside the stage, and applied a healthy amount of Dry Hands pole grip before at long last approaching the pole. "I want you all to put your hands together for the beautiful Nina!" Red called into a mic as Krista gripped the pole. When she felt her hand give way slightly, she knew that she had been blessed with a spinning pole. Knowing this now, she wished she had stretched before heading out onto the floor.
Krista hoisted herself up onto the pole and held herself while she spun in a circle as a handful of members in the crowd began to clap as the steaming hot spotlights found their way to her.
She allowed herself to slowly slide down while still spinning, giving her the opportunity to display her flexibility with a simple side split. When she stood up and faced the crowd, she noticed the whole of the club was silent while the music began to play. She paused, rolling her neck so that her long locks were free to flow behind her back. When she figured out the tune of the song, it was simple for her to decide how she should be dancing. It was slow, kind of calming… Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji. Not one of her favorite songs to dance to, but this way she was able to focus on her pole work rather than actual dancing.
The calming beats of the music consumed her body unapologetically, and suddenly, it was as if she were dancing for Hans, and Hans alone. She sought him out in the crowd of eager spectators, and focused on him. Her dark, devious plan was to turn him on to the point of explosion because she knew that while at the club, he couldn't have his way with her.
Reaching up, Krista gripped the cool metal pole with one hand at chest level, and the other as high up as she could possibly place it. Hans was watching her very intently, and she could tell. She had felt that gaze before. Somehow, that was exhilarating to her, and it made her want to push herself to perform better. Holding on with a strong grip, she began to spin around while using the patent leather that covered her ankles to assist her in climbing higher on the pole. With graceful movements, she crossed her ankles tightly to maintain an iron grip on the pole with her inner thighs. She let her body naturally fall into a layback position, her long hair now dragging on the floor. Using her core strength, she pulled herself back up on the pole, and switched positions without touching the stage.
That was when the shower of money began. The stage was now crowded with people clapping and cheering because Krista was unlike anything they had ever seen. With her dominatrix appearing outfit, the guys were hard in the pants and ready to throw their pay checks to her.
Krista next gracefully slid from the stage and made her way to Landa. The crowd's eyes followed her every move, curious as to what she could possibly be up to. Slowly and sensually, she moved to straddle his lap and place her hands gently on his shoulders. "Would you like a dance, Colonel?" She asked him in smooth German.
"Yes, of course," he replied to her. His body temperature was rising with every movement of her skilled hips over his painfully hard cock. He needed her. This teasing game of hers was one that she was very skilled at playing. She knew how to push his buttons. How could he have possibly let this woman figure him out so quickly?
When her hands slid down his chest in tandem with the rhythmic rolling of her body, he was about to burst. When he felt her soft lips on the shell of his ear, his grip on the chair tightened, and his eyes fell closed at the sound of her voice. "You wanna fuck me, don't you?" she asked him with in a hushed tone.
"I'm going to, darling. Don't you worry about that." Money fell from above her as she continued to assault every single one of his senses. Her dancing was such a sweet sin to him; he wanted her to stop so that he could calm down and regain his bearings, but he didn't want her to stop because it was keeping him just on the edge of ecstasy.
When she put a deep arch in her back, naturally, her hips ground down into his and he wanted so badly to squeeze her and pull her impossibly closer to him.
His heart rate picked up as his breathing did, and he found it very difficult to not moan at the thought of her hands slipping slightly further down and into his pants.
Krista finally stood back up, an overly pleased smile gleaming on her face when she saw Hans all red in the face and panting. The crowd around them cheered and clapped, clearly entertained by Krista's ways. "Take it! Take it all!" He exclaimed with a last smile, throwing his hands up and allowing her to the cash lying loose in his lap. She dipped down slightly to place her hands on his knees, spreading them apart easily. Krista slid down to her knees between his legs and pressed her breasts together to scoop up the banknotes. She made sure to maintain eye contact as she brushed her hand over the bulge in his pants after standing up to get back on stage for the remainder of Slow Dancing in the Dark.
He would pay her for this now, but she would pay for it later.