Room Fourteen: Making Her Beg

VALENTINE

“Val’s really working it for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen, look how high she’s climbed,” the Black Daisy Club’s DJ calls out to the club’s patrons, an equal mixture of men and women watching me. I didn’t really pay much attention though, I was up very high on the pole. I needed the space for the drop I planned to perform when a few more beats of the song I’d chosen passed.

I was barely dressed, some would even say I was practically naked since all I had on was a couple of sparkly, dark blue pasties over my nipples and a dark blue silk thong that barely hid anything. This was the end of my set, and my last performance for the night. I’d give my audience what they wanted and then rake up the money they threw at the stage floor.

My parents didn’t provide me with a silver spoon in my mouth when I was born so this was the only thing I could do to make money. Well, I could sell my body as some of the women in the club did, but that wasn’t on my bucket list of things I wanted to do. Although, I could be tempted into one of our private dance rooms if the right client came along, but that didn’t happen often. I made enough to keep me going plus a little to put away for a rainy day without going beyond dancing.

I spotted a familiar face, a handsome face in the crowd, but acted as if I hadn’t. I ignored the way my heart kicked hard on an extra beat when I saw him and continued through my routine. Derek, a blond with the most heart-stopping blue eyes I’ve ever seen, was my father’s best friend and the star in more of my teenage fantasies than I cared to count. When I was a little girl, he’d been the prince I was going to grow up and marry, even if my stepmother sneered at him behind his back. When puberty hit, he was the object of all of my hormone’s desires. Which lead to a lot of masturbation when I figured out what that was about.

He wasn’t the only star of those fantasies, but he was one of them. The main one, maybe. He also owned the club I’d eventually started out as an exotic dancer in.

The tune changed beats, and dropped, completing my set, gaining a roaring cheer from the audience. I came to the end of my set with a bow, gathered up the money on the floor, and waltzed back to the dressing room on six-inch heels that threatened to kill me with one bad step. Part of the reason I waltzed so slowly off of the stage was because of those shimmery, shiny blue heels.

Fast footsteps resonated right behind me across the stage. I turned quickly at the sound, slightly confused, only to find a man from the audience launching himself at me.

My heart slammed into the back of my throat at how fast he came at me, how quickly he grabbed hold of my arm, bowling into me.

“You’re mine now, girly. No other man is going to ever look at you in this stage again,” he growled through a mangy looking gray beard as he knocked me over, and my knees gave out from under me. I knew my hip would be bruised as soon as I fell down, I could feel the impact go right through my pelvis. “You won’t be a slut for anyone but me, girl. Get up. Stop crying.”

Panic gripped my lungs as I pushed against him.

He pulled at my arm with meaty hands, managing to drag me up, but I fell over again when my foot slipped in the heels. A sharp ache zipped across my ankle as it twisted, and I cried out in pain as his hold on my arm chafed my skin. I glared up at him, ready for murder.

“That’s enough,” he spat at me, his breath reeking of onions and beer. “Stop your crying and get the fuck up.”

I wasn’t crying, I was growling with anger, ready to punch this asshole in the balls as I pushed myself up, but Derek was there already. Derek grabbed the bastard with at least a hundred extra pounds on his frame and shook him like he was little more than a dirty tissue, just as my fist raced out, punching empty air.

“What are you doing in this club, fuckface? You’re on the wrong side of town. You know this club is my territory.” Derek’s words ground out between clenched teeth, his blue eyes drilling into the dark eyes of the rival biker’s. The man screwed his face up and tried to spit at Derek, but Derek jerked the man away by the collar of his dirty T-shirt.

“Fuck you, she’s mine. Get the fuck off me.” The man swung out at Derek, but Derek threw him down and kicked him in the ribs before he followed the man down, punching him the face several times then he sat back up.

I watched, furious that the guy attacked me, and cheering for Derek to kick the asshole’s butt.

“I told you that you were on the wrong side of town,” he growled. “I don’t care who you think you are, you Shiners don’t belong on my territory.” Derek had a fist still bunched in the neck of the guy’s shirt, his angry face partially hidden by a well-groomed beard. My dad’s best friend never looked at me, he kept his eyes glued to the man that had invaded our space and tried to drag me off the stage.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think, pal. She’s mine. Get the fuck off me.” The man, his face now covered in blood, glared up at Derek. I knew that was a bad idea, Derek didn’t play around.

“That’s it. You’re done,” Derek hissed in a voice so low I barely heard him. But I did hear him and knew that if the guy managed to survive tonight, he’d have learned a lesson. Whether he heeded that lesson was up to him, but he’d learn one. Derek dragged the man off, several of his crew trailing along behind him, ready for the festivities to come.

I didn’t want to think about. I was familiar with violence, too familiar, so more didn’t really phase me, but it could put a damper on the rest of my night. One of the other dancers rushed up once Derek had dragged the guy off to help me get up. “Are you okay, honey?”

I released a shaky breath, holding myself together as this wasn’t the first time a guy thought it was okay to get handsy with the dancers. “I’m fine, thanks Mindy.” I looked over at the other blonde girl with a smile while she picked up the cash I’d dropped on the floor. “I think my pride is hurt more than anything.” I tried to laugh it off, but it came out sounding almost choked. I was brought up told that if I said I was fine, then I wouldn’t fall apart. Most of the time it worked. Right now, I still felt taken aback.

“Jerry’s going to be pissed when he finds out about this,” Mindy whispered, her left arm around my waist. Behind us the crowd applauded, cheering for me loudly.

I waved my free hand at them to show them I was fine but answered Mindy at the same time, “He’ll just have to get over it. It’s not my fault some sicko jumped me.”

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Mindy quickly said back, her brown eyes wide as she stroked the long mane of her ponytail, a hairstyle created by hair extensions Jerry, the manager of the club, had paid for. Mindy was his girl, and everyone knew it. “I meant he’d be pissed that someone from the Shiners MC showed up at his club.”

I sighed in relief once we made it to the red couch in the dressing room, sinking down to take off the heels and breathe easy. “He probably will, but Derek’s taking care of it.”

I wasn’t part of Derek’s motorcycle club, The Loco MC, although I was kind of an honorary member since I’d known him from the time I was kid. The Black Daisy Club was also in his territory, and he often spent his evening’s here, having dinner, drinks with his crew, or just watching. But only watching, as far I knew. Unless I was on the stage, then his face sort of went blank, his eyes would be on the stage, but I wasn’t always sure he was watching me. Even if I wanted him to watch me, even if I practiced ceaselessly and created routines in the hopes that finally that blank look would turn to interest.

It never had.