Being a part of the Cabaret production at the KitKat Klub was no easy job, but it was undoubtedly entertaining. Today was no different.

After a successful night of performance, [being swung around stage, groped for theatrics, + dancing sleazily in a way that would disappoint your parents], you among other cast members made your way to the back rooms. It was in these rooms where dancers & patrons made love, and where people smoke and drank. Or both.

“Come hier, Engelchen.” The Emcee ushered you over with his finger, clicking with his tongue, his red lipstick slightly stained on his teeth, his black top opened, his chest decent with black circles concealing his areolar region.

“The schnap, right there. Go get it.” He pointed with his pale, bony finger to the alcohol nearby.

Once you turned around you felt a pointed shoe nudging your backside in the same direction. The Emcee laughed in amusement, dipping his head back as the other members in the room exchanged chuckles at your expense.

“Here you go, Arschloch.” You quipped.

Upon your return, the Emcee wasn’t quite done with you. Though his white face paint and makeup was smudged after his exhilarating show, you could see his amused grin.

He grabbed the bottle which was still in your hand, maneuvering it over his mouth. As it hovered, he opened his eyes and raised his brows, signaling for you to unscrew the plug and let it pour. ‘That lazy bastard!’ You thought.