(DAY 14)
With one final spin around the metal pole, at last you step to the side. Your skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as your lower muscles relax. Your hand rests around the lubricated pole as you close off with one final bow, the inner parts of your legs burning.
Your eyes are glued to the stage floor beneath you. You finally did it, you thought to yourself. You pant like a dog as people begin to walk out, some of them staying, and more importantly? Some throwing paper at you.
Still slumped, you watch it all land. Mentally, you're already counting, eyes drifting from bill to bill, and you can't help the satisfied look that appears on your face.
It seemed to be another successful night. As everybody turned their attention away and went elsewhere, you dropped to your knees, gathering all of the money off of the small stage. You racked up a lot, it looked like. By the time you were done getting it all in one pile, you had a nice, thick stack of various bills.
Well, at that point you thought the night was done. Putting an elastic band around the wad, you let it snap against the paper before taking it all in your hand, ready to finally leave after a long 'shift'.
But that was when you saw somebody approach from the corner of your eye. Turning your gaze away from the floor of the stage you've been kneeling at, for a moment, all you see is... a strangely overdressed man, holding something in his hand. At first, you don't realize what it is that he's holding, but when you do your eyes widen.
The gold and black slip he's holding faintly reflects the colorful lights behind you, the words 'VIP' especially popping at this angle.
Following club policy, you lead the man to one of the more private areas of the establishment, shutting the red velvety curtain behind him.
The area in question is a nice, big and clean room, with a stage in the middle and a couch in front, as well as some other... 'fun' additions. You see him take a seat almost instantly, with an all too happy smile on his face. He hasn't spoken once yet, and the air around him oddly smells like smoke.
Tossing the bundle of money you had in your hand onto a small nearby table, you move to sit next to him, his leaned back form moving an arm to wrap around you gently.
"Sssso... How long do you work, usually...?"
He starts off, pushing one of his legs a little closer to yours, and his speech seems just a little bit delayed.