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No matter where I looked, I saw danger. Every man in here was viewing me not as a dancer to admire and not touch, but a private whore to use as he pleased. Each time a dancer was led toward a private room at a guest’s request, my stomach tensed with dread.
Out on the main floor of Stanley’s, we could reject requests for private dances.
Back here in the VIP party, it seemed more like it was an expectation. Bouncers didn’t referee here. The Mafia men’s soldiers were the ones in charge, and I had yet to see any dancer turn down a private dance.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
Why? Why did I have to cave and tell her I’d do this tonight?
When I danced and stayed on stage, the balance of power was clear. For the usual audience,Iwas the one with all the power.Imade all the men look at me and they waved and tossed their money tome.
That was off-kilter for the VIPs. I didn’t feel like an entertainer, but prey. Predatory gazes tracked me everywhere, and I did my best not to panic that I’d be forced into an orgy or taken away as a private sex slave after this.
Why?
Why the hell did I ever tell her I’d do this?
Trying to move between one low-seating area to another—hoping that staying mobile would keep me safer—I tried to find Nevaeh again.
I’d never consider her a friend after this. I couldn’t. Nofriendwould coax another into subjecting herself to being preyed on like this. There was no escape. All these guests operated under their own philosophies of law and order, and I had zero protections. A bouncer wouldn’t come and tell this old geezer to keep his hands off me. No managers would kick a guest out for fucking his hand right in front of me.
Oh, fuck.
I blinked once at the sight of Nevaeh sucking a guest’s dick. Right out here. Not even in a private room!
You lied.
She didn’t have my back. If she wasn’t careful, she’d beonher back, right out here in the open where the private rooms equaled a whorehouse for VIP guests with the right price.
I’d only agreed to come here if we’d stick together, but all night long, she’d left me to fend for myself. Facing drunk, high, and otherwise messed-up men was nothing new. I was an experienced stripper and dancer and before tonight, I could’ve said I’d seen it all.
“Hey, over here.”
I cringed inside as I turned toward the man’s voice.
A tall man stood at a table with a couple of others seated at either side of him. Greasy-looking with too much sweat on his brow and a hazy stare, he seemed to be two seconds from passing out. Blood trickled from a needle point at the hollow of his elbow.
Oh, fuck. No, no, no.
I didn’t do drugs. Nothing hard. Nothing minor, either. My life was already hellish enough without the fear of being intoxicated mixed in.
“Yeah, you, Blondie.” He stepped forward to summon me closer, holding his hand up and beckoning me to come with a crook of his finger. The instant he left the support of the column behind him, though, he nearly fell flat. Shaking his head and retreating to lean again, he smiled and laughed. “Here. Now.”
I froze. Mentally, I panicked and wasn’t sure how to ease out of this situation. He hadn’t said what he wanted. It could be that he merely wished for a lap dance once he sat, but something in his gaze warned me to stay away.
Swaying to the music so I wouldn’t be singled out for losing “character”, which was an order so long as I was on the clock, I drew closer but out of their reach. One of the men in a chair swiped his hand out for me anyway, and I used the change in tempo of the music to dodge him.
“Closer, bitch. My friend here has been waiting for a blonde…” The man who was so wasted he could barely stand gestured for me to come to his buddy. Sure enough, he had his dick out of his pants. He stroked it, disregarding the blisters of pus on its head.
I recoiled, just catching myself from grimacing at the sight of his infected dick.
Hell to the fucking no.
I wasn’t touching that thing. I wasn’t even going to breathe the same air as them. Keeping my distance as the lights flickered and strobed overhead, I saw how these three were even more unkempt and grosser than the other VIPs.
No way was I getting a disease from them.
“Suck him,” the high man ordered. “So he can fuck you.”