Page 2 of The Dollhouse

Holding in a sigh, I set the heels down in the locker and bent to unzip my strappy sandals. Not sure I should be barefoot on this floor, but whatever. I went to trade my shoes with her, but she shook her head.

“I have extras in my office,” Autumn spoke, frowning. “A lot of you girls try to get away with stuff, especially in your first week. Don’t worry, you’ll learn what’s expected of you soon enough.” Since she wasn’t turning around and leaving, I figured that meant she was waiting to see me strip.

My fingers went to the bottom hemline of my shirt, grabbing it and pulling it over my head, exposing my black bra and the giant tattoo on my side.

My new boss nodded once, the frown on her face finally disappearing. “Oh, yeah. They’re going to love you. Now finish up here and get out there. Crystal should be almost done on the pole. You can shadow her for the night.” Saying nothing more, she spun on her bare feet and walked away, disappearing into her office, her door only labeledManager.

This time, I let the sigh out as I reached for the heels and slid them on before closing my locker. It wasn’t like I’d never walked in heels before; it’s more like I didn’t want to spend the next six hours in them. I didn’t have a choice, sadly.

I walked to the door, glancing down at myself to make sure everything was still tucked neatly away—didn’t want any accidental nip slips—and then I walked out into the Dollhouse.

The place wasn’t too large; the main stage sat front and center, the bar on the left. There were a few more private seating areas on each side of the main stage behind the chairs circling it. Men of all ages sat around, drinking, eating, and laughing at each other while they ogled the other workers as they walked by. Most of them, though, stared at the beautiful blonde woman currently wrapping her legs around the main pole.

Crystal was only a few years older than me, but when she wore tons of makeup, she easily looked like she was thirty. Double-Ds for tits, a flat stomach anyone would be jealous of, and calf muscles that could probably pop your head right off your neck if used properly.

I stood off to the side, my intent to wait until Crystal was done and a different girl was up on that pole. Eventually, I’d have to go up there, too. Give these patrons a show. Not yet, though. Right now, I still had to learn the ropes.

Someone grabbed my arm, and I turned to meet the eyes of another woman. Her tits were out, though they weren’t nearly as large as Crystal’s or even mine, and she wore some kind of lacy thing over her lower stomach and lady bits.

Oh, yeah. My parents would have an aneurysm if they knew I was working here. Maybe it was too spiteful, too vindictive, but I kind of wished they would.

“You’re the new girl, right?” the woman asked. Though she held onto my arm, she carried a small tray in her other. Her eyes were a bright green, done up by dark, smoky makeup. Diamond studs rested in her ears, her hair short.

I nodded.

“Great,” she said, handing me the tray. “Go over to Jamie and tell her that table three wants another round. I have to pee so fucking bad.” And then, before I could ask her who the hell Jamie even was, the woman hurried away.

Looking around, I spotted a few other women working the tables. Who the hell was Jaime? I never got an introduction to anyone else here. They kind of just threw me out here and expected me to know everything automatically? Autumn had told me to wait for Crystal’s dance to be done, but the last thing I wanted was to annoy a coworker on the first day. Making enemies here was not smart, not when I was desperate.

Me, desperate for money. Not a thought I ever thought I’d have, but here I was.

My eyes landed on the bartender, a dark-skinned woman who was busy mixing up some drinks. Was she Jamie? I honestly had no idea, but another round for table three meant more booze, and that was the bartender’s job.

I headed over to her, waiting until she turned around to speak. A rather tall woman, she wore what looked to be a bathing suit top and a pair of shorts. The door to the kitchen was a short ways down, where the food was cooked. Nothing too fancy, from what I’d seen. Bar food, basically.

See? I wasn’t the only one wearing shorts. Although, I guess you could say, Jamie was stuck behind the counter all night. She wasn’t the one serving anyone drinks or food. What did it matter if her ass was covered?

“Jamie?” I asked, causing the woman to stop and turn to look at me.

“Fresh meat,” she said, grinning. Her hair was thick and curly, her eyes so dark they were near black. “Yeah, I’m Jamie. What’s yours? I see Autumn didn’t hold a meeting to introduce us all. Typical of her, throwing you straight to the wolves.”

She might’ve thrown me straight to the wolves, but I went willingly. What did that say about me?

“I’m Zoey,” I said, setting the tray on the counter. Not many of the stools near the bar were full; most of the men were either at their own tables or watching Crystal swing her body around and bend it every which way. “I’m not sure who, but someone said she had to pee and that table three wants another round.”

Jamie chuckled. “That’s a table Ruby’s taking care of.” She set down the mixer she was currently using, leaning over the counter to look hard at me. “Have you thought about your stage name, hun? Most girls around here use them, for obvious reasons.”

Crystal and Ruby… yeah, I could see it. “What about Jamie?” I asked. That didn’t sound like a fake name to me.

“It’s my middle name,” she said. “If you want advice, Zoey, pick a name and stick with it. There will be creeps who’ll come up in here, who will zero in on you and decide you’re their new favorite. Everybody wants to take a stripper home.”

Probably good advice, something I should heed. But, then again, what the hell did I care? Maybe if I used my real name it would somehow get back to mommy and daddy. The real question was if I was spiteful enough to put myself in danger when it came to creepers just to stick it to my parents.

The answer to that was always yes. So much yes, it bordered on unhealthy.

“Thanks for the advice,” I said, tossing a glance over my shoulder to see that Crystal was finishing up her dance. Men threw money on the stage for her, and she bent over, letting them stuff some of the bills into the string of her thong.

Jamie spoke, “I’ll get those drinks for you.”

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