Page 12 of Seduced By Contract

"Was that supposed to be funny?"

"It was. You're very tense, love. Try to relax. It will be alright."

I enter the dressing room, turning his words into a kind of mantra.

I can do it, simply because there's no alternative. This week, I went shopping for clothes for the twins, as their onesies were getting too tight, the buttons about to burst. I also restocked the fridge with fruit, milk, and yogurt. At eleven months old, they are healthy babies who don't miss a meal. For them, no sacrifice is too big.

Ten minutes later, however, as I look at my semi-naked body in the mirror, I feel terrified.

The only man I've ever been in front of wearing so little is Adriel. On the day I came to SIN for the first time, he needed to take my measurements to order some costumes I'll have to wear.

I do a full turn in front of the mirror. The panties are a thong with a black bow at the coccyx. The bra, slightly transparent, seems inadequate to cover my full breasts. There's also a garter belt, stockings, and a pair of very high heels to complete the look.

I'll leave my hair down and hope it helps hide my face.

I've practiced with Adriel—with him pretending to be a client—and it seemed relatively easy, but now, faced with the imminent prospect of being alone with a stranger, I'm sure I'd much rather be on stage a thousand times. A closed room seems too personal, and I don't like getting intimate with strangers.

Not intimate, silly. A dance. Just that.

A nearly naked dance.

Oh Jesus!

I pick up the short purple silk robe that matches the panties and bra set and put it on. Instantly, I feel more secure.

I look at the mirror again.

"Gracias,"I practice.

Yeah, not so bad. I can do this.

I walk down the hallway, where a security guard is waiting for me. I suppose he will be the one staying until the performance is over. I'm not sure if I'll have to work the rest of the night on stage.

"Through here, Madison," he says, pointing me down the various corridors.

I don't find it strange that he knows my name. I guess it's part of his job to remember the girls' names.

Adriel told me each performance lasts about ten minutes, but there are cases where the client wants more than one song.

Please, Spanish gentleman, don't want that.

We arrive in front of the curtain, and the music hasn't started yet, of course. I'm the one who will press the remote control to start it. There's a pre-selected playlist chosen by Adriel. Sensual songs, fun to dance to, and if the context were different and I were just a customer, I'd love to tear up the dance floor at the club.

I slowly pull back the curtain, looking down at the ground.

The lighting is brighter than I anticipated. I thought it would be dim, but despite the reddish light, I can clearly see the mansitting on the couch with his legs extended on the floor, his head leaning back, and his eyes closed. However, as soon as he realizes he's not alone, he straightens up, sitting upright and staring at me.

I lose all the air from my lungs.

The man is gorgeous. Not the kind of common beauty you might find on any street corner, but the kind you can't look away from.

His square jaw is covered by a short beard, and he has a mouth with thick lips but compressed into a thin line, contained. As if he doesn't allow himself to show what he feels. There's coldness and superiority in his masculine features. Cynicism, I guess, as if he's lived too much and despises everything he's seen.

The strange thing is that neither of us speaks or looks away, but when he sizes me up from head to toe, I remember the reason I'm here and force myself to act.

I pick up the remote control from the little table to the right, trying not to shaketoo much, because I know his eyes are following my movements like a predator about to attack its prey.

The thought is ridiculous, of course, but the man arouses irrational sensations in me.

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