Page 2 of Play the Game

A soft breath escapes my painted lips, and there’s a pit of disappointment growing deeper with every shift I take at the Cat House.

Don’t mistake the name for some sort of sanctuary for kittens.

It’s more of a sanctuary for horny men who like to get their rocks off to women on poles who send flirtatious smiles their way. My coworkers deserve Oscars for faking interest at the sight of their semi-hard cocks and nauseating smirks.

Nerves feast away on my exposed skin, and my eyes water when I catch my reflection. I’m in nothing but a skimpy pink bra and matching thong. I’m all for lifting other women up. If their life goal is to be a stripper, then I will root for them day in and day out.

For me? It’s not a goal or a dream. It’s a fucking nightmare. Just like this auburn-colored wig on my head.

The only perk? Fast cash.

“Want a line?” Chastity pours some white powder onto her vanity, and I quickly tear my gaze away.

Kitty scolds her with an exasperated sigh. “You know Cherry doesn’t do that type of stuff.”

I shove away any memory that tries to surface. If it wouldn’t make me look insane, I’d cover my ears with my hands, like I used to do when I was a child. That way, I could tune out the sound of snorting, but instead, I remain poised with my hands down by my sides as I balance on heels that are too high.

The smell of Chastity’s perfume cuts through her boozy aroma, and she sniffs a few more times before coming over and draping her arm around my waist. Her metal chastity belt knocks against my hip as she dangles its key in front of my face.

“You know what will give us hefty tips?”

Russ peeks his head into the dressing room—having absolutely no respect for our privacy. Then again, we are half-naked on a stage, so I’ll cut him some slack. “Other than that enticing chastity belt you’re wearing?” he says, interjecting himself into our conversation.

Chastity flips her hair over her shoulder and blushes at the half-assed compliment. “It’s a clever little skit to go with my stage name, don’t ya think?”

She doesn’t wait for Russ to answer. Instead, she turns to me and dangles the little golden key in front of my face again. My eyes follow it like a pendulum as it swings back and forth. “Put this in between your cleavage.”

“What?” I stare at her full face of makeup.

Her eyebrow arches, and she smiles deviously. “If you want more tips, you’ll put this in between those bomb-ass tits and let them grab it so they can undo my belt.”

Russ claps his hands together. “That’s fucking brilliant. There’s a whole gang of hockey players out there that will go nuts. They’ll be eager to graze those tits.”

Hockey players.

“What happened to the no-touch rule?” I ask, clearly panicked.

“Stop pressuring her to do shit she doesn’t want to do.” Kitty shoves Russ off to the side. She snatches the key from Chastity’s hand and puts it in her cleavage instead.

I exhale, and it’s obvious to everyone in the room that I’m uncomfortable. My boss crosses his arms and sends me a disapproving glare, but little does he know, I look at myself with disappointment every day, so my feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest.

“Chin up, Cherry,” he chides, placing his hand on my lower back.

My spine straightens from his touch.Get your hands off me.

He gives me a push before whispering in my ear, “You wanted to make fast money, so get out there and work.”

After he slides past me, I shake off the filth he left behind and do exactly as he says, because as much as I hate him, he’s right.

I need the money, and I need it now.

“She doesn’t looklike the rest.”

I bite my tongue until I taste blood. My hands grip the pole, and I use my core to swing around, putting my backside to the group of athletes.

There are three types of men that come into the Cat House: the sleazy ones who are married and want to cheat on their wives, the single ones who come alone and have ‘pervert’ writtenall over them, and the ones who are out celebrating something. Whether it be a birthday, bachelor party, or a guys’ night, they’re always tipsy and, most of the time, boisterous.

I catch one of the hockey players, who just so happens to be missing a front tooth, staring directly at my boobs when I twist. He nudges his friend with his elbow andgreat,now they’re both staring at me.

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