Page 8 of Unbreakable

Arizona

Iwasbothfilled with excitement and nervousness at the mere thought of dancing tonight. Exposing myself to a room full of men and the few women who were scattered throughout. The skeevy boss had passed me off to the house mother for the dancers, before heading off to his office. Karen was nice in a grouchy cigar smoking grandmotherly way, meaning she reeked of smoke, had a raspy voice, and was straight to the point. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a tight, high bun and her glasses sat perched on the tip of her nose.

I noticed how she eyed me up and down. I get it a lot. I know I’m slightly thicker than the rest of the bean poles in here walking around in their stripper heels and g-strings, but the difference is I’m comfortable in my skin and know what effect it has on men.

“You are responsible for your own costumes, and keeping them clean. I don't tolerate any drama between my dancers. If you have an issue, work it out between yourselves. We need to know your cycle as well, we don’t fucking need you bleeding all over the stage.” Is she for fucking real?!

She continues on until we enter the back where the dressing room is for the dancers then leads me over to an open mirrored table that has a locker beside it.

“You will have two solo dances on stage tonight and then you will be responsible for securing your own private dances. Prove your worth, and if you become a demanded dancer then you will get more stage time at the prime hours. Any other questions lil’ girl?”

“No, I think I'm smart enough to understand all that. And the name is Arizona, it’s also the name I will go by on stage even though you never asked me what I wanted to be called.” Yeah it may have come off a little snarky but I don’t care, this old ass bitch is starting to piss me off.

“Girlie, listen here, watch your damn lip with me. I can make your time here fucking hell. I can make or break you. So get your fat ass ready, you’re on in thirty minutes, not that it will really matter. The men that come here don’t go for the thick ones. They want a woman who takes care of herself and her body, who doesn’t let it get flabby.” she spits out, while blowing smoke in my face from the cigar that hangs from her lips, before turning and heading out of the room.

Lord, please let me make it through working here and not kill one of these fucking skanks. I get nothing but sneers from the other dancers, taking that as a sign there will be no friendships made here.

I sit down at the makeup vanity she assigned me to and pull out my makeup bag. Thankfully, I had done my hair at home before coming in tonight, deciding to straighten my naturally curly locks.

I was never one to wear a ton of makeup, except when I dance. I decided tonight I was going with the whole school girl theme. Instead of the traditional Britney pigtails associated with the school girl look, I went with straight hair and a hair band. I always strive to be different. I’m wearing the typical plaid skirt and shirt tied in the front right under my boobs with a metallic silver bra and matching g-string.

I have on white platform stripper heels, and I’m praying to God I don’t break my neck walking to the stage. Dancing in them I’m golden, walking in them I’m a flipping train wreck.

I’m so thankful for those pole classes I took when I got to college because those babies are going to pay off tonight.

These fucking whores have been cackling like hyenas since they saw me almost fall, so I decide to fuck with them a bit. I may have let them think I have no clue how to dance on a pole or even at all. None of them were here earlier when I did my little number out front with the manager. Wait ‘til these bitches see me flying around the pole, all eyes will be on me as I pocket money from every single one of those suckers out there.

I make my way to the stage, climbing the stairs to wait just behind the curtain for my introduction. I have to admit walking in stripper heels is becoming easier the more I wear them. I had given the DJ my song choices earlier, for my dances, when I came in and I was ready to go once the beat dropped and my introduction came across the mic.

I can’t help the smirk that crosses my face when the music begins. What can I say? I like to coordinate, so I went with the song that fits my costume choice.

Once I hear the announcer start the introduction, I take a deep breath.

“Coming onto the stage next. It’s the deliciously tantalizing Arizona!”

I exhale the breath before walking out on the stage in a walk that would put any runway model to shame before gripping the pole and doing a carousel spin around it, sliding my way up and moving into a jade split.

I continue working my ass off on the pole, moving into a cross ankle release move before dropping down mere inches above the floor.

I can hear the crowd of men seated around the stage whoopin’ and hollerin’, as money begins to litter the stage. I can’t help the sultry smile on my face, or the way I flash it at the foolish men already giving me their money, and I have yet to remove an item of clothing.

As I return to the floor, I crawl across it to a group of men most likely in their thirties. As I move my body in front of them, I raise up on my knees before sitting back on my haunches, spreading my legs wide, giving them a peek of my covered pussy.

I slowly reach up, untying my top in a seductive move, removing it.

As I look over to my left I see the most gorgeous, distinguished man. He is seated with another guy but I’m oblivious to anyone other than him. I keep my eyes focused on his charcoal gray ones as I move closer, standing up directly in front of him.

With my back to him I lean over, dragging my hands down my thighs before moving them back up, taking hold of my skirt and pulling it off so that I’m now standing in only my g-string and bra.

I perform a series of dance moves making my way back over to the pole, gripping it with my hands and pulling my body up before performing a series of fan kicks, moving into a full moon split and landing in a headstand at the bottom of the pole.

Deciding to throw a little more their way, I do a flip, landing firmly on my feet, not once wavering in balance on the heels, before pulling open my bra, exposing my breasts to the room.

Looking back to the left, I see the handsome man from earlier is no longer there. At that realization I feel a wave of sadness roll over me. I make one final move dropping into a split and bringing my leg behind me to the crown of my head just as the last beat of music hits.

The room erupts in an uproar and while I know I’m a hit with the crowd, I just made an enemy out of the dancers.

I reach down picking up the cash from the floor, then exit off to the right, heading back towards the dressing room.

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