Club Deep: The Complete Series

by Wylder, Penny

  When I enter, there’s already a bunch of people milling around and getting ready. One of them is Cosette. “Libby!” She jumps off the bench and tackles me in a hug, all signs of yesterday’s awkwardness gone. In fact, she seems like she’s bouncing off the walls. I struggle to not drop anything. “I’m so excited, are you excited?”

  I laugh. “Yes. Only a really good job lets you go shopping before you actually have to work.”

  “I know, right?” Cosette laughs too, a little too loud and hard. “I saw your locker, it’s over here.”

  She points me down the row, and I see a locker that has a piece of paper attached to it with my name. I pull the paper off and turn it over. On the other side is the lock combination along with a note in neat handwriting.

  I can’t wait to see you dance again.

  There’s no signature, but there doesn’t have to be. I know exactly who wrote it. I put my clothes inside the locker and change into the blue mini-dress while Cosette sits down on the bench by me to do her make up. She’s fidgeting and jumpy while she does her make-up and she hasn’t stopped talking since we came over to the locker, filling me in on our colleagues. “Everyone is super nice. Those girls over there, they go into the orgy room and fool around with each other to make people more comfortable to start having sex. The girls over there in the black pants and bras are the waitresses. She’s a DJ.” Cosette gestures to a gorgeous tall woman who’s putting on some neon eye make-up.

  I sit down next to her, strapping on mile-high back heels and pulling out my make-up bag. “This is all going to take some getting used to.”

  “You can say that again. Working at night’s going to be so different. But, Libby,” she says, “we have jobs dancing. Dancing.”

  A grin spreads across my face. “It’s amazing.”

  Cosette draws liner across her lid in a dramatic cat-eye. She’s dressed in a black catsuit with a plunging neckline. She takes in my outfit. “What look are you going for tonight?”

  I start to dab some orange color across my eyelids. “Mod disco.”

  She laughs. “Sounds perfect.” Again, her laugh is loud.

  She looks at me, and I startle, because her pupils are huge. Dread sinks in my stomach. I grab her hand before she can do her other eye. “Cosette,” I whisper, “Are you high?”

  “As a kite, baby! Nothing feels like this. They have really good shit here.”

  My mouth drops open a little, “I don’t understand.” It’s been a long time since Cosette has done any drugs, but it’s never a good sign. Whenever she gets high is a time I have to worry, because high Cosette doesn’t make smart choices. And I can’t lose her. I don’t think I’d survive it if something happened to her. Plus, it’s our first day? “Why today?”

  She rolls here eyes. “Lighten up, Libby.” She elongates my name, drawing it out. “I’m just having a little fun. That’s what this job is right? Fun?”

  “Cosette—”

  “You’re too much of a goody-two-shoes, Lib. You need to relax.”

  “I’m just concerned.”

  “Yeah, well don’t be. I can take care of myself.” She snatches her make-up kit off the bench and goes back to her own locker. Shit. Did something happen? I always find out later why Cosette gets high or drunk and wish I could have seen it coming. This is the same. I have no idea what set her off, and I honestly don’t have time to worry about it, but I know that I will all night. Hopefully later, when she’s sober, I can ask her again.

  My make-up is almost done when Randall strides into the dressing room. I do a double-take. Is he supposed to just come in here like that? When people could be getting dressed? I glance around, and I see that everyone is decent. But still, it seems weird. “New dancers, with me.”

  I shove my make-up bag in my locker and close it quickly before following him, Cosette, and two other girls out into the club. The fluorescent lights are gone and replaced with the dramatic, flashing colors from the night before. The club is still pretty empty, but there are a few guests arriving. No one is dancing yet, even though the DJ has already taken her place and the music has started to pound.

  Randall stops by one of the cages that’s on the floor by the edge of the dance floor. “Okay, so the main thing I need to tell you guys about is our tipping system.” He points to a screen that’s attached to the top of the cage, easily visible. It says the number of the cage. “We’ve got an app, and if somebody likes what you’re doing in the cage, they can tip you. Anything above $50, your cage gets spotlights, and the bars glow. I’m sure you’ll see soon enough. Rack up enough tips, and you’ll get confetti from the ceiling. Don’t hold your breath on that though, it takes a lot to get there and even with our high rollers, it rarely happens. Any questions.”

  I don’t have any, it seems pretty straightforward.

  “Good. You’ll have a break half-way through your shift. I’ll send a waitress to tell you when.” He points to one of the other new girls. “In you go.” He helps her into the cage. The other stranger goes into another cage on the floor. Some of the cages are already taken with girls dancing. It makes sense. You need the mood to be in place when the customers come in. But for Cosette and me, he doesn’t give us a cage on the floor. Instead he walks us to the middle of the dance floor where several cages hang above just above the heads of the crowd. If someone jumped they might be able to touch the bottom. A couple of them are already taken, but Randall has a remote in his hand, and two of them lower to the floor. He gives a mocking bow to us. “Your chariots, girls.”

  I look at Cosette and grin, pretending that I’ve forgotten our exchange in the locker room. “Ready to make some money?”

  “You know it.” She gives me a high five before climbing into her cage.

  Our screens are at the bottom of the cage. I can see Cosette’s, and she can see mine, and I notice there’s a tiny screen inside the cage that lets us know how much the current tip is, plus our total. My stomach lurches a little as the cage is lifted off the floor. I’ve never danced in anything suspended like this. It’s going to take me some time to get used to the way it swings with my movements, to trust that it’s not going to fall and that I’ll be able to dance without being afraid. I look over and I see the same look on my friend’s face: nervous anticipation. The cages lock into place, and for a second, I stand there. I’m really doing this. I’m dancing in a cage. At a sex club. What the hell am I doing?

  Randall’s voice floats up from below. “Well? Get going. We’re paying you to dance, not to stand still.”

  Sharing a look with Cosette, I shrug. It’s way too late for me to turn back now. So, closing my eyes, I start to dance.

  Five

  I am so happy I took this job. My feet hurt like hell and I’m sweating like a pig, but I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. The dress I’m wearing does exactly what I hoped it would with the lights, and I know it’s getting people’s attention. Cosette’s cage is close enough that we can see each other, use each other for inspiration. It’s been a few hours, and the club is packed.

  Maybe an hour ago I got my first big tip, my cage lighting up like a firework, and some of the club’s lights spinning to focus on me. It was only a minute or so, but that minute when every eye was on me, it was the biggest adrenaline boost in the world. Cosette and I have both been tipped since then, each spotlight session has us upping our game, trying to out-dance the other and the crowd fucking loves it.

  We both have the biggest smiles on our faces, and I think that the people watching can tell that we’re having a good time. Even though I know she’s high, she seems okay right now—like the dancing is settling her. It lets me relax. The song changes from a frenzied speed to a slower electric song, and I like the way it makes me dance. Suddenly my moves are smoother, slower, more deliberate. White light hits my cage as the spots turn on me, and I launch into a solo, grabbing the cage and using the cage to spin it with me. I dip myself backwards, and forwards again, rolling my body in time with the music. A
nd just as suddenly the lights turn off and there’s blue eyes instead.

  Julian is standing on the balcony of the second floor, watching me with a smile on his face. That smile both warms me up and makes me shiver. My dancing changes again, because it’s not for the crowd anymore, it’s for him. I hold onto the top of the cage, swinging my hips and letting my short dress ride even further up my legs. He’s leaning against the railing, and I see one of his hands wander down as he watches me. I can’t quite tell because of the shadows, but it looks like he’s stroking himself through his pants.

  Heat, fierce and real bursts through me. I love that I can make a man like Julian touch himself in public with my body, and suddenly I want to do it more. I use the cage like I’ve been hesitant to do up until now, hanging from the bars, and twirling, pushing my ass against the cage where he can see it. I let the straps of my dress fall off my shoulder and I pull up my dress and give him a glimpse of my panties.

  The lights flash on my cage and I grin, dropping it low and bringing it back up again. The lights on the cage change—a tip on top of a tip. Now the lights are deep blue, matching my dress, and I feel like a star glimmering in my cage, ironically feeling totally free. I look at Julian and see him watching me with that same hunger that I saw when he was watching me at the audition. Only now that I know what that hunger leads to, I want more of it. I lose track of my movements, only dancing for him. The lights change again to bright green, the spots still focused on me, and I grab the bars of the cage facing Julian, pulling up my dress so I’m exposed and thrusting against the bars of the cage. I’m touching my breasts, letting my hands wander down my legs, grazing the edge of my panties. I don’t want there to be any question about what I want.

  His mouth tips up into a smirk, and then he looks away, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. I hope he doesn’t take a picture of me like this, because the last thing I need is my mother seeing me humping a cage in a mini-dress on Facebook. But a moment later he puts his phone away and grins, holding his finger up like he’s telling me to wait. Just then, the music soars, club plunging into darkness as backlights flash on, neon graffiti pouring from the ceiling as the crowd roars. The only regular lights in the club are on me, and I have no choice but to dance, so I do. I give the crowd what they want, the sexy show they’ve been waiting for, and I’ve never felt so sexy, so powerful.

  The regular club lights return and I look at my screen. That tip was for one thousand dollars. Seriously? What the fuck. My jaw drops, and I look at the balcony, at Julian—because it had to be him—but he’s gone. I look over at Cosette, to smile at her, and to share in the awesomeness. But she’s stock still in her cage, staring at me with what can only be horror. I thought she’d be happy for me, but she doesn’t look it. I notice I’ve stopped dancing and start to move again, only to hear a little ping coming from my screen.

  Come to my office on your break. —J

  Almost like he planned it, my cage starts to lower. People cheer as I come out of it, and my replacement climbs into the cage, lifted back into the air. I turn to the waitress who made the switch and ask her where Julian’s office is, and she gives me directions. His office is on the third floor of the building. Just like last night, the hallways I walk through to get to Julian’s office are quiet. I can hear the club music faintly pulsing through the walls, but it’s an afterthought. This behind-the-scenes area seems a lot nicer than the others I’ve seen. Almost plush. And when I find Julian’s office, it’s the same.

  Clean white walls and a thick, soft, white carpet give the space a bright feeling even though it’s the middle of the night. There’s a big window with a nice view of Phoenix, and the night is one of those perfect Southwestern nights. All the stars are clear on the deep blue sky. Julian stands looking out the window, his back to me. I’m still a little out of breath from all my dancing, and I’m suddenly self-conscious about how I look, sweaty from dancing, dress practically falling off.

  “Hi,” I say. Julian turns to me, that same feral hunger on his face. “Thank you for that tip. That was amazing, even though you didn’t have to do that.”

  He steps towards me, coming around the desk, still not saying anything.

  “I’m really happy I took the job,” I say, trying to fill the silence. “I’m having a good time.”

  Julian loosens the tie that he’s wearing and tosses it to the floor, then he rolls his sleeves up on at a time. Anxious anticipation flutters in my stomach as I watch him. He never takes his eyes off me, and when he’s finished with his sleeves, he starts to undo his belt. He nods towards the desk. “Bend over it.”

  Nothing but command is in his voice, and just like that, I’m wet. Standing there in a button down and slacks, staring at me with that power. I know that I can walk away, but I don’t want to. Because this is so damn hot, and Julian is so damn hot that I want it all. I want to bend over that desk and let him fuck me as hard as he wants. I keep my eyes on him as I walk to the desk, and lean over it. I don’t have to wait for him to tell me to pull my dress up over my ass.

  His hands are on me then, stroking down my back to my ass, pulling my panties down. He leans over me, pressing his body to mine, and I can feel his cock pressed against my ass. He kisses my neck, and I feel his tongue as he licks me, tasting the salt on my skin. “Did you think about this while you were dancing?” he asks, hands still roaming my body, teasing my breasts and teasing around but never touching my clit. “Did you imagine that I was touching you while you were touching yourself in front of everyone?”

  “Yes.” My voice doesn’t shake. I’ve never been so sure of anything.

  Julian chuckles in my ear. “I think you might be an exhibitionist. I saw the way you liked being watched, how you kept getting more turned on.”

  Everything in my body tightens at his words. It’s not true, it can’t be true. “No,” I say. “It was you. I was dancing for you. Thinking about you. Wanting you to see me.”

  His hands still on my body, and I think that I’ve said something wrong. But Julian groans, his voice suddenly hot at my ear. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot that is?” He pulls back and I hear the tearing of a condom wrapper right before I feel his cock at my entrance. He doesn’t wait, pushing into me, and I moan. It’s only been a day and I’ve already forgotten how big he is. Just pushing in, he touches every part of me and it feels to fucking good. It feels like an eternity of him sliding into me, until I feel him against my ass, resting all the way inside me.

  Julian’s hands stroke across my skin, digging into my ass. “I love the way this looks,” he says. “You taking all of me.”

  “Fuck. Yes.” I grab at the edge of the desk, holding on as he pulls out, and slams all the way back in. Again, and again.

  Fire streaks across my skin and a brief flash of pain as he spanks me. “You’re messing with my head, little dancer.” His voice is a rough growl. He thrusts into me again and spanks me again. “Watching you dance turns me on, makes me so hard I can’t do anything but fuck you.”

  I’ve lost the ability to speak, the blend of feeling, pain and pleasure fizzing in my brain. “But,” he says, punctuating the word with another spank, “I want you all to myself too. I want to keep you here so no one can see you but me. So you’re all mine. And I don’t know which one I want more.”

  My arousal soars at the possession in his words, and I shove my hips back instinctively, trying to take more of him. “Guess you’ll just have to keep doing both,” I say, breathless.

  His chuckle is dark. “I guess so.”

  Julian grabs my hands, pulling them behind my back and crossing my wrists so he can hold them both at once. I feel a rush of wetness at the ease of it all, how quickly he takes control. He spanks me again, harder this time as he starts to truly fuck me. Ripples of pleasure wash over me, and my nipples harden against the desk. Pleasure and pain. My ass is burning now, but he doesn’t stop spanking me. “Such a naughty dancer, teasing me from her cage.”

  He plunge
s deeper, and suddenly I feel my orgasm dawning, rising quickly. “Oh god, Julian,” I say it, practically scream it. “Please.”

  “More.”

  “Fuck me. Make me come, make me scream, please.”

  Julian releases my wrists, grabbing my hips and slamming into me. The slap of our skin together turns me on even further, and I’m moaning now because I can’t help it. The way he’s filling me up is breaking me open, unleashing pleasure that I’ve never felt before. I’m trembling with it, vibrating, exploding. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes…

  He strokes deep every time, pushing into me at the same time he’s pulling me toward him, fucking as hard as he can. My breath is coming in gasps, and I’m so close, so close, so close. Julian reaches down and around, fingers stroking my clit, and he whispers to me, “Come for me, little dancer.”

  And damn it, I do. My orgasm breaks over me like the most perfect wave, delicious pleasure washing through me as he continues to thrust into me, drawing out my climax as he finds his own. My pussy spasms around his cock, trying to keep him close. Julian almost collapses on top of me, his body pressing me into the desk. His mouth is at my neck, breath heavy as mine. “What are you doing to me?”

  I laugh, “Whatever it is, it’s not just you.”

  He lifts himself off of me, cleaning up, and I pull my underwear back on and fix my dress. I feel empty without him inside me, and I’m tempted to suggest a second round, even though I know I’m due back to the dance floor any minute. Julian comes over to me, framing my face with his hands. “I like you, Libby Valentina.”