by Robin Roseau
All of them, of course, had amazing bodies. They weren't all the same size. Some were quite broad and others more slender. And they were of varying heights. But they were all quite buff, and I understood why the audience was going wild for them.
They worked the audience, moving up and down the catwalk in what appeared to be organized chaos but that I suspected was carefully choreographed. Then two moved to the end facing in opposite directions, dancing for the crowd, while the rest took a leap, landing gracefully on the main floor and taking their dancing actually into the crowd. I hadn't expected that.
As if it were even possible, the women went even wilder.
The men danced for five or six minutes, working the entire room. Each table received some personalized attention. Evaline and I were treated to a pair of men, one focused on each of us. I got a very good look at some impressive muscles, but Evaline received far more intimate attention. Her guy pulled her chair away from the table, turning it away, then he moved in front of her and set a leg on the seat of her chair. He continued to dance while Evaline shamelessly caressed the inside of his leg. I didn't catch her at it, but I was positive she was grazing his most intimate places with her hand, and she was laughing joyfully while doing it.
I thought she was setting a bad example if she didn't want the other women here fondling the dancers.
Eventually the men made it back to the stage and finished their routine with each of them striking a dramatic pose with the final beat of the song. Around us, many of the women rose to their feet, screaming their approval. The guys stood on the stage, panting heavily and beaming honest smiles.
They held the pose while the audience screamed. Then the music began again, and they began weaving their way to the back of the stage. The curtain parted, and Poppy was waiting. She moved forward as they moved back, but as she arrived at each dancer, she danced briefly with them and was, in all effect, spun from one of the men to the other. She finished at the end of the stage closest to us while the men disappeared behind the curtain. She beamed at us for a moment. The music ended, but the women continued to yell until Poppy held up her hand.
"Is everyone having a good time?"
Yes, they certainly were.
* * * *
Evaline kept me at that table for the entire first set. There were four performances by the men. Then two women danced, one after another. Naomi was the second of them.
She was a truly beautiful dancer, and I found myself on my feet applauding along with the rest of the women in the room.
Then there were two more songs of the men before the set was over.
Poppy interacted with the dancers both coming and going. Sometimes she danced with them. Sometimes she brushed hands across their chests while staring into their eyes. For one of her entrances, the two dancers collected her at the curtain, picked her up by her spread arms, and carried her to her place at the front, setting her gently back on her feet.
I couldn't decide which of the women I found most alluring: Naomi or Poppy.
I didn't add Evaline to the mix. That would have been too dangerous to think about.
But then Poppy came out and announced a break. She reminded everyone to continue to have a good time and promised to be back out soon.
As soon as she disappeared, Evaline leaned to me and said into my ear, "It's time for you to get ready."
I had almost managed to forget why I was there.
We climbed from our seats, and then I followed the demon into the back. She led me downstairs to the dressing room. I could hear male voices from the other direction, and Evaline said simply, "The men's room is that way."
I wondered if we would encounter the other women, but the dressing room was empty. As we stepped into it, my heart began to beat harder, and a lump formed in my throat.
Evaline turned to me. "You enjoyed the show. Admit it."
"They are professionals."
"Admit it, Lacey."
"Fine. I enjoyed the show. But I can't do what any of your dancers can do. This is going to be a farce."
She frowned then glanced at the closed door. When she spoke, her tone was stern. "You will do your best, or I will consider you in default of our agreement. I will claim your soul for whatever period pleases me. I will allow you to verify Rachel's good health and to report that back to your former lover, but then you will become completely mine, more than you can possibly imagine. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," I said. "Crystal clear."
She nodded. "Good. If you want advice, you may ask for it. Come." She led me through the room to a closet door. When she opened the door, I discovered it was a very, very large closet, filled with costumes of all manner.
I blushed from simply envisioning myself wearing some of them.
Evaline gestured for me to remain where I was. She moved further into the closet, and when she returned, she was carrying a set of black heels, a tuxedo jacket similar to the one Poppy had been wearing, and another black top hat. She handed everything to me before turning around for a second trip. When she returned to me she held a pair of elbow-length black silk gloves and a black cane.
I didn't say a word; it could have been far worse.
"Let's go to the makeup counter," she said, gesturing behind me. I looked around and saw the wall of mirrors with seats in front of them. I led the way this time. When we arrived, the demon set her things down on the counter then added my load beside them. "Take the jacket off. Sit."
"I'm not exactly a makeup kind of girl," I muttered.
"Tough," was the reply. She pointed to a chair. As soon as I was seated, she stepped behind me and turned the chair around so was sideways to the mirrors. She stepped in front of me and commanded, "Tip your head back."
I didn't say another word as she expertly and efficiently applied cosmetics to my face. She spent some time on my hair as well. Before she was done, she clasped my chin and turned my face this way and that, studying her work.
"Good," she said, stepping back and putting her supplies away. I turned to face the mirror.
And stared.
Evaline stepped behind me and turned my chair around so I was facing the mirror head on then stood behind me with her hands on my shoulders. In the mirror, I looked up, our gazes meeting for a moment, but then I looked back down at my own image.
I looked good. Damned good. I looked like the sort of woman I liked to pick up.
I didn't say a word, but it was hard not to smile at my own reflection. Even if I didn't look at all like myself.
I wondered if that was part of the point.
"Have you ever worn makeup?"
"Of course," I said. But I gestured at the mirror. "But I wouldn't even know how to do that."
"I have only highlighted your natural beauty," she replied.
I felt like I should thank her, but I didn't. She waited for a moment, wondering if I had more to say. I didn't really know what to say. Instead, I stood up and turned to face her.
"Right," she said. She stepped to the side and collected the jacket. She held it for me, and I slipped into it.
I realized then it wasn't that similar to Poppy's. Oh, it was a black tuxedo jacket, complete with tails, but hers had sleeves. This one did not. My arms were bare. I said nothing.
Next were the gloves. I'd never worn silk gloves, and I'd never worn gloves that were so long. I found myself wanting to brush my face against the silk and actually raised my hand to do so, but I stopped, remembering the makeup.
"They feel nice, don't they?"
"Yes," I admitted.
Then the demon surprised me. She collected the shoes and knelt at my feet. I lifted one foot, and she slipped the shoe into place, buckling the strap. For the second, I had to set a hand on the back of the chair to steady myself.
As heels go, they weren't all that tall, but I never wore heels. Never. And I was supposed to dance in them?
The demon must have read my mine. "You will step onto stage wearing the things I have selected f
or you. But once you are on stage, you are free to take off any clothing you desire."
I nodded understanding.
She straightened and collected the hat. "If you intend to keep this atop your head, we can use pins. If you will take it off or use it as a prop, we'll simply set it into place. Even with pins, if you are sufficiently energetic, it won't stay in place unless you use a hand to steady it. There is no wrong answer."
"I think..." I wasn't sure I was thinking. "Will you pin it for me?"
"Of course. Sit."
I resumed my seat, the demon placed the hat on my head, setting it at a jaunty angle and making minute adjustments before pinning it into place. She used a great number of pins then declared, "All set. You may want to ask for help when you remove it." She smiled. "I do like a woman in a hat."
And with that, I discovered we had something in common. Not that I liked me in a hat, but other women in hats was a turn on for me.
She bade me to stand then handed the cane to me.
"There will be music," I said, not quite a question.
"Yes. I have something picked."
"I want something else."
She smiled but raised an eyebrow. "You haven't heard what I have selected." I told her what song I wanted. She looked me up and down. "All right. Fitting."
"And don't start it right away." She nodded. "And I want a bench out at the end. Or a chair, but a bench is better."
She smiled and nodded again.
"You'll know when to start the music," I said.
* * * *
The demon handed me into Poppy's care. She spoke over the music of the current dancers. "You're up in..." she glanced at a clock on the wall. "Seven and a half minutes." She led me backstage. "You'll wait here, out of sight. As soon as the guys have cleared out of the way, you move here." She pulled me forward. There was a piece of tape on the floor to use as a marker.
Then she took me aside again. "There's one more guy, then you," she said. She looked into my face. "Are you as scared as you look?"
"Yes."
She patted my cheek and smiled warmly. "You'll be fine."
She turned to go, but I reached out and grabbed her arm. "Poppy?" She turned back to face me. I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, but I wasn't ready for her to step away.
She watched me for a moment, waiting, but then said, "I'll come back, all right? Jebediah is almost done."
I nodded, and she stepped away, backing up first before turning around.
I waited in the wings. In the dim light, I watched Poppy step to the mark and strike a pose. The music ended, and I could hear the audience. I realized I'd been hearing them all along, but it hadn't registered with me.
Then the curtain parted, and the spotlight hit Poppy. She stepped out, new music started, and several heartbeats later, Jebediah stepped into view. The curtain closed behind him and he hurried past me, glancing briefly at me. He was dripping sweat but grinning.
His outfit was festooned with money, although in the light, I couldn't see the denominations. As he stepped past me, he was already collecting the money, pulling it from everywhere the women had been tucking it.
"Oh, God," I said.
I heard Poppy announce the next dancer, her amplified voice fighting with the noise the audience was making. I watched with dread as the curtain opened and one of the guys strutted his way onto the stage. A moment later, Poppy appeared. The curtain closed behind her, and she made her way to me.
She was beaming, and she didn't walk to me. She danced up to me. "God, I love it," she said. "The audience is hot tonight."
"Just what I wanted to know," I muttered. She didn't hear me over the music.
She pulled me into place where I would wait then stood beside me. She was tapping her toe to the beat of the driving music.
* * * *
I waited for the curtain to close before moving to the mark. I was sure I was going to be sick. I was absolutely sure.
But I had a moment to think of Beth. If she knew what I was doing for her, for Rachel... If she knew what I was willing to do for her. Even now, three years later, I was doing this for her.
Or at least I thought I was. Could I have negotiated harder with the demon? She was a demon, presumably thousands of years old. How many humans had negotiated with her in the past? How many had done better than I had? And in the scheme of things, this was embarrassment; that's all it was.
I could handle it. Or so I tried to convince myself.
But I listened to Poppy. She took a moment to quiet the crowd down. They didn't want to quiet down, but she knew what she was doing. Finally she began to speak.
"We have a special treat for you tonight. We have a virgin to the Vixen Club." That generated noise amongst the audience, which Poppy let go on for a moment before stilling it. "She's a little nervous. Wait. No. She's quivering in her shoes, she's so nervous. But I know you'll make her feel welcome. And so I present... Lacey!"
I remembered I was supposed to strike a pose. I'd been nervously clutching the cane, but I quickly set the foot of the cane on the floor near my left foot and thrust my left arm out and down, forming a triangle of my body, my arm, and the cane. I set my right wrist against my forehead and tilted my head back slightly.
The curtain opened, presenting me to the crowd. They went wild for me, clapping and cheering. I heard at least one woman yell, "Show us what you've got, Lacey!" Other women yelled other forms of encouragement.
I could have gone without the encouragement. I was sure I was going to disappoint all of them while embarrassing myself with my ineptitude.
I held my pose for a count and then took two steps forward but then set the cane back down, holding my arm out like I had before. I lowered my right hand just as Poppy reached me. She stepped into me, caressed my cheek with one hand while she kissed the opposite cheek. "Break a leg," she said into my ear. And then she brushed past me, and I felt the curtain close behind me.
The audience was still cheering wildly. I looked around, then slowly I lifted my index finger to my lips. Slowly I turned, facing everyone, my finger in place.
The women didn't want to quiet down, but they did, a few holdouts needing encouragement from the others nearby. The room didn't become absolutely silent, but the audience grew quiet.
I lowered my finger and nodded, looking around. My eyes settled on the occupant of the table at the other end of the catwalk. The demon was watching me intently, and I thought I detected a smirk, although the light was dim, and I couldn't be sure.
I walked forward. It wasn't remotely a dance; it was simply a walk. But I made sure the heels clicked against the floor. I swung the cane as I walked.
"Nice legs, Lacey!" someone called.
I stopped, holding my hand to my chest, and turned towards the woman who had yelled. I couldn't tell who it was, but I offered a small bow. But then I lifted my finger to my lips again, holding the pose for a moment, then released it. I continued my walk to the far end of the catwalk.
There was a bench waiting for me. It was exactly what I wanted -- a piano bench. The top was padded with a black leather cushion. I came to a stop before it. Then, slowly, I lifted one foot to the top of the bench, set the cane aside, and removed first one shoe, then the other. I set both shoes under the bench, arranging them carefully, kneeling down while I did it.
The audience was quiet. While you couldn't hear a pin drop, it was the quietest the club had been all night.
Then I walked around the bench, ignoring the audience, ignoring everyone. I made a wide berth to the front, then finally moved behind the bench again. I pulled it towards me four or five inches before slipping around to sit down.
I sat for just a moment, my back straight, my hands in my lap. Then I lifted them and envisioned a piano in front of me. I caressed the wood, using the caresses to give an idea of size. I made a point of lifting the cover over the imaginary keys.
I gestured to encompass the size again, miming playing the piano. But as I did so, I pulled
my legs up a little bit, trying to hide what I was doing, but I swung my feet so the toes could barely touch the floor as if I were a little girl, and the bench was too tall for me. I worked the imaginary keyboard, but this time I had to really stretch, a little girl now.
The crowd remained quiet, all eyes on me.
I mimed playing the piano, my gestures large as I played chopsticks. A few people laughed.
I made bigger motions, attempting to look like I was playing full chords. But then I stopped and slumped over the keyboard.
"Oh, no," someone whispered.
I stayed like that for several more seconds. But then I stiffened and looked over my shoulder. I smiled and straightened up, becoming excited. I nodded then moved to the far left edge of the bench. I put my hands in my lap, looking to my right, smiling.
Then I looked down at Evaline. She was leaning forward on the table now, looking up at me intently. I nodded to her. I don't know how she signaled whoever was running the music, but there was the briefest pause before piano music filled the club.
It was George Winston's "Corrina, Corrina."
I swayed to the music for a moment, but then I hopped off the bench and began dancing around the stage. I didn't dance like an exotic dancer in a nightclub. I danced like a little girl. I don't imagine I was very graceful. It certainly wasn't sexy or titillating, in spite of how I was dressed.
But it wasn't the first time I had danced like this to this particular song. It had been a very long time since the last time, but I still remembered every note.
And so I ignored the women in the room. The lights illuminating the stage were bright, and the rest of the club was dim, so it wasn't that hard to pretend they weren't there.
And so I danced.
But as the song was drawing to a close, I moved towards the bench. And when the final notes played, I wrapped my arms around the imaginary pianist. Then, before the audience could respond, I slipped back onto the bench, a little girl for a moment, but then I pulled my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around my knees, bowing my head.
