by Kim Jones
Chapter 21
Dallas
The strip-club was packed with women of every age and size, but it was us who were the belles of the ball. Our entrance couldn’t have been grander if we had been surrounded by white doves in our sequined dresses, which covered every color of the rainbow and then some. The place was huge, with a stage that covered most of the floor, and had at least ten poles scattered across it. In the center, one pole reached all the way to the second story, where private dances were held. Neon lights illuminated us, as they blinked in time with the strobe lights that hung from the ceilings. A long bar lined with stools sat against the side wall, with mirrors that ran the length of the wall behind endless bottles of premium liquor. Men who resembled Chippendale dancers wore black slacks, suspenders, and a black bow tie; each of them muscular, tanned and extremely good-looking. Their chests were broad, and their abs rippled down their stomachs. Red got a tray of shots delivered to our table; the girls had gone all out for me and had reserved us a section in the area that was reserved for VIP members only, which consisted of a half-circle booth that wrapped around a table at the front, stage-center. Music blared from the speakers, as we gathered around the booth with me in the middle. Everyone grabbed a shot and it was thrown back in honor of my birthday. Within seconds of our empty glasses hitting the table, they were filled once again by a good-looking Italian man named Greg. Greg informed us that he would be taking care of us all night, and that whatever we wanted would be provided to us upon request. This prompted Brooklyn to run her fingers down his chest and grab his crotch, leaving him smiling and promising her that his cock was available too. He then informed us that if we would like to dance, all we had to do was sign up and they would usher us backstage, where we had full access to the dressing room and the outfits that it contained. I quickly busied myself to avoid his stare. I knew he was addressing me and assuming I would be the one dancing. Red saved me by assuring him we would not be participating, but that we appreciated the offer. We ordered drinks and sat back to relax before the show, which was due to start in about thirty minutes. By the time the first dancer took the stage, we were all feeling the buzz as a result of several shots, and strong, mixed drinks.
“She should have stayed her fuckin’ ass at home,” Punkin said, referring to the woman on stage, whose feeble attempt at dancing had us all laughing.
“Punkin!” I admonished, feeling sorry for the poor woman, although my laughter continued as she busted her ass trying to look sexy in platform heels that stood six inches high. “That’s why they call it amateur night. There aren’t any professionals here.”
“There is one,” Punkin said, pointing at Red with her long fingernail. I rolled my eyes at her comment. Red might be good dancer, but I doubted she was a professional stripper. “Well, I ain’t doing it, anyway. I told Red I’d hold the camera.”
“I’m with you,” I agreed, lifting my glass in the air for Greg to refill it.
“What you want to hold the camera too?” she asked, her mouth twisted in annoyance. I guess Punkin didn’t want to share her chance at being a photographer. I laughed, as she chewed the side of her mouth, trying to calm her frustration. She had been incarcerated for too long.
“No, Punkin. I meant I ain’t dancing either.” I patted her leg, giving her a huge smile of reassurance. This seemed to pacify her, and she gave me a small, apologetic smile. We all clapped as the lady left the stage, shouting words of encouragement at her as the next dancer came out, stopping to give her a hug. The chorus of “Shots” by LMFAO rang through the speakers, and Greg presented himself at our table holding another round of shots and performing a dance on Brooklyn’s lap, as we all danced in our seats with our hands in the air. Katina took the tray of shots from Greg as he lay on the table and spread his legs, placing one shot glass at a time between them on the table. Brooklyn all but pushed us out of her way to straddle him and reach between his thighs to retrieve her shot with her hands behind her back. She stood there a minute, dancing over him with her dress hiked up her thighs, as she wiggled her ass in his face. We all took turns, except for Katelyn, who stood beside us cheering us on with a glass of water in her hands. Chi Chi, Mary, and I formed a train over him, as we danced and pushed our faces between his legs one at a time, downing the shot that seemed to burn a lot less due to the numbing sensation I was experiencing from all of my previous drinks. Red and Maddie faced one another, as they sat on top of him and placed their shots in each other’s cleavage. Punkin stood and grabbed a shot from the tray Katina still held and threw it back, before returning to her seat, not at all worried about the half-naked man that lay before us. When he got up from the table, he grabbed the tray from Katina, taking the last shot and holding it in his hand, before discarding the tray by throwing it to the floor. We watched and cheered in amazement as he bent Katina over the table and jerked his hips against her ass in rhythm with the music. He kept his hand on her back as he made his way around the table to stand in front of her, putting his crotch in her face. He proceeded to stick the shot in the waistband of his pants, and we all screamed our approval as Katina took the shot, making sure to run her tongue from his navel to the glass before taking it in her mouth, and throwing her head back in a seductive manner. When the song stopped and Greg left, we collapsed back in our seats, laughing, as we all fought to give the best re-enactment of Katina’s sexy pose.
“Oooh ooh!” Red said, jumping up and down in her seat to get all of our attention. “Dallas you’re up in fifteen. Let’s go get you ready.” I paled at her comment, looking around to see everyone grinning at me. “Come on!” Red urged. I laughed in her face as I shook my head and sat back.
“Red I ain’t gonna do that shit,” I said, watching Mary laugh hard at my response, her small body falling over in Chi Chi’s lap. She was piss drunk, but, hell, which one of us wasn’t.
“Dallas!” Red whined, her attempt to pout only making me laugh harder.
“Hell no. I can’t do that,” I said, gesturing with my hand to the poles on the stage.
“You don’t have to use the pole, just dance.” There was no way I was getting up there. I shook my head, draining my glass and lifting it in the air, as I swayed without intending to, and hiccupped.
“You pussy. I should have known you would be too scared,” Red said, daring me to prove her wrong.
“I’m not a pussy, Re-ed,” I said, rolling my head and sucking my teeth, while I snapped my fingers in her face with my free hand. I slammed down my glass and stood, wobbling slightly, but was assisted when a strong hand grabbed my arm to steady me. I turned to see Chris standing there, his eyes laughing, although he didn’t utter a word. Had he been there the whole time? “What do you think Chris?” I asked, turning on my heels and facing him. “Do you think I’m a pussy?” he fought to contain his laugh, but there was no chance of him hiding his smile.
“I’m just here,” he offered, taking the easy way out. But I wouldn’t let him.
“Come on, Chris,” I said, playfully punching his arm and nearly falling on my face as I did. “What ya think?”
“I think you’re drunk,” he said, his arms clasped in front of him. He leaned in as if to tell me a secret, but everyone at the table heard what he said. “And a pussy.”
“Red, I don’t think I can do this,” I said, my stage-fright so bad that I thought I might vomit. We were backstage, and I was dressed in a ridiculous plastic outfit with a teeny, nude bikini underneath. The idea was for me to strip down to the bikini and give the appearance that I was naked, but my privates would be covered. Or at least that was the plan. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” I said, taking deep breaths trying to remain calm.
“I didn’t. I believe it was you who dragged me back here. And for what? To prove to a PROSPECT that you weren’t a pussy? You’re pathetic. And very hot in that nurses’ outfit. Here, drink this.” She shoved a glass in my hand, and clinked it with hers. I downed the shot, which was so strong it nearly took my b
reath away.
“What the fuck is that?” I asked, wiping the remnants from my lips.
“That is liquid encouragement. Here, take one more.” I looked at her as if she was crazy. “Oh stop, you’ve had fifteen fruity shots that can hardly be considered hard liquor, and five mixed drinks. If you were really drunk, you wouldn’t be freaking out right now. Take the shot.” She pushed it into my hand and I downed it, knowing that I would probably need ten more just to get through the next ninety seconds.
“Arrgghh!” I said through my teeth, as the liquor scorched my throat and burned the inside of my stomach.
“Okay, you’re up. Just work the pole in front of our table. Remember, it’s your birthday, have fun!” Red blew me a kiss and I caught it, slapping it against my ass cheek, as I peeked through the curtains at the audience. The alcohol was already taking effect as I felt my body loosen and my mind relax. When the announcer called my name, I stepped through the curtain and hit the stage, full of confidence. My girls stood front and center with fistfuls of one-dollar bills, screaming my name while Chris stood behind them, looking very pleased with himself. Asshole. When Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” filled the room, I transformed from the nervous girl who had stood backstage to the baddest bitch in the room, or so I thought. I got lost in the moment, as I used the pole to grind against, forgetting to strip through the first half of the song, until I looked to my sisters to see them making motions that signaled I should rip my shirt off. I grabbed the center of my shirt, which was held together by Velcro instead of buttons, and positioned my fingers to pull it apart in an attempt to look very sexy, during the climax of the song. But the damned thing was stronger than I thought. My dance went to shit after that, and when the song ended, there was not a one-dollar bill on the stage. Even my sisters refused to tip me. I walked backstage fully clothed, and had to have Red help me with my pathetic outfit.
“I was terrible!” I laughed, as Red quickly removed my outfit with no problems.
“No you weren’t,” she said, helping me back into my dress.
“Yeah you was,” a voice said with a snicker. She had tried to conceal it, but I knew by the way she reacted to our gaze that she had intended for us to hear.
“Hey, bitch. Why don’t you keep your comments to yourself,” Red snapped, her temper flaring as a result of too much alcohol, and her possessiveness over me.
“Bitch, I can say what I want to. I run this motherfucker.” The girl was tall, her legs going on for days. Her skirt was so short I could see the cheeks of her ass, and her miniscule tube-top was just a thin piece of material that was just wide enough to cover her areolas.
“Ohhh, okay,” Red said, turning to me, feigning interest. Like she actually gave a shit who this girl was. “So you’re Lonnie. Now I see it. You do look a little butch. I’m pretty sure that’s a penis between your thighs.” This time, I did snicker.
“Bitch, what you laughing at?” she snapped. I guess she thought she could pick on the little one. Wrong.
“I will beat your ass with her,” I said, my voice slightly slurred, as I jutted my thumb at Red.
“Really, Dallas? That’s all you got?” Red asked, forgetting our confrontation for the moment to scold me on my pathetic comeback.
“Yeah,” I said, with a defeated sigh. “I’m pretty drunk.”
“You can’t dance and you can’t talk shit,” the skank who supposedly “ran shit” said, counting off each of my shortcomings on her fingers.
“Look chick,” Red started, as I stood next to her with my arms crossed, nodding my head to stress the importance of her words. “We’re here to have a good time. It’s her birthday and she danced for fun, not for tips. So, I would really, really appreciate it if you would just, shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Go Red, go Red, go Red. I chanted in my head, as Red pulled us away from the woman before she could respond. We made it to the table just in time to see top cunt take the stage. Red fought hard to control her anger, but I could tell the girl had gotten under her skin. I made a point of ignoring the girl and engaging in conversation with everyone, including Red. It seemed to be working until the bitch on stage walked in front of our table and threw a wad of ones at me.
“Here, ho. Bye ya’self some lessons.”
“Oh hell, naw!” Brooklyn said, standing and walking to the stage. “Bitch, we’ll fucking kill you!”
“Yep. That’s possible,” I added, standing and nodding in agreement with Brooklyn’s threat. “We do not fuck around. Nope. Not us.” I wobbled on my heels, trying to look intimidating, but in my inebriated state, I was more comical than threatening.
“Well why don’t we take it to the stage?” the girl asked, now through a microphone. Who the fuck had given her a microphone? I looked around, to find Chris on the phone. I was sure he was calling for back-up.
“Pussyyyy!” I whispered, loud enough for him to hear. He responded by giving me the finger, and I clutched my chest to feign a broken heart, which earned me a smirk. The crowd had grown louder, and I turned to see everyone cheering in favor of a dance off. I cheered too, throwing my fist in the air and screaming with the rest of the fools in the building.
“Would you sit down,” Mary said, with a laugh, as she pulled my arm to bring me back to my seat.
“You fuckin’ up, girl. That’s all I’m sayin’,” Punkin yelled to the woman on stage.
“Yeah? Well what you gonna do about it combat boots?” the girl shouted into the microphone, earning her a round of ooohs from everyone in the club, including myself. Katina shot me a warning with her eyes and I shut up, grabbing another drink off of a waiter’s tray. When he started to protest, I informed him I was VI-mothafuckin’-P. He walked off with a shake of his head. I guess I told him.
“That’s it!”Maddie yelled, standing on our table and hushing the crowd with just her voice. “Red, get on the stage,” she commanded, without making eye contact with her.
“Maddie!” Red snapped, in a hushed voice.
“What? You’re our only shot!” Maddie replied, stepping down from the table as we all leaned in, while Maddie gave Red a pep talk. “Do you really want us to look like fools?”
“No.” Red said, her voice defeated. The amount of liquor we had consumed was absurd, impairing our judgment, and making all of us act completely out of our norm.
“Where is that fiery red-head we all love?” Katina asked, ignoring the impatient crowd as they all stood fist-pumping the air, and chanting.
“Red, baby,” Brooklyn said, handing Red a shot and putting her arm around her shoulders. I waited for Brooklyn to give Red the reassuring speech I knew she needed as Red eyed her thankfully, assuming Brooklyn understood why she chose not to dance. “Get your fucking ass on that stage.” Well, so much for reassurance and understanding. I was so ‘Team Brooklyn’ as I nodded, agreeing with her demand.
“If you don’t, I’m gonna stomp that bitch to death with my boots,” Punkin added, propping her foot on the table and revealing her black boots, which were laced up her ankles.
“Red, Red, Red, Red,” Mary began to chant, and soon the entire bar was calling Red out.
“I fucking hate y’all.” We cheered, as Red downed the shot Brooklyn handed her and made her way backstage. I clambered up on the table in front of our booth, using Brooklyn’s shoulder to hold me up. Once I was up there and steady, she and Maddie joined me, while Katelyn, Katina, Mary, Punkin, and Chi Chi stood on the booth behind us.
“Look behind you,” Maddie said, signaling toward the door with her head. I turned to see the Devil’s Renegades standing at the door, looking intimidating as hell with their arms crossed and faces serious. I frowned when I looked at Luke, hoping he wasn’t mad at me for being so drunk. I mean, it was my birthday after all. When his eyes found mine, he gave me a wink and a smile, and as I lifted my arms to give him a little dance and show off my dress, I lost my balance and nearly fell off the table, taking Brooklyn with me. It took every ol’ lady in our group to steady us back in p
osition, and when I looked up again, all of the men were fighting hard not to laugh. All but Regg, who stood directly behind us looking nervous as hell. I was not the only one looking at the hot bikers lining the back wall. Every horny woman in there gaped at them with open mouths. There wasn’t a dry pair of panties in the house, and my sisters and I held smug smiles because we knew that it was us they would be going home with. Everyone cheered as Gabby, or so the announcer called her, took the stage wearing a black, leather vest and shorts. I booed her, alongside my sisters, before the music even started. When Nelly’s “Hot in Here” blasted through the speakers, I couldn’t help but dance to the music. Maddie grabbed my arm, and shook her head at me and I stopped, frowning as I watched Gabby work the stage like a pro. Everyone cheered, as she stripped down to her nude underwear and swung around the pole, smiling as if she knew she had already won. She never made it all the way up the pole, but made pretty good work of the part she used. Plus, that was a long way up there. It must just be for decoration. The strobe lights flashed around the room as everybody moved in tune with the music, while Gabby entertained the shit out of them. When the song concluded, ones were thrown on the stage and she sashayed off with her hips in full swing. I looked to Brooklyn, my lips pressed in a thin line.
