“You’re welcome, Rex. I’m glad you appreciate my fine work. Hey, why don’t you come in tonight for a little action? Celebrate a little? I can’t wait to see what that bitch looks like naked.”
“Can’t tonight. Be careful with her. I really don’t care how much fun you have. She’s nothing but undead trash. Give her some iron tablets. I’m only interested in her blood.”
Normie put his feet on the floor and leaned forward. “I’m interested in giving her my iron cock.”
“You wish, little man. Later.”
The phone went dead in Normie’s hand. Asshole.
*
Normie waited by the van door and met Lisa when she stepped out. “Miss Goudard. Lisa, Lisa, Lisa. Here, have a drink courtesy of your new employer, The Dancing Bare.”
Lisa rubbed the pink bandage on the inside of her elbow. “I don’t like to give blood. I have small veins. They drained so much blood out of me I felt my heart lose suction.”
“Ha ha! You’re such a kidder. You’ll fit right in with the rest of us.”
She eyed the drink Normie pushed at her. “They told me not to drink any alcohol.”
“It’s orange juice.”
“Just juice?”
“Well, it might have a splash or two of vodka. Go ahead, drink up.”
Lisa took the drink from his hand, stirred the ice around with a straw, and took a sip. “Say, this is good. Fresh, with a hint of mint.”
“Ice Queen Vodka is the best. Nothing’s too good for my girls. Permit me to escort you inside, and we’ll get down to business.”
*
Rick Poundstone couldn’t stop thinking about Lisa Goudard since he listened to his messages on his cell phone. He had tried returning her call but ended up being switched to voicemail.
Something about the message she left haunted him. I’m in a bad way . . . I’m not sure what to do. She stopped speaking, but the recording continued for another fifteen seconds. The rest of the message was nothing but road noise, as if she were standing next to a highway with cars zooming by.
Hearing her voice brought back those same feelings of compassion he had felt at the therapist’s office. Something made him want to take her in his arms and kiss her all over and promise her he would make all of her sadness go away. Strangely, he felt such empathy, and he hardly even knew anything about her.
Rick had seen a strong, determined woman that morning in church. She didn’t back down and made her case, reminding him of a modern-day Susan B. Anthony. And the good church members responded to her plight by dragging her outside to the curb as though she were garbage. He had wanted to reach out to her then, but instead made excuses to himself not to. Thinking he would make the effort after the election.
Rick dialed his office.
His secretary answered, “Poundstone Campaign, how may I direct your call?”
“Sandra, Rick. Do me a favor, get me the address for a Miss Lisa Goudard, G-o-u-d-a-r-d. Call me when you have it. Thanks.”
His schedule was filled with important meetings and pending legislation that needed attention. Yet nothing mattered more to him right then than finding out why Lisa had made the call.
*
“First of all, Lisa, this is a business. Dancing has nothing to do with morality. It is a legal business, and I pride myself on working inside the boundaries of the law. Fortunately, for us in Devil’s Bone, those boundaries are pretty darn wide. Our relationship will be strictly business too, as are all of my relationships with the girls,” Normie said as Lisa slurped the last of her drink. “You need another?”
“I shouldn’t, but that was really good.” Lisa licked the last fugitive drops from the end of her straw. “It’s calmed me down a lot too. You don’t know how nervous I was when I got here.” She stopped, her gaze drifting to the table. “I wasn’t only nervous. I feel like I have no dignity left.” She put her hand to her forehead and held back tears. “Look at me, I’m in a strip club about to whore myself out to the first degenerate who can toss up a dollar to see my tits.”
“Liiiiisa, stop. You got it all wrong. You have to think of stripping like it’s just a big game. A game women and men both play. You’re under the illusion it’s the guys who exploit the girls. That’s not true at all.”
She turned her gaze back to Normie, blowing her nose into a cocktail napkin.
“The girls here exploit the guys. Think about it a minute. The guys are here for a couple of reasons. To get drunk, sure, but mainly to see the girls. They throw money at them, buy them twenty dollar specialty drinks—one hundred dollar bottles of cheap champagne, and guess what?”
“What?”
“The guys aren’t allowed to touch the girls. My girls don’t whore themselves out. They’re professionals plying their profession. Sure, the girls have to dance, and take off their clothes. But stripping is an art. And some of my girls are real athletes on the pole.
“Not only that, but believe it or not, it’s places like this that keep marriages together.”
“Normie, don’t bullshit me.”
“It’s true.” Normie pointed to a table near the stage. “See that guy over there? Comes in here all the time to get some of the things gone missing from his marriage. His name’s Hoyt, got a wife that busts his chops all the time. He’s real nice to the girls and has enough fun here that it makes living with her bearable. She’s lucky he has a place to blow off some steam.
“The problem, as I see it, is you don’t have the proper perspective because of your misconceptions about what strippers do.” Normie leaned closer as he spoke. Show time was about to begin, and the tables around him were filling fast.
“Tell you what. I’m going to order another round of drinks and give you a little Strip Club one-o-one.” Normie waved at a passing waitress and held up two fingers.
*
Pavilion Townplace offered a scenic drive with ornamental stones and seasonal flowers in the median. Tall oaks framed the sides of the road. Rick had canceled his last appointment of the afternoon in order to spend the time searching for Lisa. He tried calling her a few more times, but each call went straight to voicemail. The gnawing feeling that something was wrong had him on edge. He needed to solve this mystery as quickly as possible before it consumed his every waking thought.
The gate to the apartments would only open with the proper card ID, or a resident there would have to ring him in from a registered phone number. That’s just great, Rick thought. I’m this close, and I can’t get in.
A car pulled up to the other side of the gate and stopped. The sensor energized the gate triggering it to slowly retract horizontally, opening a space large enough for the car to drive through.
Rick waited for the car to pass, and then hit the accelerator—speeding through the entrance before the gate closed again. He made it through with little room to spare.
A team of Non-Dead collecting garbage paid him no mind. Rick slowly drove through the parking lot in search of unit 248, and decided to park at the first available spot and explore the rest of the way on foot.
Once outside, he surveyed the area. In the background, the drone of a leaf-blower mixed with a mockingbird barking at a cat. He was one section over from the cluster of units 240-250, and walked over to 248, without seeing another Living soul.
The wall-mounted mailbox by her door was open, containing a handful of letters from the previous day. Nothing too unusual about that. Still, something didn’t feel right.
Rick softly knocked on the door and listened for sounds from inside the apartment. Nothing. He knocked harder, and called, “Miss Goudard? Rick Poundstone. I’d like to speak to you for a minute.” Several minutes of knocking brought no rewards. Rick found himself back to square one.
When he peered down at his watch, he saw a wadded piece of paper on the ground. He picked it up and smoothed it out. It was nothing more than a torn sheet from a Yellow Cab memo pad, both sides blank.
Was this a clue or random trash blown in from the parkin
g lot?
Rick opened his cell phone, and scrolled through his contacts, until he found the number for Police Chief Ronald Collins. It was time to call in a favor.
*
The lights dimmed, leaving behind unusual glows of green, blue, and red. The empty stage wrapped in warm mystery.
The DJ’s voice boomed over the conversation and clink of glasses. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to The Dancing Bare. For your entertainment tonight, we have fourteen gorgeous girls waiting to raise your disco pole. Remember to tip the waitresses and the dancers well, and they will treat you well. If you know what I’m say-ing!
“Our first dancer tonight is a little honey from Tupelo, Mississippi. Give it up for, Giiiiina!”
A fast strumming guitar replaced the DJ, and then the pulsating bass kicked in—electrifying the audience.
Gina strutted onto stage wearing a long sleeved, tight-fitting pink mini dress with a lace-up front. Her hips swayed in perfect time to the rhythm as her arms and hands weaved her spell over the audience.
The alcohol proved itself a powerful seductress. Lisa pushed out all the problems of her life and opened up to the decadent atmosphere and the pounding music.
Normie tapped his hand on the table to the beat and watched Lisa as she bobbed her head in time to the music.
Gina slowly untied the front of her dress, exposing her ample cleavage, much to the crowd’s delight.
Then the room went dark. Only the dress continued to glow in the black light, accentuating Gina’s hourglass figure even more. The plunging neckline continued to part. Her breasts pushed to break free.
The crowd roared.
Lisa said, “Here comes the money shot.”
Normie sheepishly smiled, and said in a low voice, “You got a lot to learn, little girl.”
The dress fell to the floor. Gina stepped out of it. She continued her dance, wearing only a glowing top, and G-string. And the moment the song ended, she pulled off the top and tossed it to the floor.
The lights turned back on with Gina at the end of the stage, smiling like a prom queen. Her right forearm covered most of her breasts.
One dollar bills, a few fives, and even some twenties hit the stage as the lustful patrons showed their appreciation. Gina smiled and thanked everyone as she bent over and gathered the money.
“What? That’s it? She didn’t show any body parts. I thought the girls got naked?” Lisa said.
“That was Gina’s first dance. Each dancer will dance twice. The first time it’s to warm up the crowd. But not only that, if the dancer doesn’t feel like she makes enough money on her first dance, then she won’t dance the second time. If you want to see her in the buff you gotta show some respect. They treated Gina pretty well. You’ll get to see her shortly, in all her naked glory.” Normie raised his hand and ordered two more drinks. Lisa had reached the bottom of hers once again.
*
Rick wished he had taken his SUV instead of his Sedan. The roads to Devil’s Bone had seen much better days.
Captain Collins had come through for him. Using the discarded stationary, though it was a long shot, Collins had pulled some favors from the day supervisor at Yellow Cab, and found out a car had been dispatched to pick up Lisa and bring her to the address of The Dancing Bare in Devil’s Bone. The cabbie was still at the location waiting to bring her back.
Rick couldn’t imagine why Lisa would be going to such a dive. Maybe his feelings for her were only emotions he had imposed. What if she were nothing like the image he had created in his mind?
Some things still didn’t make sense. He needed to talk to Lisa face to face and put his mind, and his heart, at ease.
*
Normie waited at the dressing room door, clutching the lapels of his jacket in each hand. “Lisa, you about done?”
“Yes,” she said, pulling the door slowly open.
Normie ran his gaze from her head down to her six-inch white pumps. “You gonna wear a bikini? The top covers more than I like. The bottoms have potential. I know you didn’t wanna wear any of the outfits here, but are these the sexiest clothes you could bring?”
“I have sexier underwear, but I don’t want to dance in them. Don’t try to talk me into wearing any of your girl’s outfits. I don’t want to get cooties.”
“Eh, don’t worry about it. This is practice. You’re just going to stick your toe in the water tonight. I’ll buy you some new outfits for next time.”
“I don’t know if I can go through with this, Normie. My stomach has butterflies again.”
“I got just the thing.” Normie hustled two doors down to his office.
Lisa heard clanking and the closing of cabinets from the other room. Normie returned with a tall glass filled with a clear, fizzy liquid. A special home remedy of his own creation, Alka-Seltzer and rhophynol.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Seltzer, for your stomach. Drink up.”
Normie handed her the drink, then grabbed her by the arm, and directed her down the hallway. Lisa gulped the drink until the glass was empty.
Stopping at a door, Normie opened it and pushed her through a narrow, dark stairway that opened up to a stage.
Lisa found herself behind a set of curtains that hung from the ceiling to the floor.
Spinning her around, Normie pulled her close. “How about it baby? You in the mood? It’s show time!”
A rumble from Lisa’s stomach worked its way up and erupted as a burp right in Normie’s face.
“Get your shit together, girl. You got to be in control.”
“I don’t know if I can do this. I’m feeling a little woozy.”
“It’s only nerves. All the girls get them. Anyway, this is a practice show on a private stage I use to entertain some of my clients.” Normie grabbed her by the arm and took her beyond the curtain.
Lights above the stage outlined the perimeter. They shone so brightly Lisa squinted and used a hand to shade her eyes against the glare. She could see only a few feet beyond the stage. There were two empty vinyl couches. Darkness enveloped the rest of the room, preventing her from knowing its size.
“There’s nobody in here?” Lisa said.
“A few are in the back conducting business. Don’t worry about it.” Normie pushed her out to the middle of the stage and returned to the curtain. He pulled a remote control from his pocket. “Look down at the stage floor. You’ll get used to the lights. Forget about everything else. Pretend you’re here alone, dancing. Relax, get to it, have a good time.” He pushed the button on the remote, and the music swelled into the room.
A warm keyboard heated the distant wail of the singer. The bass and drums kicked in, pounding a steady rhythm.
Lisa turned and faced Normie. He was smiling, bouncing his head, and clapping to the beat. Then, she closed her eyes, drifting into the world of sensual freedom.
Sit back, wait for it, When you want me to do it, Sit back, wait for it, When you want to come.
Her hips began swaying, she held her arms tightly by her side, and then she stepped forward, bending her knees in a fluid, dancing motion.
Sit back, wait for it, When you want me to do it, Sit back, wait for it, When you want to come.
Breaking into a bump and grind routine, she used her hands to accentuate her long legs and magnificent breasts.
Get your timing right, Make it good for both of us tonight, Fulfill those dreams, Make me scream.
She squatted with her legs tight together, and then spread her knees wide apart, sucking her little finger while she opened and closed them.
Push it, Push it, In me, in me, Hit me with those deadly dreams.
Springing up, she unhooked her top in the front and set her breasts pushing free of restraint, then with her hands on her hips paraded around the stage. Her 36 D’s bounced with each step.
Sit back, Just do it, Sit back, When you want to come.
Lisa stopped at the front of the stage and tickled her right nipple. Her lef
t hand slid slowly down her stomach, into her bottoms, and between her legs. Her head leaned back, and her face softened into mock ecstasy.
I’m Coming, I’m Coming.
Normie stepped closer. “This girl is gold!”
Lisa’s hand slid out of her bottoms and up to her lips. She kissed her fingers and gave a long, animated wink.
Sit back, just do it, When you want to come . . .
Turning her back to the room, she placed a thumb on each side of her bikini bottoms, and pulled them slowly to the floor. Her bare ass was wide open to the unknown audience. Stepping out of the bottoms, she again pranced around on stage as if she owned the world.
When you want to come, Come!
Kicking off her shoes, she dropped to her hands and knees, and prowled like a tigress on the hunt until reaching the front of the stage.
The dream of, Or is it real love.
Crawling forward on her forearms, she kept her chest to the floor but her ass in the air, slowly gyrating her hips about as if enjoying a slow fuck.
Sit back, wait for it, When you want me to do it, Sit back, wait for it.
Her hips moved faster as the song rose to the crescendo.
Sit back, just do it, When you want me to do it, Sit back, just do it.
By this time her pelvis slapped against the floor, sending waves of pleasure as she neared orgasm.
On time, on time, on time.
She moaned loudly, not knowing if anyone could hear her over the music, and not caring if they did.
Come!
The music abruptly stopped. The room turned to pitch black darkness. Lisa’s erotic dream ended, shocking her back to reality.
“Normie, what’s happening?” Lisa sat up, the room so dark she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.
Grunting noises came from the back of the room.
“It’s the damn circuit breaker. The emergency lights will kick on after thirty seconds.”
Two dim battery powered floodlights cast their beams across the back of the room, and Lisa saw what was there for the first time.
Resurrection X Page 16
