Chapter 3: Strippedbitch

"Nooo"

I jolted from my chair and paced around the room. No, I cannot do stripping as I am not a Strippedbitch.

"You can't do that" I glared at Michael.

"You don't have an option here Venus and like I said that contract you claimed is all flush in my toilet along with my shits," he spats.

Eww gross.

I try not to think of the toilet and shit part. It's so disgusting. I huff, crossing my arms across my chest. Michael ignores my tantrums and puts the clothes on my table.

"Look you're lucky that we are not pushing you around. Consider this as a favor," he said.

I heavily sigh.

This is unbelievable.

"How much?" I ask, knowing that I'm not going to win this argument. It's not like I have a choice. Do I?

Michael stood there looking at me.

"Your freedom from us."

I unwind my folded arms and look at him in shock. Wow! Lord, is this a dream coming true. Does this mean I won't be working here?

I mean I have the money to start a normal life outside of new York and move away from here. Maybe a waitress in a restaurant.

I have enough money from my night show to buy an apartment in the city but not enough to survive me for the year.

I felt like I wanted to cry, but I didn't want to let him know. I pretend not to sound too exciting.

"You're lying" I gasped, but he shook his head no.

"Okay, if I walk in there give the client his dance show of a lifetime. You will never hold me against it. Right?"

Again, Michael shook his head, yes.

I know when he is lying and be true to his words.

"Fine, I'll take it"

"Ahh don't make it sound like an option," he said.

It's my turn to scoff.

"Yeah, keep dreaming but you got 5 minutes. The clock is ticking" he sings a song and walks back to the door.

"One more thing" I blurted, and Michael stops.

"Am I allowed to bring my whip"

He raised his brow.

What? Can't I go kinky on my client and whip him with it before granting my freedom.

"Very funny but he's not into BDSM. So keep it for later" he sternly told me before exiting.

When he closed the door I looked for my heels, and once I found them I threw my left heel at the door, hoping that it was his head I hit.

"Bastard" I mutter under my breath.

He couldn't even take a joke. I turn around to the table and lift the clothes.

Funny. I thought as I assessed the clothes Michael picked out for me.

"Officially a Strippedbitch tonight"

I grimaced when I said Strippedbitch.

I know it doesn't sound bad to others, but hello, people.

I've never stripped in front of any man in my whole 27 years of life. I maybe dance but never did I fully expose my private parts. Ughh.

Feeling defeated, I undressed and picked up the high school skirt.

Marvelous.

I put it on and moved to put on a red lace strapless bra before putting on the white blouse.

We're playing a high school dance-off tonight.

How stupid!

No wonder why there's an increase perv out there. I thought. I then walk over to my selection of heels in the room and pick out the red ones.

I look at myself in the mirror.

Perfect, but I am not going to walk out here like this. I huff and move to grab my nude trench coat

Wait! I think I missed something. I stood in front of the mirror again and checked myself.

However, when I feel the cold air brush my private part, I curse even more.

Shit! I forgot to put on an underwear.Gosh, how did I miss that?

Stress.

Right.

I am about to look for my red lace underwear when the room door slams open.

"Out now school girl, boss order" Josh command.

I huff putting on the coat and before I get out I grab the bottle and chuck it. "Ahhh" I slap my cheeks and check out myself one more time before walking out of there.

I'll just strip off my blouse and dance. He won't be looking down there. I try to reassure myself and hope that he won't ask for me to spread my precious legs.

I arrived in one of the VIP rooms and saw a man sitting on the couch. I couldn't make out his face as it's kind of dark in here.

I slowly closed the door behind me and turned to face him again.

The sound of faded music from outside can still be heard here.

I was about to make my first move when his deep voice stopped me.

"Take off your panty" he orders me.

Oh wow! Good thing because I don't have one. However, I don't think I'm supposed to do it.

I stood there not knowing what to do.

Obviously, I did not sign up for this. To get naked in front of a man.

Wrong, you just did a while ago. Reminded my subconscious. Michael says it was a dance not getting dirty with the client. I argued.

Looking at him as if he was stupid. I remain standing there like an idiot.

"Underwear off or do you want me to shoot you? " He threatened me. Pulling out his gun, he places it on the table beside him.

Not wanting to die soon, I reply, "I'm not wearing one."

It may sound intriguing, but who would have determined that my first client was a horny murderer on a spree.

The click of his tongue twice made me refocus on his unseen face.

"Coat off" he commands.

Slowly, I untied the robe of my trench coat. Then I removed it from my body. Dropping my coat on the floor behind my heels.

"Strip"

I swiftly removed my lace white bra and my high school mini-skirts.

I stood there, naked in front of his eyes, uncomfortably.

"Crawl"

Shivers crept through my body. His voice was getting deeper and huskier.

I feel something pooling between my thighs. I've never done this before, but I am not stupid not to know the meaning of his words and the way I'm feeling right now.

It's the tequila working through my system now. Damn straight but blame the bloody tequila.

"What are you waiting for stellina. Crawl" he order once again and his hand move to the gun on the table.

I thought Michael said he was not into BDSM. I thought as I dropped down on my knees and obediently crawled towards him.

My ass is sticking out and swaying from side to side as I crawl.

When I got nearer and his face became clear. My heart's beating speeds up a bit.

He is the same man from the crowd. My heart speed keeps increasing. If I had a heart attack, I would have probably got one here.

He is definitely under my influence now. I thought and a smile tug on my mouth.

He sat there, eyeing me like a predator ready to pounce his prey. Again, there is no expression shown on his face.

I reach his legs and slowly I get up. I don't know where this confidence comes from.

I swear it's the tequila. I think. Yet I think it's probably by being an official Strippedbitch, but I hope it won't earn me the death penalty.

He doesn't move.

I swing my hips and slowly get down on his lap.

I feel something poke at my bare vaginas. My breath hitch.

Nervously, I put my hands on his shoulder.

We're face to face. I try to control my breath.

Gosh, am I going to die right now?

This freakin' demi-god is killing me.

When I finally see a smirk on his face, I smile and say, "hello handsome."