THE DARK FIGURE

Chapter 1

One thing I loved about the job was the power. All eyes were on me, and the feeling was electric, almost like cocaine. After every night, I craved for more. Every move I made attracted the eyes of the crowd— I could feel their lust. They all wanted me, and they cheered for me.

There was something sensual about stripping; the fact that everyone wanted me when I danced on the pole fascinated me. I loved the job, yes, but I was forced into it, and at that time, my biggest goal in life was to gain my freedom.

I stood on the dimly lit stage, my heart pounding in sync with the rhythmic beat of the music. The spotlight shone down on me, casting a seductive glow over my fiery red hair and accentuating every curve of my body. With each movement, I exuded a confidence that made the audience gasp in awe.

My on-stage persona had its allure too. That alter ego I created became an extension of myself, someone who exuded confidence and sensuality without hesitation. Remembering the reactions from the audience and the connections I made through that persona made me smile.

The men in the crowd watched me with hungry eyes, reaching out with hands eager to touch, but I stayed just out of their reach. I had learned to reject their advances with grace, maintaining a distance that kept them yearning for more.

A flicker of movement caught my eye, drawing my attention to the VIP lounge. Among the shadows, a figure stood out – his dark brows and magnetic icy blue eyes captivated me, tall and commanding, he exuded an aura of dominance that was hard to ignore. His silhouette was cast against the low light, his form cloaked in an enigmatic darkness.

He was sitting comfortably in the VIP lounge separated by glass. He sat observantly, sipping what I assumed was whiskey. Obviously, he looked like he only drank expensive alcohol. The black-clothed man. I noticed him, he always sat quietly, always looked at me, but that was where our interactions ended, with stares. When he raised his glass, I could see knuckle tattoos and a ring on every finger. There was something dark and powerful about him; his ever-piercing gaze magnetized me.

His stare was cold and piercing, the stare of a wild animal just waiting to pounce. Seeing him from that distance, from the barrier of the glass, I realized just how much power he held.

The other men at the lounge smiled at him, and he didn't say anything. One of my best qualities was how observant I could be, and I knew this man controlled all the men in the lounge.

The colored lights and the dark background added to the sexual allure. Climbing onto the stage, everyone's reaction and expression changed; Rosita was a good dancer, but I was just better – that was the Luna effect.

I cat walked slowly to the stage, then kissed a loyal Luna worshiper upfront. Soon after, "God Is a Woman" by Ariana Grande came on. It was my favorite song to dance to, the power it had made me believe that God really was a woman. I wanted the attention of the man. I wanted him to see only me, so my movements became more deliberate, each motion a silent invitation to the enigmatic figure. The distance between us seemed to dissolve as our gazes locked, a tension building between us that was almost palpable. His eyes held a promise, a hunger that mirrored my own.

I swayed my hips and did some hand movements, a little twirl as I mouthed the words of the song. The pole was my favorite tool on the stage, and I didn't let the six-inch bright orange pumps I was wearing deter me.

My goal that night was simple, make them believe God is a woman, and get the sole attention of the man, easy like taking candy from a baby.

My hair was another of my favorite tools to use when dancing on the pole. A simple hair twirl or spin could turn a simple hip movement into something sensual. I moved like I didn't have any bones in my body, bending and twirling and still looking effortlessly beautiful while doing it. I added a moan-like facial expression for the thrill of it, I looked straight into the man's eyes and at that point, men were throwing money at my feet.

Coming down from the pole, I mouthed the words, "baby lay me down and let's play" and did a little twirl with the pole, using my legs to get back on the pole. I did a reverse, held on with my legs, and did a cowgirl ride. That was when the crowd really went wild.

I danced with renewed fervor, my body a canvas of seduction as I arched, spun, and dipped. The crowd's cheers became a distant hum as my focus remained fixated on the tall, dark figure in the VIP lounge. With every step, I aimed to captivate him, to draw him into the irresistible pull of my performance.

After some not so subtle hip movements, my favorite part of the song came on, and everyone began to sing along: "God is a woman, God is a woman."

As the music built to a crescendo, I twirled and twisted, my body moving with the fluidity of a seasoned seductress. The room felt charged with electricity, and the crowd's longing for me intensified.

A hush fell over the crowd as I approached the edge of the stage, my fingertips grazing the outstretched hands of eager spectators. Their desire was palpable, and they reached out to me, trying to bridge the gap between us, hoping to touch the woman who had stolen their hearts.

But I stayed just out of their reach, teasingly pulling back, maintaining a delicate balance between allure and restraint. Their pleas for my attention grew louder, their calls and cheers filling the air like a chorus of desire.

With each beat of the music, I shed layers of my costume, revealing more of myself, not just physically, but emotionally too. The crowd's eagerness reached a fever pitch as they yearned to see more, to know more about the enigmatic woman captivating them.

That performance was an act of liberation, a declaration of my autonomy and the power I held over my own body. As I moved in sync with the rhythm, I caught glimpses of the faces in the audience, their eyes filled with admiration and longing, their bodies leaning forward in anticipation.

And to finish up, I did a full split from the pole, and everyone went wild; that's right, and that woman was Luna.

As the performance came to a close, the applause from the audience was thunderous. They begged for an encore, wanting to be captivated by my presence once more. I took a bow, feeling a sense of accomplishment and liberation, knowing that I had left them craving for more.

I executed a final move that brought me to the very edge of the stage. Our eyes remained locked, the charged connection unbroken. And in that fleeting moment, I knew – my dance had succeeded in ensnaring his attention, a dangerous game of desire and power had begun. I didn't know how much time passed with us just staring into each other's eyes. Finally, I saw the need to leave the stage; a new song came on, and I honestly wasn't in the mood for dancing anymore, not when he was watching. I wanted him to see me dance without the glass barrier.

But as I looked back to the dark corner, the mysterious man was gone, lost in the sea of eager faces. I was left with questions swirling in my mind, wondering who he was and why he looked at me with such intensity. That night would forever be etched in my memory, not just for the intimate performance as Luna, but for the enigmatic presence of the man who watched me from the shadows, and the crowd that begged for my attention and affection.