Female Dancer Idv Novels & Stories

His power over her was terrifying, and she didn't know how much more she could endure. As night fell, she lay on the bed, her mind replaying the events of the day. The shattered photo, Dante's fury, his unsettling demand—it all haunted her. She couldn’t shake the image of the beaten man from her mind, his eyes filled with a silent plea. She needed to stay strong, to find a way out of this nightmare. But the more she learned about Dante, the more dangerous he seemed. She couldn’t trust anyone here, not even the maids. She was alone, trapped in a house full of shadows and secrets.

“So, is she like a dancer or…” “Yeah, she is. From what I have heard though, she is very professional and has high expectations of herself and the patrons when she is on stage. She never undresses and she always refuses lap dances. I heard that one of the perverts at the board office offered her a thousand dollars one night to give him a lap dance and she turned him down. One dance. That would be hard money to pass up but she turned him down and from what I heard, not nicely either. Told the scumbag there wasn’t enough money in Tennessee for her to crawl up on his sweaty lap.” I couldn’t help but giggle. “Yeah, that sounds like her. Not that I am dissing it or that there’s anything against w

“I love you too, Jadenne. More than anything. I would go through hell every day for you. I’d let a hundred old men look at me if it kept you safe. But next time I see you with a man like this… I’ll have to kill you myself. You hear me? I mean it. Stay away from this life.” I nodded into her shoulder, crying quiet now. Her hug felt strong and warm even after all the hitting. For a moment, the noisy club faded. It was just us sisters, broken and holding on. Then Ivy let go. Her eyes turned hard again. She marched over to the manager, the woman in the black dress who was standing there looking worried. “You don’t check ID?” Ivy shouted. “You let my fifteen-year-old sister in here? What kind of

The fog soon cleared and it was my diva I had pinned on the floor surrounded by other students and our master. It seemed to have been a test from the beginning. Applaud rose from the crowd that circled us. My diva Sammy gave me an ugly smirk and over powered me lifting me off the ground and kept me suspended in the air. I wailed like a baby for her to put me down. Yes, my diva was a girl and she was pretty strong at that, I wonder why my mother made such a choice.

My eyes kept drifting back to Red. She was on a small platform not far from me, giving a private lap dance to a young woman in a tight black dress. Red moved like pure sin. She peeled off her tiny top slowly, revealing perfect perky breasts with hard pink nipples. The customer’s eyes were glued to her. Red turned around, bent over, and shook her ass right in the woman’s face before sliding down onto her lap. She was completely naked now.

With full lips and a pointed nose, she looked like a goddess. Sasha watched as Eve changed into her work attire, a provocative lingerie set. Eve was a stripper at the clubhouse, but not just any stripper—she danced exclusively for VIPs who rented the various secret rooms in the building, not like the regular strippers who danced at the poles in the nightclub. She and a few other strippers were hand-picked to dance in these VIP secret rooms. "You're late," Eve said with a frown, pulling on a red thong. "Do you know what I had to do to get you this job?"

She turned to see a beautiful stranger staring at her with an innocent smile on his beautiful face. "May I have this dance?", he said hoarsely, holding out an open palm to her. She nodded and placed her tiny manicured hand on his large one, walking by him to the dancefloor where they went into the position of waltzing. "I'm Omari", he smiled again. She could already feel that weird feeling in her stomach, her cheeks were getting hot.

Is she a foreigner? "Well, our manager told us to keep her identity secret, so I am sorry Sir," I got mad at her answer. "But, oh, she's already in the dancefloor." My system celebrated, until I finally saw the woman whose dancing skill was enough to make me feel horny. No, this was wrong. I might get into trouble again by the fact that there were men adoring her luscious body.

No one. Six months ago, when she'd first applied to P-Valley, she'd worn a shorter red wig and brought a fake ID with a different name and age. Thank God she looked older than twenty-one. Uncle Clifford had barely glanced at the ID before hiring her on the spot. Now, as she finally rushed through P-Valley's back entrance, her phone showed 10:47 PM. Almost two hours late. *Shit.* ♡ ♡ ♡ The changing room was chaos as usual. Dancers doing makeup, adjusting costumes, arguing over mirror space, and music thumped through the walls from the main floor.

You disappoint me! She does not underestimate the woman's work, nor does she have a problem with what she makes a living for. Truth is, she doesn't give a damn about her or anyone. She was just unlucky because she was the woman who became the fiancée of the man she was flirting with. She won't let them just play with her feelings and make a fool of herself. "Tell me everything about her, Argus." "Veronica Vidal, she's 23. Her friends called her Bibi. Her mother is sick and she has three siblings, younger than her. She's been working at a strip club for five years now. And she and Diether met at a strip party."