Justice Falling (Falling #3)(15)
The more I thought about Nate and becoming physical with him, the more frightened I was. Thoughts of Tyler years ago flashed across my memory.
“No, Cami! You’re doing it wrong. Don’t bite my f*cking dick…suck it! Put your lips around the head and suck.” I tried my best, frantically taking his cock into my mouth and pretending it was an ice-cream cone, but it wasn’t working. Apparently, I did everything wrong. Tears formed in my eyes.
“Oh Christ, Cami. Don’t cry. Just, hold your mouth open.” I did what he said. “Now close it around my dick.” I followed his direction. “Now suck.”
He gripped his hand into my hair so tightly pain shot down my spine, but I didn’t move my mouth. “That’s it. Now I’m just going to f*ck your mouth, and you’re going to take it. Got it?” I nodded as he plunged deep into my mouth. The muscles around the back of my throat constricted, and tears formed then slid down the sides of my cheek to drip off my chin.
I didn’t care. Even if I had to gag and choke, I was determined not to stop. To please him, make my man happy, I could suffer through anything.
He f*cked my throat so hard that time; I couldn’t speak the next day. Even though I’d given it my all, Tyler wasn’t happy. He never was. From then on out, he’d tell me to open my mouth, hold onto his pant leg and wait while he shoved his cock into me. Usually, he’d pull out right at the end and blast his cum all over my face and tell me how perfect I looked covered in his spunk. The memory sent chills through my body, and I clasped the heavy coat closer to my scantily clad form. Once the cab I splurged on dropped me at Gems, I hustled in.
Gems was a gentleman’s club not one of those seedy strip bars. The women were all beautiful and healthy. The owners tested for drugs and alcohol use during shifts to ensure their dancers weren’t drunk. Gems wanted to be known for being a high-class establishment. The employees, especially the dancers, were not allowed to drink, smoke, take drugs or even eat on the premises. They didn’t want their girls drunk, sloppy or high as a kite while entertaining extremely rich businessmen. You had to have some serious cash to be a member of Gems.
The place was actually quite beautiful. The stage was set in a perfect square with a riser that brought each woman up from the floor. There were different props, pulleys, and hanging mechanisms a dancer could use. I stuck with the standard pole routines. Prior to being hired years ago, I was a talented gymnast, so the transition to being flexible on an upright pole instead of a balance beam, bars or a vault was relatively easy. Didn’t take long for Jin to teach me the standard moves and for me to expand on them. The main floor, where I typically danced, served as the normal strip show. Men gathered around the stage, and women danced for tips and a little more than minimum wage.
I was on in five minutes. Rushing through the catacomb of dark hallways under the first floor, I threw my stuff into my locker and checked my image in the mirror. After pinching my cheeks and glossing my lips one more time, I turned to head on stage.
“Good luck out there, Justice,” one of the girls said as we traded places on the stairs of the main stage. She’d just left her routine and was clutching her clothing in one hand. She had cat ears and a bowtie on but nothing else. I had a robe I left at the edge of the stage. I put it on right after performances. Some strippers were modest when not on stage. I was one of them.
“Thanks, Kitty!” I waved then made my way onto the dark stage. Tiny pinpricks of light in the glossy black stage led the way to the pole.
“Luck of the Irish, my ass.” I mumbled as I positioned said ass with my cheeks pressed up against the pole. As the lights rose, so did my arms. I clasped the metal bar over my head, arched my back to delectably display my corseted breasts as the light went up. Cat calls and male howls filled the air around me.
“Justice! Justice!” Several patrons howled my stage name as they caught a glimpse of my body. Smoke swirled at my feet, and I used the strength of one arm to lean out, grasped the pole by the hand, and did a perfect spin. Brilliant swirls of colored lights gleamed in my peripheral in a burst of rainbow delight. Mid-air I swung my legs up, gripped the pole with my thighs, and let my entire body dangle upside down prettily against the pole. My arms came out and I held myself upside down.
Delicately, I trailed down the pole and then, with a flick of the wrists and thighs, swung back around. All the blood rushed from my head to blur the patrons. That’s the way I liked it. No faces. No judgment. I preferred when the lights were so bright I couldn’t see how many there were, who was watching, or what they were doing to themselves. I just did my routine with as much gusto as I could muster and somehow it worked. Night after night I earned great tips and smacks on the ass from the owners.
Towards the end of my routine, I slid the zip slowly down the bodice of my corset and briefly caught the gaze of a patron just off to the right. He seemed familiar, but it was too dark to tell. The DJ played the music that lead up to the big reveal. “Looks like we’ve caught the leprechaun folks, now let’s enjoy that gold at the end of the rainbow.” His smarmy words screeched loudly over the big speakers. I held my breath. The cigar stench was thick in the air. It was a miracle I didn’t vomit all over the stage.
I knew what these men saw when they looked at me. Nothing but a pretty package of flesh to fantasize about. I hated that this was my life but pressed those thoughts deep down so I could get through the night. Realizing Tanner could one day find out what I’d done to support us forced huge armfuls of guilt pouring down my throat, clogging my chest. The men roared in excitement as I zipped the corset all the way down, holding the ends together to build the anticipation a bit longer.