Anger at Amethyst grows to an all-time high as I watch the way she dances. Does she really want to be back on that stage so badly, she’d dance in those cunts' places?
I’m so consumed with Amethyst’s movements on that stage, I ignore Dixie’s response as well as her grinding down on my cock. Watching Amethyst, I’ve lost all desire to fuck Dixie or even Gia at this point. Only Amethyst will be able to ease the hunger growing inside for me.
Damn her. I think it’s time I put the ice princess in her place. If not for the fact she didn’t report this bullshit to the club then for my hard as fuck cock that won’t see relief from anyone but her.
As the song comes to an end and the techno beat of her second song begins, I tap Dixie’s thigh. “Hop up, babe,” I order.
“Want me to get Gia and meet you in one of the private rooms?” she asks as she climbs off my lap.
“Naw, I’m good. I’ve got shit to do,” I say as I down the last of my Patrón and stand.
“But . . .” Dixie starts to protest but at my glare she backs away. She knows better than to argue with me. Holding her gaze I’m not liking what I see. Evidently, I’ve given her too much attention, and I’ll have to remedy that. Sucks because her pussy is tight, but at the same time, I’m not about to let some cunt squeeze my balls like they belong to her.
Nope, not about to happen. I saw what my mom did to my dad, and what my aunt did to my uncle then to my dad. Women are nothing but conniving bitches who use their bodies to get what they want.
Hence what my main problem with Amethyst is— she used her looks to get a job here and used her body to provoke all the men around to want her.
It wouldn’t be so bad, and I wouldn’t care so fuckin’ much, if it weren’t for the fact this bitch is under my skin and I don’t even know her real name.
However, that’s about to change. Amethyst is in for a rude awakening as I’m about to take control and she’s going to answer to me as I take possession of her.
She’s about to become mine to own.
Chapter Two
Victoria
Over the last two years, I’ve worked at several different places, but working at Dolly’s Playhouse, I think, is my favorite of them all. Since being here, I feel like I’ve finally found my place. Well, besides the one dark cloud that seems to always be lurking.
Tracker.
Ever since I first started dancing here, he’s hated me. All because I rebuffed his attempt in getting a lap dance from me. It was my one stipulation with working in a strip club. I didn’t do private dances of any sort. Because of this I became one of the favored girls here. Men and women alike came in just to watch me. Then after the show, if they had the money, some would get a private room from the brothel part of the club.
Others would just grab one of the other strippers and get them to give them the lap dance. Sometimes they do this right in the main room so they can watch the show at the same time.
After Stoney and the club promoted me to manager, I was ecstatic. I loved the fact I was being trusted with such an amazing job. Even if at times it was a headache. Like for instance, dealing with Gia and Dixie, who seem to hate me for reasons I don’t know. Then other reasons, like what happened today, where I had to fire two of the dancers for doing drugs.
I’m not even worried about the part where they’d been sucking their dealers dick and balls at the same time. That’s a normal thing around here seeing someone have sex.
Not that I’d know anything about sex besides what I’ve seen. That’s what happens when you’re a virgin at twenty. I should feel self-conscious about the little detail, but I don’t. I see it as something special I’m not going to just give away without it going to the right person.
Sad part is, in my head, the person I want to give my virginity to despises me.
How dumb do I have to be to want Tracker?
It hurts every time I see him with Dixie and Gia. Doesn’t help those two are constantly bragging about his dick.
Maybe they’re the reason I decided to get back on stage tonight after months of not performing. To prove to myself that I can be seen as someone sensual and provocative. Foolish to think I know, but when you have beautiful thin women surrounding you all day, they can make you feel inferior.
Several times I’ve heard more than one member of the staff joke that the only reason I even got the promotion to manager is because I wasn't good enough to be a stripper. That I was the laughing stock of the club because I wouldn’t give lap dances.
I might see it differently, but their words always worm their way in, and I begin to doubt myself. It’s always the same from the way my parents treated me to Parker and now these women.
Sure, I love this place. The customers and even most of the guys are great to be around. For the most part, I can ignore the vindictive bitches, but then Tracker has to come in. He throws me off kilter.
Seeing him at his usual table with Dixie in his lap, I took a breath and closed my eyes while I did the first routine. As it came to an end and the second song started, I open my eyes to find Tracker standing up. He must be heading to one of the private rooms like always.
My heart begins to pound in my chest when Dixie storms away from Tracker and his gaze is firmly on me. Well then, since his attention is on me, I might as well make this a dance he’ll never forget.
Lifting my hands to my neck, I unclip the back of my top and let it slide off my shoulders. Right as the top would have shown my nipples to the crowd, I turn away from them and let the material drop to the floor.
Grabbing hold of the pole in the middle of the stage, I do a move I’d only ever done in private. With a deep breath, I hoist myself up on the pole and climb close to the top. Tightening my legs, I let go of the pole and freefall backward until my back is pressed to the cool metal. I stay like this for the briefest moment before grabbing the pole with my hands and loosen my legs enough to kick out into an upside-down split.
The roar of the crowd spurs me on as I wrap one leg back around the pole and lift myself to where I’m hanging sideways in the air with my other leg bracing me. As I do this, I open my eyes and find Tracker not standing near his table but directly in front of the stage. The narrowing of his eyes tells me he's more than pissed right now.
Well, whoop-de-freakin-doo. Nothing new there.
Wanting to finish my time tonight on stage with a bang, I run my hands along the sides of my breast at the same time I arch my back. Using the leg I’m bracing myself with, I quickly wrap it around the pole and begin to swing as I descend to the floor. Just as I make it close enough, I place my hands on the stage and kick out to do a cartwheel, making sure to keep my back to the crowd.
“Give it up for Amethyst,” Blain, the club DJ, calls out as catcalls and whistles fill the silence of the room.
I barely take a step to exit the stage before I find myself being swung around and hoisted over someone’s shoulder. No, not someone— Tracker. I’d know the smell of his cologne anywhere. It’s an intoxicating scent.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yell as soon as we’re away from the crowd.
“Shut the hell up,” Tracker growls, smacking my ass as he storms down the hallway heading to my office. I don’t have to see where I’m going to know.