Memoirs of a Bottom Bitch | completed

5.

I found myself in a Pink Bikini and clear plastic open-toed stilettos standing in front of a large mirror. It was my first night at Remy's Gentleman's club, Bliss had introduced me to Paris, who had helped me with my make-up and my hair. I went from fifteen to nineteen in just under an hour. She showed me a few tricks and gave me a few pointers. "You nervous?" Paris asked me with a smile. She was dressed in a black lace one piece, a red wig with sharp china doll bangs, that matched her red lips.

"Yeah, I ain't never stripped before." I said tears standing the back of my eyes.

"How old you said you was again?" She sized me up with a smirk.

"17," I lied. She nodded and licked her lips.

"Look, alot of hoes come through here with bullet wounds and c-section scars, you perfect. You got this, you pretty as hell and your body is almost untouched." She pulled a small tube from the lining of her sleeve. "This will help you get through your first night." She stuck her pinky nail into the tube and held it up to her nose and sniffed it, I did the same. "You about to enter a world that make and break bitches everyday, so make every dollar like it's your last." She giggled. "Now, go make yo' ass some money."

I made my way to the floor, Nelly's tip drill blasted through the speakers. The smell in the air was marijuana and the scent of nakedness. I strutted across the floor, almost gliding in my pumps (which was a surprise to me) I found an older white man who had been eyeing me since I walked out from the back. "Hello," I whispered in his ear. I don't know if it was the nose candy or the fact that I wanted to make some money. "Can I dance for you?"

"Of course, beautiful. What's your name?" He asked me with a innocent smile.

"Doll, Doll Face." I replied back.

One lamp dance turned into a few, and I had made my rounds around the club twice. My handfuls of twenties and fives, felt like heaven; it felt like power. This money was so quick and so easy, I couldn't believe the money I was holding. The way the men looked at me with Lust in their eyes made me feel like I owned the room, like I owned the building. I was on a currency high, and I wouldn't be coming down anytime soon.

As the club closed, and the men left. I was alone in one of the bathroom stalls, with a purse full of money. I had counted every single dollar that graced my finger tips, and after my "pay-out fee," I was working with a grand and some change. I couldn't believe it, I had made all this money from shaking my ass, swaying my hips, and smiling. I zipped up my purse and made my way out to the parking lot, where Bliss was waiting on me.

"How much you make?" He asked me as I climbed into the truck and kissed his cheek.

"A Rack," I replied.

"You made a stack?" He grinned. "Give it to me," He said.

"Why?" I asked him. "I made this money," I replied.

"I take care of everything you need, right?" He paused. "It's alot of dirty motherfucker's in the world, and I don't need nobody trying to steal from you. So, when you get your tips, you give em' to me and I continue to take care of you like I been doing. You don't need it anyways, you got me." He replied.

I was hesitate to hand him the wad of money from my purse, would he spend it or save it, and was he looking out for my well being? He had never asked for anything, maybe cause up until this day I had never had any time of income and rarely had gotten an allowance.

"That's my baby," He smirked taking the wad, almost snatching it from my finger tips.

The month seemed to fly by, and each night It had gotten easier to dance in the club, I had even started doing my make-up on my own, and I had even acquired a few regular customers. My pockets was booming, but with Bliss I hadn't been seeing a dollar. I started taking fifty dollars each night and tucking it away on my own, just so I had my own money sometimes.