Black Romance - 6 Pole Dance

“Come,” the man said sternly, flipping his shadowed fingers in the dimly lit room. His accent was one I didn’t hear very often, it sounded more Western than European.

Stepping in softly, I closed the door behind me, knowing that once it was shut, I was his until time was up—or at least until his money ran out.

“Of course, I’m sorry to make you wait.” Forcing the confidence and complying tone in my voice, I strolled into the room like a woman on fire.

This was all a game. I was trained to pull money out of the customers, taught to manipulate them into giving me more.

But that came with a heavy price. I wasn’t allowed to say no to their darkest desires.

Saying no left me with bruises, it left me hurting on the outside just as painfully as I hurt on the inside. I was already shattered, my heart a beating pile of broken glass inside my chest. It wasn’t worth it anymore to ache on the surface.

Stepping onto the stage, I curled my fingers around the cold metal pole, swinging around it in a wide circle.

Thin tendrils of white smoke spilled from the man’s nostrils as he smoked a cigarette. The end lit bright red with each inhale, dimming slightly as he let out a breath of toxic fumes.

Starting my dance, I wrapped my leg around the pole, curving my spine and dropping my head back to look at him upside down.

He didn’t look or act like most of the other customers I’ve had in the past. I was used to greedy hands, slurred words, breath that stunk of strong booze, and men with no self control. The guys that came in wanted immediate gratification.

This man was none of those things. He was too still, too stoic, too calm.

He didn’t grunt or groan, he didn’t smile or lean in closer to get a better look at my body. He stayed relaxed back, his shoulders and body comfortably reclined against the seat. The only motion I could see in the dark was his hand raising to his lips to suckle the end of his cigarette.

Snapping my head up, my hair floated around my face, falling back into place. “You know in here you can have anything you want, anything you desire.” Holding the pole, I stuck out my ass, dropping my head to my feet. Slow and precise, I rolled up, seductively looking over my shoulder at him. “What do you desire?”

Expelling a huge plume of smoke, he tapped the ash head off into the small tray. “I desire nothing,” he said, his tone as still as his body.

“Everyone desires something, I’m sure you’re no different.” Spinning on the sharp tips of my heels, I dropped down quickly, butterflying my legs open and grinding back up the pole. “I’m here for you, I’m here to give you anything you want.”

“You’re here because I’m paying you to be and nothing more.”

My lips pulled up into a big smile as I flirted my tongue over my bottom lip. It was so easy now to act the part, to switch on the role I had been trained to play. It scared me the first time I recognized it, the very first moment I didn’t have to force my lips up and they went naturally, a muscle memory from verbal and physical abuse.

“I’m here for you, don’t deny me, Baby.”

The man let out a gruff chuckle, putting out his cigarette and checking his watch. “I have you for half an hour, let’s not waste it with you talking. Just dance.”

“That’s all you want? You don’t want anything else from me?” Stepping to the edge of the stage, I ran my hands up over my breasts and squeezed them hard. “Because I’m good for more than just dancing.”

He sat quietly, his already dark eyes turning jet black. “Dance.”

The way he said it sent a shiver up my spine. There was power in his voice, and a part of me was afraid to not follow his orders.

But that small flicker of fear was nothing compared to what my owner would do to me if I didn’t bring him more money.

“Baby, don’t be shy, I won’t bite.” Sitting on my knees, I curled my fingers over the edge of the stage and arched my back so my ass went up high. “Unless you want me to. In here you can have anything you want, there’s no rules, no one to tell you no.”

“Did you not hear me?” he asked. I watched him through the smokey haze that was filling room as he gently slid his thumb back and forth over his fingertips.

Moving my legs off the edge of the private stage, I walked towards him, adding a little extra kick to my hips. “I heard you just fine,” I said, running my finger up his arm as I moved to his side.

Tracing his shoulder, I let my fingers play with the soft hair at the base of his neck as I leaned over to rest my lips against his ear. “But men don’t come here just to see me dance.” Blowing cool air across his lobe, I saw his muscles clench. “Tell me what you came for.”