Chapter 5: Marcy

Friday, June 16, 2023

“Move the hips! Move your hips more! My God! You are trying to seduce these people, yes? Not lull them to sleep!”

I responded to the yelling by rolling my eyes and moving my hips in wider circles, my arms overhead, and my feet arched. I had never been the most agile girl on my dance teams but always worked hard.

“Fluid movements!” Pryita Nanjani clapped her hands, her non-verbal way of saying she was seeing some improvement. “Good. You’re trying to make people want to get carnal with you, yes?” Act like you want them to get carnal with you!”

It was Friday evening, and I was dancing in a black leotard with a mostly open back in Preet’s Dance Studio with Pryita, the most expensive dance instructor on the planet as far as I was concerned. I paid her nearly $1,000 per month, so I listened to her and treated her words like they were the fucking law.

This was my second lesson, and she was helping me prepare for my audition with M in less than twenty-four hours. I’d been dancing for two hours; my feet and calves hurt, and my body was tired. I was relearning to use muscles I hadn’t used in years. Pryita tried to keep my spirits up by reminding me I didn’t have to be perfect in my audition; I just had to show M I could get the job done with enough practice and training.

Pryita worked with almost all of M’s dancers, men and women, which was why I was surprised she was still glancing at the bulge in my crotch every thirty seconds or so.

“Accentuate what you have to offer,” she said as I twirled. “You are a beautiful woman with a woman’s body but have a large penis. This is what M wants you to showcase. You are an enigma. Many people will want you. Wanting to get carnal with your womanhood and your penis. This is good. It’s how you make money and pay my extravagant fees.”

I barked out a laugh. I loved her boldness. Pryita had a dancer’s body: lithe, flexible, and long. She was about 5’7” with small breasts, coltish legs, and a tight ass. For a woman in her early forties, she looked about 30. Not a touch of white in her hair, not a wrinkle. I hoped I looked as good at that age as she did.

Pryita had given me three choices of songs for my audition. The song I chose was Redbone by Childish Gambino because I liked it best. Now, I had one day to learn a five-minute dance. Fortunately for me, Pryita was an excellent teacher.

“Stop!” she called as the music abruptly ended. “You are still too uptight. Are you stretching every day like I said last time?”

I nodded.

“And let me guess ... This week was your first time stretching in how many years?”

“Five?” I estimated, wincing as I did so. “Unless you count high school gym class.”

“I do not!” Pryita rolled her eyes. “From now on, you stretch every morning and every night until you are as limber as me. Got it?”

I grumbled and agreed. The music began again, and I picked up where I’d left off. Pryita wanted me to do a big number where I teased my cock and breasts but didn’t actually expose myself. She said the mystery would be the greatest part of the dance, leaving the clients watching and wondering to themselves if I truly had a cock to go with my feminine body and beautiful breasts.

The session ended at a quarter after 9. My body was tired after three hours of dancing, but I had the dance down pat. I would run through it with her again the next day. My phone had several unread messages—Penny, Petra, and seven from Gina.

Seven? No doubt Gina was drunk off her ass. I was about to delete them all unread when I stopped. The last text in the series caught my eye.

Gina: ANYTHING!!!!

I read through all the messages.

Gina: Missing u

Gina: So much

Gina: I know it’s been 4ever but I want to see u

Gina: I’m so lonely

Gina: I would give anything to see u right now. To touch u. Taste u.

Gina: I’ll do anything you want.

Gina: ANYTHING!!!!

I read Petra’s text next. She wanted to know how my dance routine was progressing and if I wanted to practice with her before my audition. Penny’s text told me she and Josie were going out for dinner with some other girls, and I was welcome to join them after my “thing” was over. I hadn’t told them exactly what I was doing, only that I had a “thing.” No way was I telling two plumbers that I was auditioning to dance at an uppity sex club.

Sweating and sore, I hobbled to my truck. Usually, I tossed my phone onto the passenger side seat, but I paused. I read through Gina’s texts again. Anything.

Then, I did something I never thought I would do. I typed out a response to my ex-girlfriend.

Me: Anything?

I didn’t send it right away. Bringing Gina back into my life might open a big, messy can of worms. But I wasn’t the same person I’d been when she and I dated. I’d grown physically and emotionally. I was a much stronger person.

I hit send and waited. My heart began to thump wildly. Gina. I had actually responded to a text from Gina. Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen. She was typing a response.

Gina: OMG! U responded. Hi!

Me: Hi

Gina: How are u?

Me: Good. You?

Gina: Lonely. Missing u still. Why did u finally respond?

Me: I don’t know. I guess I’m willing to hear you out.

Gina: Thank u! Can I come over? I want to see u

Me: I don’t live with my parents anymore. I’m in Denver.

Gina: Rly?

Me: Yes. For two months.

Gina: When will u be back in town?

Me: No idea. If you want to see me, you’ll have to come here.

Gina: Ok. I can do that. Could I stay the night?

Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea. You don’t have to come up tonight.

Gina: k but when?

My fingers shook as I set down the phone to think this through. I forced myself to remember how Gina had used me, manipulated me, and treated me like a pet when it came to sex with her shitty reward system. That couldn’t happen again. I had to start this off on the right foot so she understood exactly who I was and what I was willing to tolerate.

Me: How about tomorrow? Could you be here around 9 pm? I might let you stay the night if you’re good.

Gina: If I’m good?

Me: Yes. You said you’d do anything. Right?

Gina: Yah

Me: I am looking for a pet. A lesbian pet.

Me: If you’re willing to be my pet for the night, I’ll let you come over and stay.

A full minute passed before three dots appeared on my screen.

Gina: A pet?

Me: Yes. My pet. My well-trained pet. A pet that does what I tell it to without questioning. If you want to see me, this is how.

No response came. I waited for two minutes before giving up on her. I drove home, showered, and met up with Penny and Josie for dinner, keeping one eye on my phone the entire time. I had to avoid eating anything that would bloat me, so my choice for dinner was a light salad with vinaigrette dressing. The girls wanted to go clubbing with me, but I was too tired.

I woke Saturday morning to more texts from Gina.

Gina: Is this about humiliating me? Getting back at me?

Gina: Fuck that. I’m not ur toy.

Gina: What would u make me do?

Gina: Fine. I’ll give it a try. What time should I come over and what’s ur address?

I couldn’t suppress a grin as I typed out my response with my address, the time she should come over, and what I expected her to be wearing when she arrived. Then I got up and showered again. After I toweled off and dressed, I rechecked my phone. Gina agreed to everything.

This would be interesting.

Something had happened to Pryita in the fourteen hours since I last saw her because she was not in a good mood. She was on my ass about every mistake.

“Maybe you are not so interested in this job, Marcy?” was her most cutting remark. “Because if you dance like shit tonight for M, you will never sniff this opportunity again. Do it from the start. This time with less suck.”

She put me through the wringer for three hours. At the end of our session, she looked at me the way she might look at a piece of dirt she’d discovered under her fingernail.

“I guess that is the best you can do. Hopefully, it’s good enough to impress M. If so, you and I have much work to do. You are rustier than my papa’s first car in India.”

I was stretching on the floor, my face dripping sweat from dancing for almost three hours. I looked up at Pryita and gave her my sweetest smile. “Fuck you.”

Pryita laughed. “That is the attitude you need to have tonight.” She extended a hand and helped me off the floor. “Good luck with your audition. I do hope you get the job because it means more money for me.”

I laughed all the way out of her dance studio and back to my truck. I spent the afternoon running errands, my mind on my dance routine most of the day. In the early evening, I returned to my apartment, showered for the third time in twenty-four hours, and changed into my outfit for the audition: a red leotard with black leggings. My drive to the Black Velvet manor seemed to take far less time than when I’d met Petra there a week earlier. I had to repeatedly dry my hands on the seat because my sweaty palms made the steering wheel too slick. My heart thumped faster than the beat of my music. The last time I’d been this nervous was the night Jade and I first—

I pushed away that thought, reminding myself I’d always gotten bad nerves right before performing. It was one of the reasons I’d quit dancing.

Yet here I was about to perform for an audience of one. My racing heart told me it was scarier than performing for a crowd of parents, uncles, and aunts. I knocked on the side door and was greeted by M. She was dressed far more casually tonight in a pair of designer jeans and a blouse.

“You’re back!” she said, giving me a half hug and a peck on the cheek. “Come in. I’m excited to see what you’ve got!”

I followed her through the hallways to a room I’d passed during my previous visit. It had a small dais designed for dancing, complete with a stripper’s pole. Two dozen chairs surrounded two-thirds of the platform. M took a seat in the back row. “Pryita sent me your song, and it’s ready to go as soon as you are. Just let me know when. No pressure. Just relax and have fun. Assume you’ve already gotten the job, and this is just a formality.”

I tried to appear relaxed and ready, but I could not remember ever being so nervous. I had never auditioned for anything nor danced for one person in such an intimate setting. But this was the easiest and fastest way to make my dream of opening my own plumbing business come true. I needed a win.

I stripped off my sweats and T-shirt, kicked off my sandals, and stood on the platform wearing only my leotard and leggings. I draped my long, brown curls in front of my face. “Ready.”

The song started. One. One two. Then came the synth. My hips moved, swaying to the soft beat. Pryita’s voice screamed inside my head, “Act like you want them to get carnal with you!” I flipped my head back, exposing my face, and locked eyes with M. I wanted to break eye contact. I wanted to look anywhere but at her, but I didn’t. I was strong.

My spine arched as I undulated my hips sensuously, my hands running from my thighs to my stomach to my breasts. I twirled, bent, popped, and danced my heart out. M’s eyes stayed glued to me through the entire song. I tried to own the platform with my body. As the piano came in at the end, I used my hands to tighten the cloth around my crotch and accentuate the bulge between my legs.

M clapped for me as I finished. “That was great. Well done. Come sit down, and we’ll chat.” She patted the chair next to her.

Despite only dancing for five minutes, I’d broken a light sweat. I wiped my brow and took the seat next to my potential employer. She put a hand on my knee and left it there. “Well done. So before I offer you a job, I need to ensure we’re on the same page regarding my expectations.”

“Okay,” I said. “Petra explained quite a bit.”

“Yes, she is a dear. But as the owner and operator, it’s my responsibility to ensure you have all the information you need to make an informed decision. First, if you are only a dancer, your base pay will be $2,000 per night. You’ll still be expected to serve between dances. You’ll likely dance two times per evening. That way, whoever wants to watch you will have an opportunity. We have about two hundred people at every event. Wealthy, powerful people. Millionaires. Billionaires. People fly in from New York, LA, London, and Hong Kong for these events.”

“Wow,” I said, trying to sound appreciative of her clientele even though I didn’t care how far they flew to see me. “That’s impressive. How did you get into such a business?”

M pushed her glasses up on her nose, making her expression whimsical. “I made a deal with the devil.” She laughed lightly.

“Believe it or not, Marcy, I have a full-time job outside Black Velvet. I run this location as more of a hobby than anything else—a hobby I greatly enjoy. My clients are essential to me. As such, I need you to know that while I will protect my employees from mistreatment, I do not tolerate employees who misbehave or act unseemly. My clients are carefully vetted, screened, and warned about what is and is not allowed to prevent incidents. We have only had one or two since I started.

“So let me be clear. This is a sex club. You are allowed to have sex. And you should expect to be tipped for sex. That being said, you don’t have to receive money for sex if you don’t want to. You don’t have to have sex at all if you don’t want to. Most of the employees do have sex at our events. Because of the sexual activity going on, you must be tested weekly. Our clients will all be tested two days or less before any events. Those results are sent directly to us from the clinics. No tampering.

“I expect high standards of beauty. You’re essentially a model. If you fail to groom yourself to my standard—if you smell weird, if you begin to look even slightly overweight—you’ll lose your job. I expect you to smell heavenly. I will send you a list of approved perfumes and deodorants you may use. You must get a Brazilian wax less than three days before each event. Your finger and toenails must be properly maintained. And if you plan on participating in any anal activity during an event, I strongly recommend enemas and lubing an hour before arrival. Do you have any questions?”

“Not so far.”

“Good. Now, you may have opportunities to network with my clients if they approach you first. I can’t control that, but whatever happens between you and them outside of the walls of this manor is out of my hands. I can’t help if you get yourself into a bad situation. I can’t vouch for the conduct of anyone beyond these walls. So be smart. Be safe.”