Backstage at the club, I put on my new outfit; the cheaper version of what Remy bought me. I didn't realize the shit cost twelve hundred dollars until I went to purchase it in another color. Now I'm stuck with a cheap substitute that rides up my ass like it's trying to crawl inside of me.

I'm also stuck with this job, working weekday lunches to try to scrape together my tuition payment and five hundred extra dollars together by the end of next week. Life's a serious bitch.

From the corner of my eye, I spot Cheshire stands with a couple of the other girls, chatting as they do their makeup. She glances in my direction and I feel a twinge of nervousness. They're talking about me. Again.

After they're done with their little chat, Cheshire strolls over in my direction as she snacks on the last of her bag of chips. How she eats like that and still rocks a body better than mine, I will never understand. The bitch has gifts.

She says nothing, continuing to snack as the other girls make their way out to the floor. When they leave, she moves to stand next to me. "So, the chickenheads have been clucking again," she says between sucking the salt from the tips of her fingers.

"And what have they been saying?"

"The rumor is that you've landed a better job. They're jealous."

Everybody talks. "Sounds about right."

She leans against the vanity, propping her tight, perfect ass right in my view. I want to hate her, I really do. "So, is it true?"

I attempt to gauge her intent, but I doubt she'd gossip about me anyway. "Yes."

Her eyebrows shoot up. She leans towards me to whisper. "What is it?"

"My brother owns an escort service -- but before you ask me for a job, know that I have no say in who he hires."

She chuckles. "That's fine, girl, I'm not asking. I have different goals in mind." She looks away with a smile on her pretty, red-painted lips. "You know the ranch out on I-15?"

Everyone knows that ranch. It's one of the most famous brothels in the country. "Yeah."

"I have an interview with them next week. If all goes well, I'll be out of here too."

"Well, shit!" I exclaim. "I'm happy for you, but I'm going to miss you, girlie."

"I know. You're the only person I actually like here," she pouts. "But if we both stop working here -- which let's pray we do -- let's do real friend things like hang out and call each other and shit," she says as she stands again. "I mean it. You have my number for a reason."

I chuckle. "Okay. That sounds like fun."

"Fingers crossed for us both." She smiles and walks away, swaying her hips as she goes. Goddammit, why can't I hate her? I get off my ass and scramble out onto the floor behind her.

It's lunchtime on a Friday, so that means the club is full of college boys, tourists, and businessmen. The girls have already fought for and claimed who they thought were the big spenders, now I was stuck with the frat boy leftovers. They're cheap little pricks, but I guess they can't spend all of daddy's money at the strip club. 

A group of three boys sits away from the stage. They point and ogle the women as they dance, laughing and talking about how much they totally love vagina and not dick.

"Hey, sweethearts," I greet them. All three look over at me with smiles on their stupid, drunk faces. "Want some company?" I crawl into the booth and carefully straddle the lap of the boy in the center.

"Hey, beautiful," he says. "What's your name?"

"I'm Moxie." I slide my hands up and down his chest and glance between the three of them. "Any of you interested in going somewhere more private?" I brush my hair over my head as I raise and lower myself over the boy's lap, teasing him. "I think I could handle all three of you at once." Whoops, wrong job.

"Wait," the one to my left says. I look at him but can't figure out what he wants. "You're Maggie, aren't you?" Shit. "You're in my A&P class!" Fuck.

"Great," I purr. "Interested in a dance or not?"

"I didn't know you were a stripper. Wow!"

"You know her?" the one on the right leans forward to ask.

"Yeah, dude. She goes to school with us!" The idiots begin their own conversation as if I'm not sitting on one of their laps.

"What? No way!"

"Yeah, man!" Man, this is annoying as fuck, dudes, I think as I roll my eyes.

"Damn, baby," the one I'm straddling finally says to me. I look down at him with annoyance. "If you need some money, I have a few things you can do for me."

"And what's that?" I ask. "Help you finish all your chores so daddy gives you your allowance?"

His smile fades into a scowl. "You have a smart mouth, bitch."

"I do," I agree without pause. "But contrary to popular belief, being a fucking asshole won't make up for your tiny dick," I say as I pat him on the cheek. "Have a great day, boys." I stand and start to make my way elsewhere.

"Hey, hey, wait!" I stop in my tracks, dropping the anger from my face before I turn back around. He scans my body and grazes his teeth over his bottom lip. "How much for a private dance?"

I have every intention of telling him to fuck off, but I catch the glare of my manager. He crosses his arms and gestures towards the frat boys with his head as if to say "get back to work". 

I fucking hate this job.

♡♡♡

I make it to the bar near Remy's office building and they let me in without checking my ID. Inside, I immediately spot him at the counter, run over, and take a seat on the stool next to him before he sees me. "Hey, bro."

He turns with surprise. "Hey! You made it." He places his hand on my back and leans forward to kiss my cheek. "Didn't think they'd let you in."

I place my finger on my lips to shush him. "They were distracted by my tits. Now, show me what you brought me."

He reaches into his bag and places a manila folder in front of me. "These are three I think will work well for you. Of course, you don't have to pick any of them if you don't want to."

"I know. Show me!"

He opens the folder and slides me the first stapled set of papers. A Polaroid of a young, average-looking man is paper clipped to the corner. Flipping through the pages, I find a small resume, STD test results, and a list of requests.

"He wants a blonde," I say aloud.

Remy raises an eyebrow. "So?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm not blonde, idiot."

"You could dye your hair."

"I'm not going to dye my hair for a man," I tell him with an edge of condescension in my voice. He should know that much about me by now.

"You might for twelve hundred bucks." I look at him in surprise. He flips to the last page and points to the amount. "You think I'd offer my little sis to these guys if they weren't willing to pay top dollar?"

"You're sweet to me, but I don't look good blonde. Who's next?"

"You do look good blonde," he says matter-of-factly as he hands over the next file. "This one seems good. He's a regular, wants a change of pace. The other girls have all told me he's very nice."

I lean my chin onto my fist and glare at him suspiciously. "So what's the catch?"

Remy shrugs. "He likes anal and his wife doesn't?"

I roll my eyes. "What the fuck, Remy? I'm not here to audition for the role of 'missing orifice'."

Remy laughs, his eyes squinting as he shakes his head at me. "You're ridiculous." He lifts his drink and takes a sip.

I move Anal Play to the side, and my eyes widen on the third Polaroid. A picture of an older man, possibly mid-forties stares back at me. He looks like a model, his blue eyes staring at the camera from under his well-defined brow. His nose is thin and straight, his shaved jaw sharp and chiseled. Damn. "Oh, hello."

"You like him?" Remy asks. There is something leading in the tone of his voice.

I look at him sideways. "Yeah. What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing. There's nothing wrong with any of them. It's just that this one comes with a bit of dedication on your part."

"What do you mean?"

He flips to the last page and points. "He wants a girlfriend."

I rear back slightly with my surprise. "What does that mean?"

"Basically, he'll provide you some sort of stipend, maybe something extra on top of it, and in exchange, he can have you whenever he wants," he says. 

I look up at him. "So, like a Sugar Daddy."

"In a way, yes."

The idea makes my body come alive. My skin prickles, my breasts feel heavy and tender under my shirt. "That sounds ..." I move my hips against the stool, applying pressure to the ache between my legs. "Fun."

"I don't know much about him personally. I met him when I sold him his condo, and I know he's a doctor of some kind. He's paid for my girls for a couple years now, and I've gotten rave reviews on his ... uh ..."

"His penis, Remy?" I ask with an amused grin.

"... Yeah." It's hilarious watching him get so uncomfortable when he talks about another man's dick, especially considering how fond he is of his own. "He said it would be easier for his schedule if he cut out the appointments. I told him I'd see what I could do, but when he put down what he was willing to pay, I decided I'd offer it to you first."

I flip to the back page and find a pleasant number next to the word "stipend". "He'd give me two grand a month to fuck me a few times?"

The smile spreads on Remy's face again. "No, Mags," he starts to correct me. "He'd pay you two grand a week."

I almost fall off my damn stool.

_____

A/N: Just a little reminder that this story is not meant to be an instruction manual. Stay in school or whatever.

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