I changed into the red costume I had been wearing and hoped nobody would recognise me.

Debbie and Annette came into the room with money stashed everywhere. They told me what a great job I had done. Debbie hugged me. "Are you okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah..." I smiled at her. "But I don't want to do it again."

She touched my face and said, "The first time is always the worst."

Not wanting to get into it, I headed back onto the floor.

I expected Adam to be gone, but he was in the booth seat with the woman he was with. She was climbing from his lap. I caught his eye as I passed and noticed his hand on her backside. I wanted to throw something at him and wished he would leave. She had a great body and legs but looked like a cheap slut to me. Her face was covered with heavy makeup, false lashes and thick lipstick. I told myself, what did my opinion matter? I figured he'd hurt her the same way he had hurt me.

The truth was, I was jealous. I focused on clearing the tables. Men ran their hands up my arms or touched my backside as I leaned or reached around them. I decided nobody seemed to recognise me as one of the strippers because the contact hadn't got any worse.

As I passed Adam's table, the man I had flirted with grabbed my arm. "How about you get rid of some of these empties?" I glanced at him. His behaviour told me he hadn't recognised me, so I picked up a glass.

Adam brushed the woman aside as she attempted to kiss him. He leaned forward when I lifted another empty glass. I kept my eyes on what I was doing to avoid him.

The woman said. "What! Stop staring at her."

He ignored her; his lip lifted in a scornful smile, and then he laughed, grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards him so I had to lean over the corner of the table. I dropped the glass, it rolled and then stopped when it hit another. He shoved two fifty-dollar bills into my top, yanked his head and sneered, "How much does a whore charge for a head job nowadays?"

He was hurting my wrist. I tried to yank it free. He smirked at me. The other men laughed. One put his hand on my backside and said, "She has a nice arse. I like a woman with curves."

I shoved his arm away with my free hand and tugged against Adam's hold. The other man shoved fifty dollars in my shirt and sniggered, "I could go for a blow job. How about a group discount?"

Adam laughed and gripped me tighter. "I'd prefer to fuck her. How about it? How much to fuck that pretty little arse?"

I gasped, I couldn't believe he was doing this to me, and then the man who had touched me said, "Oh yeah...I see where you're coming from." He put his hand on my bum again.

I jerked away; tears spilt over my lashes. I tugged the money from my top, threw it on the table and yanked against his hold.

Adam mocked, "Ah...look at that. She's crying." He gripped my face, sorrow in his eyes and said, "Maybe you're in the wrong profession, sweetheart." Then he let me go and leaned back.

My head throbbed. I picked up the nearest drink and was about to throw it at him when one of the bouncers stopped me.

"What's going on here?"

Adam folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head. "Good question."

The woman smirked as she snuggled against him. The others laughed. Adam stared at me. I clenched my teeth, headed into the staff room, locked myself in the toilet cubicle and fought to control my emotions. I hated him for doing that. He had played me on purpose to prove I didn't have what it takes to do what I was doing. I wanted to go home, but I had two more hours left on my shift. I washed my face and went back onto the floor. He was by himself. The woman who'd been all over him and the man I had flirted with were nowhere in sight. I assumed they had gone to the toilets. After half an hour, they hadn't returned.

I pushed through the crowd to clear more glasses when Adam caught my arm and steered me into a darkened corner. "Did you enjoy that?"

I slapped him across the face. He gritted his teeth and stared at me. "I asked you a question. Do you like men pawing you? Wanting to fuck you and sticking their hands where you don't want them."

I hit him again.

He gripped my wrists, forced me against the wall and growled, "I'm getting sick of you hitting me."

A multitude of emotions surged through me. I yelled, "Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Sorry...can't do that when I see you doing dickhead things."

Tears trailed down my face.

His voice softened. "I'm sorry I did that to you, honey, but with so many sick pricks around, one day you'll pick the wrong man."

I murmured, "I already did that."

"Jasmine," he sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry for what happened, but it's not what you think."

"Yeah, it was never what I thought that mattered. Now leave me alone. I have to go and dance." For some reason, I laughed. "Your girlfriend must be waiting for you."

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Just some poor stupid bitch you picked up to fuck. Is that right?" I laughed again, yanked my wrists from his grasp and strode away.

Robert met me in the kitchen with a stack of glasses. "You gonna dance this last set?"

I sucked in a breath and nodded.

"Are you gonna strip? I need you for this last session," he pleaded. "I won't ask you again. I'll work something else out until Cherie can come back."

I was going to say no, but Adam hated what I was doing, so I said yes. Robert grinned from ear to ear.

I passed his table on my way to the dressing room. Adam was sitting with his two remaining friends. I wondered what had happened to the woman and the other man.

I asked Debbie if we could swap sides to avoid him.

"Yeah, great idea." She touched my face and smiled. "Stay for the money this time. Don't bolt like you did last time." Debbie fiddled with her bra and hooked her veil over her face as she said, "I made a thousand bucks one night on tips from doing this. It helped pay for my little guy to go to a specialist."

"You have a son?" I gasped, shocked because her body had no signs of being pregnant.

"Yeah. He's four and had a dislocated hip that caused other problems." Debbie touched my face again. "I don't do this because I love it. I do it for him, to give him the best I can. I pretend I'm at home in front of my mirror to get through it every night. It doesn't make me a bad person." She smiled at me again. "We're not the cheap whores or sluts that people assume we are, Jasmine. We're just people doing a job. Okay."

I hugged her. She understood how I felt, and telling me her story was her way of helping me get through it. "Thanks," I whispered.

Wow, I'm not sure I like Adam very much.  He's being a real prick.

Photo copyright - The Telegraph