Daisy has been a stripper all of her life against her wishes. With an annoyingly genius brother to take care of, she is ready to do whatever it takes to give him the life he deserves and he wants the same for her. He goes to the point of credit card...
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DAISY
Past
"Own the club, baby," Bobby said. "Live in the fucking box and make it your own until you find a solution." So that's what I did.
I became friends with a girl named Candy. Her real name was Hailey. She was here willingly because her brother was a piece of shit and tried to force himself on her. She ran away and Zane found her working at a diner, barely able to make ends meet. And we became friends because a fight broke out between the girls backstage. Bobby was there to stop it but I was there to pull Candy back before she got caught by Marcelo.
Being caught by Marcelo meant being closed inside a fucking steel coffin with three holes for a day. I've heard stories from Bobby and it made me shudder.
"Thanks for what you did there for me." Candy smiles. I smiled back, "I still think that girl was in the wrong to steal your bra gems." Candy rolls her eyes, "That bitch!" She takes out a cigarette and lights it up between her lips.
We were sitting outside the back door of the club, Candy needed some air and I wanted company. She sat in this red-gem bra and jeans shorts that had become her signature look in the past week. Men went crazy. And throwing in the leather thigh-high boots, she earned the most in the club. She fixes the oversized hoodie she threw on before we sat outside. I hated sitting in the plastic chair all dolled up with no panties, but I pretended it didn't bother me.
Bobby helped me put Kevin back in school and I was glad that he wasn't here at this time while I served liquor and let Zane's men have a glance between the legs.
She asks, "You're that new girl, aren't you?" I looked down at my lap, letting my silence be my answer. But she continues, "You're the talk between the girls. They're threatened." My head shot up, "Me?" She nods, exhaling the smoke, "Yeah, Zane has a liking to you. And when Zane Black likes something, they're his no matter what."
"Does that include showing my junk to get his contract signed by other males?" Her brows furrow at that until I lift my dress, showing my pelvis and the lack of underwear. She grimaces, "That's fucked up." I nod. Gathering up the courage, I ask, "How do you make money?" She answers without thinking, "By making men cum with my hips or letting them peek at my boobs." She glances at my chest, "Bet you'll get a lot for those."
"I wanna make money too."
"Zane doesn't pay you?"
"Not yet. But I want money. I—"
I refrained from telling her about Kevin but she knows, "You're the older sister of that boy, right?"
"You know?"
"Of course, I know. He stole my sandwich from the locker room two days ago."
I cringe, "I'm sorry." She chuckles, "Don't be. He was hungry. And I think he was adorable." I nod, "As I was saying, I wanna make money too. I need to make money for him." She takes a long drag of her cigarette, "Pole dancers make the most money. Grinders make double. There are two categories in this club. Pole dancing duty and grinding duty. Pole dancing is the easiest. You flash your boobs and you're done. Grinding— that's the worst one. You're locked in a room for how many minutes the man wants. The maximum allowed minutes are thirty." Her brown eyes are cautious, "A lot can happen in thirty minutes if you're not careful enough. As long as you make them cum and don't let them get frustrated, they're easy to handle. You need to learn how to put your hips to good use." Then she adds after she throws the cigarette on the ground and puts it out with her boot, "Grinders get to set rules. If the men don't abide, Zane's men won't go easy on them."
