BLACK SNAKE MOANED - Introducing Obama!
I almost felt obligated to pull the filled condom off of the man’s cock and panicked that I might get in trouble if I didn’t before I realized that wasn’t the rules of the backroom.
Things were quite a bit similar to how the Semen Hole was set up and perhaps that was a bit by design. This was obviously Senior’s playroom from back when he had a more active role in the community and the decadent and perverse shows provided a spectacle of fantasy and bondage.
In fact, the “stations” in this room were far removed from what one would expect in a strip club. They would probably just have an elevated stage with some lights, but here it seemed like someone had a BDSM garage sale or something. I later learned from mom that this stuff was all vintage left-overs from the Jacobi farm and when Senior shut it down he modified and installed the stations – putting the tamer ones out in the main room.
The back room was by invite only; and other than a few very stout expressionless bouncers, bursting with muscles under their tuxedo shirts, the regulars here were an eclectic mix of rednecks, hillbillies and garish strippers. The one thing I noticed about them all was they were all white.
I say this because mom’s next show involved a large black boa constrictor that they had named “Obama” for obvious reasons and the reason this is important will become apparent in a moment.
There were only a couple other women working the backroom with us. The midgets and Fabulous Flamingo along with half a dozen other women who sat quietly at the tables of the customers nursing drinks.
Every now and then one of the other dancers would respond to a mumbled command over the microphone and get up and start dancing for the customer. The woman would step out of her clothes completely and take the man’s cock out and then start having sex with him. The customer and his dancer seldom making eye contact or exchanging expression. There was something odd about each of the dancers - they all had some kind of gimmick or shtick. Fabulous Flamingo was beautiful at one time, but now she had incorporated fireworks to appeal to the back room audience – a group of seasoned perverts who weren’t easily shocked obviously.
I noticed a few women flitting around in the back of the room, but it was too dark to see what they were doing. I could tell they were most likely naked.
I also saw a young girl about my age inside a glass tank that was full of water. It would fill all the way to the top and she would suck her chubby cheeks in while she swam naked with her eyes bulging and wide like a fish or mermaid in a fish tank. The tank would slowly empty of enough water for her to surface for air and then fill right back up.
My brother might have used the term “Innsmouth look” to describe her – I don’t know what the reference is to but I recall hearing him say something about a girl who was interested in him last year in school that had a fishy kind of face – her cheeks were puffy like a squirrel. This girl may have been chosen for this station primarily because she too had those chubby cheeks and fishy lips despite her hot, little body.
Customers weren’t allowed to give her tips but it seemed the more tips they set in a bowl near her the longer the interval was before the tank would empty. I couldn’t tell if there was someone manually doing that or there was some weighted contraption behind the tank that made that happen.
I theorized that one reason the club wanted the money never to touch the dancers had to do with legal reasons, but they owned the law around Buckman county. I also thought it was to prevent the girls from stealing before the club took it’s cut, but I also thought it may have to do with safety. You can’t very well protect YOUR money while you are locked inside a fish tank trying to fish-wiggle your narrow ass and keep from drowning.
The fishy dancer looked at me as she swam like a fish darting back and forth with an expression that said “GET ME OUT OF HERE” but she didn’t scream or panic. If she had I suppose she would have drowned immediately.
I probably should have taken one look at that lesser station that existed solely for the amusement of the patrons and hauled ass out of this chamber of horrors. The thought didn’t occur to me in part because I had been drinking. The lights, the music and the intoxication had combined to impair my judgment and thinking, but also there was simply no way I was going to leave my mother.
She had thoroughly impressed me tonight. I don’t mean with her capacity to take donkey dick, although that was certainly extraordinary.
I meant that she impressed me with her ability to endure pain and to undertake any sexual activity no matter how disgusting or bizarre in order to make our lives better. Dad was clearly gone and I had a hard time processing that my father must have run out on us when things became their worst.
Mom had doubled-down on stripping and ended up in the backroom to make money to protect Conner and me; and now she was giving it her all to accelerate all of that. I knew that much was true because the alternative was mom really just got off on all this shit. The way she was smiling and touching this giant snake that she had just placed on her shoulders to walk on stage and dance around with made her seem like a willing extroverted slut – a slut with nice tits. Mom smiled, and if I didn’t know any better I would think she was looking forward to this.
I suppose when you are in dire straits, the way we were, you will do just about anything for the people you love; and I admired her more that moment than I cared to admit. I should have admired her a long time ago this same way because she had always been that way towards my brother and me – I just took it for granted. She had told me she would play act with the best of them to make money and right now I was getting a firsthand demonstration of just how committed my mother was to her word.
Mom danced around the stage while the DJ played a tune that sounded like “Hail to the Chief” and announced it was time to meet Obama.
The locals were definitely conservatives and when they heard the name Obama they immediately began to boo and holler. This was a stark contrast to the rest of the night when they sat impassive and coldly watched all our erotic performances.
Mom had been politically liberal as far as I knew. She seemed to relish their boos and stroked the snake as she danced around in the nude shaking her tits and rubbing the snake around her body.
A bouncer took me by the arm and escorted me still naked to the stage without saying a word. I got on stage and my mother came over and wrapped the snake around me. She seemed hesitant at first because she was waiting for me to freak out. I might have – if I hadn’t had a few tequila shots before the show.
The music volume dropped so that Mom could be heard in the room declaring her undying love for Obama the snake, while clearly talking about the US President that wasn’t particularly popular with the audience. She embellished that he had given her a free phone and wanted to take all the guns from the law abiding citizens to give them to the criminals. I wanted to laugh at how over the top my mom was playing her role, but it seemed to rile up the otherwise silent and stone-faced audience.
The crowd hooted and hollered and she reminded me of a wrestler playing the villain. She was tweaking the crowd as she preened before their wrath with all the self -righteousness of someone who thrived on their attention – negative or not.
“Mommy! No! You’ve fallen under the spell of Obama and Hilary! I bet this is the babysitters fault!” the midget version of me shouted from stage-left. She was standing there naked with her tiny but perky tits jutting out as she pleaded with my mom to stop what she was doing.
I wasn’t sure what to say in this role-play. They were clearly waiting for me to deliver a line so I said, “Don’t ask me? I am a Bernie supporter!”
The crowd went nuts with rage. I suppose I shouldn’t have giggled because that only inspired their ire even more.
“Mommy, Mommy please tell me you don’t love Obama!” the midget Conner pleaded over the boos and guffaws from the audience in disbelief I would have said that.
“You know I do!” Mom handled the snake expertly and it wrapped itself around the length of her nudity as she danced like a Persian belly dancer.
“Why don’t you fuck him then!” Midget Ellen cursed.
“I think I will!” Mom got down on all fours and handed me the snake “Will you feed it to me please? Any hole will be fine.” Mom stated bluntly.
I was shocked – the audience was quiet as they waited for our next move. “You sure, Ma’am?” was all I could think to say as I stood there trying not to drop this heavy snake as it wriggled around on me. It was not something that came easily and required a lot more upper body strength than I was capable of.
“Here, if you want to fuck it so badly then let me fuck you!” Midget Conner was already naked and his dick was hard as a rock. He tried to mount my mom and she held out her hand for Obama.
“Come on then and show me, son – but if you aren’t as good as Obama, then I am going with the snake!” Mom demanded he satisfy her and little Conner obliged by spanking her behind and slipping his dick into her pussy to fuck her. The audience cheered the little man as he hammed things up by pumping his fists and looking excited.
Midget me presented herself to be jealous and bratty. I wondered if she even knew I was my Mom’s actual daughter or if all this mugging for the audience was a happy coincidence to her. She folded her arms and demanded to get fucked too, “If Mommy gets fucked then I do too!” she presented her full-size pussy to the audience and bent over revealing her short little-girl legs to the audience.
I have to admit the full size genitalia on what looked like a little kid’s body was hard to get used to for me – but given what I had seen at the pool I wasn’t entirely surprised.
Midget Conner pretended not to want to fuck her because as he put it, “Then Mommy will go back to fucking the snake!” but after the two of them argued with all the sincerity of a vintage 1970’s porn about a mix-up at the pizza delivery office he was fucking his sister and my mom at the same time in front of an approving audience.
Mom wriggled and gyrated to free herself from Conner after he came on her back.
“Yucky!” Midget-me swooned over her stage brother’s cum while calling it disgusting, pulling her brown hair back to lick it right off the tattoo tramp-stamp on my mother’s back. “You taste good though!” Her tongue seemed abnormally large being full size on her kewpie-pie baby-doll like head.
Mom didn’t waste any time going back to Obama and let the snake writhe around her body and dart his tongue into her pussy. It almost sensed the warm cooze filled with spunk from midget Conner and the Donkey that was flowing out of her bald, spread pussy. She masturbated herself with her long fingers and held herself open for the audience to watch as she guided the snake’s head to the moist, dark, warm place between her legs. It slithered with anticipation as if waiting for more of an invitation, while darting its tongue in front of it to taste the salt and sweat on her thighs.
Mom fingered herself and bid me to join her – to get closer while she worked herself into a sexy, cummy, froth.
I have to admit I was more than a little intimidated of the big Boa constrictor and felt pretty awkward on stage. I tried to help her with it and look sexy but I felt like the awkward teenage girl I really am. She whispered in my ear with a sexy look on her face “It’s okay – it’s easier with you here, don’t be afraid. Obama can sense fear. I was even more ghost-white than you on my first night,” Mom’s tongue flicked in and out of my ear and the base of my neck for the benefit of the audience as she continued “I must dilate my pussy to get him inside – help me, please?”
I was too drunk to make sense of her words but I wondered what exactly she meant by things being easier with me here. I thought it would be quite the opposite and she would be embarrassed that I could see her doing these nasty, naughty things with strangers. I would not have time to puzzle over her words for long.
She put the tip of the snake’s tail into her mouth and then my pussy and smiled at me as if to encourage me to masturbate myself on the snake’s tail. I followed along and honestly it was one of the dirtiest feelings I had felt to date – fucking myself with a reptilian phallus in front of dozens of dirty old men who stared at the show without so much as a peep now.
I felt the smile my mom gave, while she watched, was as fake as the Fabulous Flamingo’s 44DD gazongas. I doubt any of the men noticed or cared one way or the other. I sensed deep in her eyes I could sense she felt sorry for what she was doing, despite what she had told me moments before about this being easier now that I was here.
I offered her a ‘it is okay – go ahead’ look in exchange and let her feel me up while pretending the snake’s scaly back was just someone’s hard cock. I tried hard not to let it creep me out that mom had put the snake’s head almost inside her pussy while it fucked me with its tail. She worked it all the way inside her until there was a polite sort of golf clap acknowledging she had completely absorbed the snake’s head into her vagina. Mom raised her hands once to acknowledge the audience praise before removing Obama’s diamond shaped head once again.
There was a moment afterwards when the snake’s slimy cum-coated head came close to my skin and under the neon lights, still tipsy I freaked out when its tongue lunged out at me and yelped – barely keeping my balance. The audience’s reaction was a surprising laugh – given that they had been frozen for most of the performance and glued to their chairs that was a surprise.
When the show was finally over the announcer said that Obama had to join “Hilary behind bars in prison” the crowd actually cheered. Someone yelled, “Show us the emails!” and mom put the snake back in the cage and walked me naked off the stage in silence.
There was another show in queue already to go on stage to take our place as stage tips were collected from our performance. Mom was already looking for a station for us. “They aren’t all the kind two girls can do together - but maybe I can find one that isn’t completely awful for you,” she whispered in my ear.
I was about to tell her that I’d do whatever she can do when a bouncer came walking over to the side of the stage. The majority of the time these muscle-bound, tuxedo-clad menacing figures said nothing, but this one told us bluntly that I was done with the show – no further explanation. He said in no uncertain terms that mom was assigned to the pear-spreader until the next show and that I would be on the wall, “Skinny’s orders”.
He didn’t have a trace of sympathy and delivered the news of our assignments – he wasn’t the kind of guy who was going to wait around to hear two dancer’s complaints about their assignments.
There was clearly no reasoning with him – I didn’t know what to make of what I just heard but the word pear-spreader definitely didn’t sound easy. I felt a little guilty that I was relieved to be out of the show despite my mom still having to perform.
“I am so sorry honey!” my mom offered her sympathies. That immediately deepened my worry – I thought I should be relieved to be out of this perverted show, but from her reaction it was like I just got from Senior Varsity Cheer Squad on the day before the Homecoming game.
“Why?” I was almost ready to address her as Ma’am out of the habit I’d picked up this week.
“Well, you must feel bad you aren’t going to be a star?” Mom walked me over to the metallic pear-spreader station. I didn’t process what my mom had just said at that moment. I wanted to believe that she meant it sarcastically but she sounded sincere – did she really want to be a “star” in this place?
Booty-music began playing in the background and the DJ announced the next dancer in a mumble that few could understand. I did think I heard him say that her name was “Shannondoah” or “Shadnockers” but it was such a low gravelly mumble I couldn’t tell.
“It’s Shananay, Motherfucker and you know this!” an older black woman in a Tina Turner wig with giant boulder sized tits and an ass to match shook her fist at the unseen DJ booth. She bounded out of the audience area and on to the stage in a white thong style monokini that was stretched so thin it looked like a slingshot that was going to snap at any moment. She corrected the DJ’s pronunciation of her name and ignored the fact that the customers did absolutely nothing when she arrived.
“You know not to put me after the fucking Obama show God damnit! These cracker ass crackers need a little time to cool off. ” she cussed and took a sip from a peach-colored fruity drink before setting it and a small purse on the side of the stage. She wrapped a long well-manicured finger under the chin of an older white man who had come to the stage and told him she didn’t mean him when she called the audience racist, “You one of the good ones – you like cult’cha and refined pussy!” she giggled and smiled like an alligator revealing pearly white teeth.
“Hold on a minute – juss hold your horses now...D.J.! D.J.? Start this song over now, I don’t want to miss my jam! I done waited all night! Wait a minute, dis ain’t even my jam – you better play my jam!” She crooked her neck back and forth in a swivel and raised up one finger to shame the DJ booth, “You needs to play my jam afore I come up there and give you what fo!”
The DJ mumbled a response into the microphone and the woman argued with him that she couldn’t make any money if she doesn’t have the entire song. I couldn’t help but laugh as she chastised him. She had a screechy sort of voice that was tempered with an unusual smoky sexiness from years of working in Nightclubs.
The DJ acquiesced to her demands and not only started the song over but played a different song that she had asked for. It was a fun song that was perfect for shaking your butt to. It sounded familiar but I had never heard it before.
GIVE ME THAT DONKEY BUTT
AND THEM BIG OL' LEGS.
I AINT TOO proud TO BEG.
AINT NO SHAME TO THIS GAME
IMMA BREAK IT DOWN AND BEG LIKE JAmes....
PLEASE
PLEASE
PLEASE
Each time the man rapped “PLEASE” Shananay clapped her booty cheeks in such a way that they fully opened and flapped closed with a kind of precision that I had never seen before. The ass cheeks were massive and she had wasted no time stepping out of her clothes so that the dark line between her ass cleavage provided just a tiny hint of a pink little asshole for the audience.
BEND ON OVER GET BUCK WILD
LET ME DO THAT DONKEY DOGGIE STYLE
GRIP THE HIPS SPREAD YO BUTT CHEEKS
NOW WORK THAT THANG FREAK ROCK IT POP IT
DONT STOP IT. I WANNA KNOCK IT YEAAA.
The dancer could clap her tits the same way she did her ass and despite what seemed like a deeply racist audience from the previous show – they worked their way up one by one to the stage to drop tips at her feet while she smiled at them knowingly – like she was in on a secret that they weren’t.
I was more impressed with how she worked the room. Her very obscene dancing, which at the same time should be humiliating, made it seem like she was in control and perfectly natural dancing this way.
She was folding her body in such a way that her ass came down on the down beat and her tits were moving up at the same time, while simultaneously both were flapping open and closed in synchronicity to expose her most intimate parts. Her bright white teeth and the pink of the inside of her pussy and asshole were accentuated against the dark chocolate of her skin so that in the neon glow of the stage she sometimes looked like a dancing spread pussy with teeth.
I had been so enraptured that I had missed watching my mother bend and shape herself into position on the pear spreader. I looked down to see that she had sat her naked body on a medieval style chair with small metal spikes on the tiny seat. In the center of the chair was the pewter colored ‘pear’, shaped like a smallish football; she had stretched her pussy lips around the entire thing to fully seat herself.
Then she had placed two pewter colored metal cages around her tits, held in place by metal arms that extended down to the base of the chair. They locked around her tits and kept her from wriggling. The same frayed old rope from the other station was used to tie off the tits and then bound between her legs so that two lines ran on either side of her pussy lips, forcing them to puff out against the pewter ball between her legs.
She was putting her hands into wooden and pewter sleeves that kept her arms extended and spread out and away from her chest while asking me to put a gag in her mouth.
I quickly located a similar pewter pear attached to what looked like a flight stick from a plane cockpit between her legs and mother gave me the nod that this was it. The pear had tiny holes all around it that looked ornately jagged. I offered a second look to confirm she was really serious about sealing her mouth the same way she had her pussy. My mom nodded again and held her mouth open as wide as possible, while pulling her tongue backwards expertly for me to snugly fit the entire thing in her mouth and gag her completely. Spit had already begun to form and dribble down my mom’s chin and on to her tits as she breathed in and out through her nose calmly.
“You have to work the wall – it’s at the back of the club. Pick a spot and let whoever is working back there know and they will get you set up – don’t worry about me, Ellen,” Mom said as she held her mouth open wide revealing her wet tongue and well maintained teeth.
I was worried about her and watched as she used something inside the gloved arm bindings to release a lock that automatically flipped metal piping so that she was locked firmly in place. Then working with her knees she began to pump a wooden bellows attached to the flight stick yoke between her legs. She had to open her legs wide and close them and each time it pumped both the gag and the pear spreader in her pussy wider and wider.
I couldn’t stand to watch after three or four times as mom continued to spread herself wider and wider until she was exposing the depths of her pussy with the slider all the way to her pee hole and holding her mouth open obscenely wide for the amusement of nearby patrons – most of whom were watching Shananay’s expert booty clapping on stage.
Mom implored me to get to my station or I would be fined – I could only understand her after a day of wearing gags and cocks down my throat. That had made me aware of how to translate the gurgles and murmurs of a woman with spit dribbling down her tits from having her mouth stuffed with something.
“Mystique reporting in for duty, sir!” I stumbled through the club as men ‘accidentally’ grabbed or pinched my ass in expert ways that looked like they hadn’t moved their hands at all.
A young man with glasses looked up at me from his clipboard and told me he didn’t care about my name. “You work that station,” he pointed over to a section of the club wall that was painted like very fake stonework from a cavern. There were four other girls all bent over at the waist naked with their faces pressed flat to the wall. He walked me over to the station and told me without a trace of sympathy I would be fined for walking around the club naked.
“All the other girls at the station are naked, Sir?” I asked him innocently enough.
“That’s an extra five dollars for arguing,” the man added another check to his clipboard.
“Only five dollars?” I giggled at the absurdity and pettiness of the fine and told him my brother charges me way more than that for talking back. “It’s actually a pretty good deal!”
I thought he may laugh but he only added another checkmark to his clipboard and explained in plain language I was supposed to put on my clothes to travel through the club from a station or stage and then undress once I am about to perform.
I nodded and decided that despite the massive haul from dancing I had earned I probably shouldn’t waste money trying to elicit a smile from this sourpuss.
“Your piss bucket is here, you put your hands behind your back and spread your ass cheeks and get your mouth open here,” he explained as if this should be self-explanatory.
“The other girls don’t have their ass cheeks spread, sir?” I observed before realizing with a hiss of air out of my lips that he had just docked me again on his silly little clipboard.
“Those girls are being fined for that – do you want to be fined for that or do you want to worry about your own business?” the young man said with the kind of charisma one associates with analytical accountants or IRS auditors.
I asked him to position me how he wanted and despite his apprehension towards touching me he obliged by bending my hips so that I stuck my butt out far enough anyone walking by could slap it. I held my ass cheeks apart and heard him position a piss bucket under my legs. “If you drip piss all over the floor that will be a fine,”
“Am I supposed to pee? Is this how the wall works?” I had come so far as a dirty little slut I assumed naturally that the goal here may be the men give us water on one side of the wall and we piss it out on the other side for their amusement.
I noticed with a slight bit of amusement a sign hung near my hole in the wall, “We will donate for every dick you suck – and the name of a charity below that.
“Gross!” my new clipboard boss didn’t see how that would be sexy at all. “No, men pay to walk through the grotto. That’s all they do – pay to walk through the grotto. You put your mouth on the hole and if they happen to stick their dicks in your mouth then you suck and suck and you swallow.”
“I see, Sir,” I started to get a very dirty feeling in my stomach as I learned how this station worked. “So what is the pee bucket for then Sir?”
He sighed before he explained that it was to pee in. “You don’t get breaks on the wall. Your lunch is provided by the customers so in order to increase production you piss in your own bucket if you have to go. We had a problem with certain girls in the past who would take long breaks in the bathroom.”
My new spectacled tormentor spoke loud enough for a blonde girl who was nearby on the wall to hear. She turned to look at him and roll her eyes and he quickly made two checks on the clipboard even though she turned around.
“Are we going to have a problem here or are you going to be compliant?” he spoke like someone who was not from Buckman County – with a quiet intelligence. He reminded me of my brother in a way and that made me feel strangely like I could trust him.
I nodded and put my lips against the wall. There was a hole that had grooves big enough for me to wrap my lips around the hole making it easier to keep them in place as I waited patiently with hands on my ass with my cheeks spread so my pussy and the pink rose of my ass hole were expos.
Time started to lose all meaning to me and I became impatient and bored. I worried at first I would be sucking dick constantly. I had sucked off an entire busload of teenage boys this afternoon with the other girls and thought I could be repeating that experience or worse.
The waiting was actually what was worse. The constant feeling that someone was watching me. The sounds of laughter and the din of the glasses clinking as show after show started and began in the background and I couldn’t watch or turn around.
Every now and then a man would pay to walk into the grotto. It looked like it had been part of a ‘tunnel of love’ ride on a county fair midway at one time. He would try each girl by sticking his dick into her mouth or go straight to the woman he had chosen before he laid his money down. I was actually excited and turned on the six or seven times someone chose me and gave what I thought was one of the best, wettest blowjobs I knew how to give, more out of appreciation that they picked me than any sort of feeling of obligation for whatever money I was earning.
I wasn’t even sure how the money worked here – I would soon learn that we all split the take by the hour evenly – after fines this sometimes left us owing money. The fact that there was splash back the first time I let go with a hot stream of piss into the bucket beneath me, had cost me 25 dollars and left my ankles wet with steamy girl pee.
I was just glad I didn’t have any shit left in my ass after this afternoon’s exercise on the front lawn of my Aunt’s house. That would have been extremely embarrassing – I didn’t even ask if that was expected as well for fear the answer was “Of course, it is.” after placing another checkmark next to my name.
I heard my mother’s stage name at least three more times that night over the loud speaker. I could finally start to understand the DJ’s incoherent jibberings and distinctly heard him say, “Babydoll and Big Mike”.
I knew my mom fucked the donkey at least one more time before closing, but I was left wondering what she did on the other two shows. My mind raced with speculation about her show as I semi-anonymously provided oral pleasures to a man on the other side of the wall.
I say semi-anonymous because he could definitely see me before he walked in. The men would look us up and down and I could feel their hot, stinky breath on the back of my neck and as close to my pussy as the clipboard manager would allow. I was surprised in a way that he had any rules or limits on our use at all; and I probably wouldn’t have stopped them if they’d mounted me or even stuck a finger in my pussy. I suppose the limits made it more likely they would pay for a blowjob when they could do far more obscenely provocative things to us.
I couldn’t see the men at all. I guessed if they were old or young, fat or skinny, white, black or Mexican from the smell, taste and size of their cock, but also from how long they could last before shooting sperm down my throat.
I noticed how different some men tasted and the consistency of their cum. Some of them had very fluid cum, almost like a white fluid, and others had a thick paste dotted with solid pebbles and flecks of cum. There wasn’t much of an option to spit while your mouth was being held wide open on the wall – you were going to swallow, and as hungry as I was this wasn’t actually entirely a bad thing. My body needed protein and I was going to make the best of the situation.
I suppose it was easier to call it protein then being a “Cum goblin” and “Gobbling up all the cum like a dumpster slut – which is what Ted would have called it. I grinned picturing him saying those words and found myself slightly embarrassed and slightly wet that I smiled.
Gobbling man goo until the wee hours of the night stretched on and on – time after time I gave head to strangers who paid about as much as I had been fined for the right to do anything they wanted in my mouth. I think one guy even flicked an ash from his cigarette into my mouth – whether it was intentional or not, at least it didn’t burn me.
By the end of the night I could understand the D.J fully on the microphone. I don’t know if it is like one of those 3-D puzzles where the longer you stare at it the more likely your brain automatically begins to see the shape or he just spoke more clearly but I clearly heard him tell the audience “You don’t gotta go home – but you can’t stay here,” and after a short pause told them “Here come the ugly lights!” and with a flick of a switch and audible groan from customer and dancer alike, the room was brightly lit.
The sobering effect spoiled the illusion for all parties as the women quickly scurried into the dressing room. The blonde who had worked next to me patted me on the back. I smiled at her, thankful that she took the time to remind me that the shift was over even though it was obvious.
She looked at me like I was an idiot with the kind of sarcastic look I expected from Savannah and pointed to my piss bucket, “It ain’t gonna empty itself”. I had to lug the bucket – which seemed to be much heavier than I expected into the women’s bathroom, with it sloshing all the way until I got to the stool and emptied it out. I washed it out in the sink and sought out my mom. I just wanted a shower and to go home – I ached all over and I was genuinely exhausted.
Mom was waiting for me and putting her collar back on as she stepped out of her stripper clothes. “There is no point getting dressed – your brother will expect us naked when we leave the parking lot,” she stated plainly and told me we had to just wait for the pay-out next.
“Oh great!” I snapped my collar back on and having lost my clothes much earlier in the night was already dressed to go home – I was about to make a joke about it when my mom snapped me a dirty look.
“It’s not great – but you will see.”
Skinny the manager was flanked by the House Mother and the younger man with glasses who had watched me all night. He was moving around from dancer to dancer and paying them out – some of whom were severely disappointed and going home with nothing.
“Them’s the breaks, Shanaynay,” Skinny smirked at the black woman. She had removed her straight wig to reveal nappier, shorter hair and in this light didn’t look nearly as glamorous as she had with all the eye makeup and stage lighting.
“I got eight kids at home, you want to tell me how I gonna feed them if I can’t make no money working back room?” Shanaynay challenged Skinny.
“You ain’t got no food? Well shit, I thought Obama was going to send you some food stamps or something,” Skinny chuckled.
“Fuck you, Skinny! I babysat your nappy ass when you were a baby and now you talk to me like this? I take bigger shits than you in the morning, boy! If you don’t come up off some of that money I am going to put my heel straight up yo’ ass!”
“Tell you what,” Skinny showed no signs of intimidation “You can take home some steaks from the kitchen that were fixin to go bad anyway.”
“Fuck yo’ Steaks, Skinny! I cain’t pay mah bills with no steaks! You think I can call the power company and tell them I am gonna be late but I’ll send steaks? You cracker ass cracker!” Shanaynay was livid.
Skinny didn’t take the bait, “You can work with these two fine little ladies down at the Seminole pool if you ain’t making enough money here,” he waved his hands over to us as we waited for our cut.
“What money? I ain’t make no damned money! And don’t you laugh Mark!” Shanaynay addressed the younger guy in glasses who had the clipboard at the wall. “You be writing and checking and checking and writing and that shit cost me five dollahs here and five dollahs there – you bitch ass gonna be wearing that clipboard up yo’ ass!”
“Tell you what,” Skinny took a stack of hundred dollar bills out of his pocket and pressed two hundred dollars into her hand.
“I ain’t want yo’ stank ass charity!” the dancer wasn’t giving the money back – in fact she was putting it away already even though she was saying she didn’t want it.
“I know that,” Skinny nodded that it was just a loan. “I know you are good for it – we are gonna put that on your tab,” Skinny nodded at Mark who wrote something on a piece of paper, “And you can pay it back when you get the money for it.”
“You know I good for it, Skinny” she waved him closer so she could give him a kiss – making sure to get her bright red lipstick on his face – her tone quickly changed to one of thankfulness as she got dressed.
I noticed Candy gingerly walking past me and start getting dressed at her locker. She didn’t say anything but she seemed to think I was going to attack her. I almost didn’t remember she had pushed me and started a fight that sent me to the back room in the first place. I decided I would deal with her later after we got paid out and away from this forsaken, disgusting place.
“The mother and daughter team,” Skinny turned his attention towards us and looked us up and down. “You look good even in the light,” he said as if that were a compliment and I suppose it was of sorts.
“You two work down at the Seminole pool, huh?” Mark pushed his glasses back on his face and seemed impressed. “I saw you out there the other day, I think when I drove past.” I realized in the light the skinny lad probably wasn’t older than 19.
“Mark, you can make goo-goo eyes with the new girl tomorrow,” Skinny cut him off and asked how much we owed.
“Owe?” I blurted out in disbelief – the sudden realization that I wasted my entire night to actually walk out of here with LESS money was beginning to dawn on me.
“You got start up costs, darling!” he had Mark start listing off itemization of all the dancing clothes I bought from Woody and the prices before he cut him off and told him that was enough for me to get the impression.
“I lost all those! Someone stole them after I got beat up!” I demanded in a huff. I had played the meek girl for two long – it was time now to bring out the rich-bitch I pretended to be during the day. I think seeing Shanaynay made it seem much more possible to push back but I was genuinely mad and not pretending.
“You want to hold us responsible for you losing shit?” Skinny chuckled and pointed out my bar tab. “Seeing as you are under 21 and it’s a crime in the county of Buckman for a minor to drink – you are lucky you aren’t behind bars,” he seemed cocksure that would shut me up.
“Your bar is the one that served me! The minor doesn’t go to jail – it’s the bartender who provides it. You lose your liquor license!” I was just guessing how the law works on this matter and the bluff didn’t work.
“Well, you could make your case to Fat-boy and we could see who spends the night in jail if you want to,” Skinny stroked his blondeish beard and told me to let them calculate that against our earnings.
Mark spat out some numbers rapidly and then came to the conclusion that I owed 900 dollars after all was said and done against my earnings. All that work and I had to PAY THEM for the privilege?
“Fine, how much does my mom owe?” I asked as my anger began to seethe. How could they expect us to work there night after night going further and further in the hole?
I wasn’t buying the whole “You’d just drink it away or give it to a man,” argument – but having met some of the strippers that wasn’t too far from the truth. I was still furious that I wasted all that effort and determined to prove a point since I had the money to get out of debt.
“Shit,” Skinny chuckled and my mom shook her head at me not to go there. “Mark, how much does Babydoll owe the club?” he obliged me with an answer.
“After tonight’s show she owes 3,900 dollars and with five more nights like this one she should break even!” Mark threw that estimate in there I think to give my mother hope that she could turn things around.
“And Candy? What does she owe?” I pointed at Candy who was cringing while squatting on the floor to put on her bathing suit. She seemed just as surprised as everyone else that I asked.
“She owes about 1,900,” Mark told me and when I said I wanted the exact amount, he clarified that it was “1,934 and 35 cents.”
“Hell, I’ll even knock off the thirty five cents if you want to pay in full tonight?” Skinny laughed knowing we didn’t have that money.
“That is exactly what I plan to do,” I took my mother’s hand and led her out through the front door of the bar to the parking lot where I saw O.J.’s truck waiting for us.
The parking lot was almost empty – the cool night air was refreshing and the stores around the area were all closed. I didn’t hesitate at all as I marched over to the truck completely naked in the parking lot.
Shanaynay was getting into a white Cadillac fully dressed. She looked like any conservative, black woman once she was fully dressed. I could see her daughters Laqwanda and Clymydia in the back with several other black people. “Girl, you better get dressed! You white people caint be walking around this hurr perkin’ lot all with your titties hanging out and what not. You see they be kids in this hurr car!”
She put her hands over a black boy’s eyes that had an afro and was about Conner’s age’s. He yelped, “Oh Mama, It ain’t nothing I ain’t never seen buff-four!”
“That may well be, but you ain’t looking out at it from my nice Cadillac! Deeze Girls is Nastay!” I heard her complain and swivel her head back and forth disapprovingly just like her daughters as she pressed the button to automatically roll up her tinted windows in the backseat and they drove off. I almost laughed at the absurdity of a stripper who just coordinated her ass-clapping with her tit bouncing on stage finding someone else indecent – but by comparison my mother and I had fucked actual donkeys and snakes on stage so point well made. Her daughters were laughing at us as well – but they gave me a knowing look because they had seen us down at the pool all afternoon.
It was just starting to dawn on me the true depravity of what I had done – but I kept smiling and Shanaynay’s comically animated exit only made it that much easier.
“Conner, I need the money I made so far,” I demanded without watching my words. I instantly regretted it but I was slightly worried after getting the shaft at the club that somehow Ted or Odd-Jobs would have managed to find a way to fine me.
I was pleasantly surprised when without hesitation Conner pulled out a stack of hundred dollar bills and began counting it out for me. He looked at me skeptically but handed me my money without asking what I needed it for.
“All of it? And you need to call me Sir!” he reminded me quietly as he put all of my earnings in my hand. It felt heavy – and that felt gratifying in a way I really needed at that moment.
“All of it, Sir!” I obliged him and with a curtsy took the money in hand and quickly paid Skinny every dime the three of us owed that forsaken nightclub.