“Yes, Mr. Twining.” She blinked her eyes at me as seductively as she could. I felt her ni**les brushing against my arm as she tried to flirt with me. “Would you like anything else?”
“No.” I shook my head and made eye contact with her. “Do you like it here?”
“Yes, I love it Mr. Greyson.” She nodded eagerly, and I could see adoration in her eyes.
“It’s Twining.”
“I meant Mr. Twining.” She blushed then, and I could see the terror in her eyes. She was afraid of me. That upset me. I didn’t want the girls to be afraid of me. There was nothing to be afraid of. I’d never hurt any of them. Or slept with them. Aside from Patsy, and that had been a mistake. That wasn’t to say I was a monk. I had plenty of women. Just women I picked up from outside.
“How old are you, Denise?”
“Twenty, sir.”
“Should you be serving alcohol?”
“Don’t know.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter though. I’ve been drinking since I was 12.”
“Do you have sex at the club?” I wasn’t sure why I asked the question. I’d never really cared about the girls before or who they were or what they did. They just had to look good, dance well, have a pretty or sexy smile, and be up for the job.
“I’ve had sex with some men, sir.” She tried to smile, but it never reached her eyes. “It paid very well.”
“Did you enjoy it?” For some reason, her answer was extremely important to me. I’d always been of the thought that women thought of sex like men did. It was fun and it felt good, and it was a bonus if they got a little something out of it.
“It was fine.” She looked at the ground and took a step back. I frowned as I stared at her. She didn’t look like a woman who was happy with the perks of the job.
“I see. Go and get the whiskeys now.”
“Yes, Greyson.” She hurried away fast and I went and sat back down with Brandon.
“Do you think the girls like their jobs here?” I asked him casually. He looked up at me in surprise.
“Who knows?” He shrugged. “I’m sure some do.”
“Not all though?”
“Who really wants to be a slut or a whore?”
“They’re not sluts and whores.” I felt annoyed at his choice of words.
“Greyson, half of these girls are on drugs and alcohol so they can sleep with some of these slobs.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, I don’t think most of them actually enjoy working here. But we don’t care, right?”
“Yeah. We didn’t force any of these girls to take the job.”
“They got lucky getting a job here,” Brandon continued. “Half of these girls don’t have any skills. What are they going to do? Most of them were getting high before they even got here. Most were probably sleeping with bums in the street for twenty bucks. We’re helping them change their lives.”
“Are we really?” We stared at each other for a moment and I knew that we were both feeling as much doubt as each other.
“We can’t change it now, Greyson. We’re in too deep.”
I changed the subject. “What you going to do about, Maria?”
“I’ll take care of her.” He sighed. “I’ll shut her up. Make sure she doesn’t go spouting her mouth off anymore.”
“Good. We don’t need her making any trouble.”
***
“Hi, want a dance?” A cute tan girl with dark brown curly hair approached me as soon as I entered the deviants room. The deviants room was dark and private. Only men at the highest level of the club were allowed to enter. There were about twenty girls who worked in the deviants room and they all knew that anything went.
“No, I’m okay.” I shook my head and continued walking.
“But I’d love to show you a good time.” She reached out for my arm and I stopped.
“What’s your name?”
“Janice.”
“Nice to meet you, Janice.”
“It would be nicer if you let me give you a dance.”
I stared at her for a moment, at her sweet impish smile, and realized that she must not know who I was. As the thought struck me, I smiled. “Sure, why not.”
Janice grinned, grabbed my hand, and pulled me to the side of the room to a black leather couch. “Would you like any particular music?”
“No. Surprise me.”
I sat back and concentrated on her, trying to stop myself from looking at what was happening elsewhere in the room, though it was hard. I could hear the sound of the sex swing as it moved back and forth and tried to make a mental note to get someone to come in and oil it. I wondered who was on it and smiled. I knew the sex swing had been a good investment. Who didn’t like finding new ways to have sex?
“I’m a sexy, sexy bitch.” Janice sang out to me and I watched as she started swinging her hips as she bent down to turn on some music. Her ass was sticking in the air for all to see, with only a small black thong. She was wearing some sort of cowgirl covering on top, and it had long leather tassel but it did a good job of accentuating her large br**sts.
She stood up and walked towards me like a model on a catwalk as the music started playing. Her confidence surprised me as she sat in my lap and started her slow dance to a Boyz II Men song. She pushed my chest back so that I was sitting back in the chair and slowly undid her top. She rubbed her ni**les in my face as she threw it on the floor, and she started groaning.
“You make me so horny,” she whispered into my ear as she ground her ass into my lap.
I started to feel uncomfortable at the spectacle she was making of herself. Is this how she acted every night? It just seemed so fake, and I wasn’t feeling turned on at all. I was glad that she didn’t know who I was and she was showing me how she treated the patrons of the club. This behavior was not acceptable for the private club. It was too fake and artificial. This might be okay for a cheap dance at a strip club located at a seedy part of town, but it was not okay for an exclusive club.
“Janice, I need to go...” I started to get up and she pushed me back down.
“But, Mr. Twining, I wanted to thank you for being so nice to my friend Maria.”
I looked up at her in surprise. “What?”
“I know that Brandon used her, treated her for a f**king fool. But she said you were nice. You made her feel like she was more than just a piece of meat.”