Chapter 2: Aroused

Carla

“Get the fuck out of my establishment!”

Those words won’t leave my head. It sounds like a death sentence, and if I don’t do as he says, I might as well say goodbye to my brother’s recovery. I don’t imagine myself being jobless right now.

“Y…yes, boss…”

Before the words can escape my lips, I’m already at the door, trembling from fright.

I don’t know if it’s because of the unknown VIP behind this door, or the scary entity behind me that scares me the most.

“Calm down, Carla. Calm down. You can dance and walk away. No one will force you. The boss will make sure of that, right?”

I mumble shakily, trying to convince myself.

[Knock!]

[Knock!!]

Before the third knock, the door clicks open.

I want to look back, but I know I cannot lock gazes with the boss. With a heavy heart, I step into the private room - my stilettos clicking loudly against the luxurious tiled floor.

“WOOW! This place is huge…” I cannot find the words to describe the room. Even though it’s dimly lit, I can make out the expensive items.

Toss a random item at me, and I might just retire as a stripper and get the fuck out of this country.

The clicking of the automatic door brings me back to my senses, and I spot a man sitting across from me.

He spreads his hands at the edge of the enormous sofa, his hawk-like gaze fixed on me.

Gosh! He looks like a Greek god! Men should not look this beautiful, should they?

“H…ello… I’m Seven. It’s a pleasure to serve you tonight.” I recover my wits and recite the opening lines with a bitter taste.

Before I can recover from the shock of his looks, the music starts, and I know I need to get to business. I guess he doesn’t talk much.

I grab onto the pole without making eye contact with him - yet, I feel his gaze follow my every movement.

The chilly air-conditioning makes the pole equally chilly, but I just grit my teeth and start dancing, goosebumps forming on my body. I hope this is over soon enough, so I can get the heck out of here. I feel so cold.

I put in all my effort, twisting and turning on the pole, unleashing every secret move I know, secretly hoping I do not piss off this king. Finally, the music’s over, and I end my performance with a bang.

“Don’t move.”

What? He wants me to stay like this? He wants my left leg wound around the pole and my right leg resting above my head. My most intimate part is on display most embarrassingly.

I grip the pole, so I don’t lose my balance. Meanwhile, as I keep still, waiting for him to give the command to move, I hear the most dreadful sound ever…

[Tzzzzzz]

No!!!

The zipper of my dress opens suddenly, and my eyes go wide, my body trembling as if I have seen a ghost. My pussy is on full display, and I’m scared out of my wits. Why the heck did they design these clothes so that we can’t wear panties under them? Just why?

Shame consumes my whole body, but I can only remain in position, sending the wrong signal. My body is trembling from fright, and I pray he tells me to fuck off.

The chilly air blowing against my pussy makes me feel a strange sensation I don’t understand. And his gaze…

When I notice the twinkle in his eyes, my blood runs cold, and I know it’s over.

As a stripper, Velvet Steam ensures that all our skimpy dresses strangely have zippers between the thighs. That place covers the stripper’s pussy, and opening it only means that you are willingly offering your body to the client.

Interested clients pay for the stripper’s services and get down to business. Meanwhile, the disinterested ones only feign ignorance as if they didn’t see a thing.

I don’t know what type he’s going to be, but I hope he’s not the former. He hasn’t flinched since I started dancing, so I know he would just ask me to leave…

“Come. I want a lap dance.”

I finally let go of the pole, balancing myself with difficulty, wobbling toward him as if learning to walk for the first time.

It is not until I get to his seat that I realize he has already loosened his belt, and there is absolutely nothing I can do but proceed. My heart is in my mouth.

Am I going to lose my virginity like this? Should I just explain that it’s all a misunderstanding and get out of here? No. What if the boss is still at the door? What would become of me if I don’t…

“Ah!” My body slams into his as he pulls me onto his thighs. I don’t get to position myself properly, nor take in the situation before I feel his hands…

“Mmmhhmm! Fuck!”

Did I just moan? Why would he…

“Aaahh!” He… runs his chilly hands across the lips of my pussy, parting them widely, as his middle finger carelessly grazes my pink bud that’s already erect. It should be because of the cold.

How did I become like this? I’m supposed to be resisting his touch, but why does…

“Aaahh… Mmmhhmm!”

So good. It feels so good. Jolts of electricity run through my body, and I don’t know why… But I want more.

More of his touch. I want to feel his fingers, exploring my virgin cunt further. Deeper. Harder. I want him to invade me and claim me in the fiercest way possible.

“Aaahhh”

I release another embarrassing moan, arching my back and spreading my legs wider, so he could have access to my pussy.

I wish I could hold him, even if it’s for only a moment, but the rules are against it.

Unless the client asks for it, he will explore my body anyhow he wants, but I don’t dare touch him. No matter how frustrated I’m feeling right now, I cannot touch him. What is this feeling?

Why did he stop? I can’t read his expressions because my back is towards him. But how is he doing this to me?

My pussy drips, aches, even, and every fibre of my body itches for his touch. What’s happening to me?

“Aahhhh”

He slides his index finger into my cunt, and the feeling is magical. When I want to relish in it, he pulls out slowly and whispers into my ear,

“My lap dance, little fox.”

“Mmmhm!!!”

I can feel his breath tickling my neck, and I’m confused even further. But one thing I know is that I must do whatever he says. That’s the only way he’ll explore my body further.

“You want me to touch you?“

Sensing my frustration, he asks as if it’s the most natural thing to say. Like a starved slut, I bob my head up and down, agreeing that I crave his touch.

Instead of a soft touch, I feel a hard spank on my butt.

“Ouch!”

It hurts. But I haven’t done anything. Why did he hit me like that? It’s as if he can read my mind because he speaks once more,

“You open your mouth and speak when I ask you a question.”

[Pa!!!]

Another harsh sound fills the room as he hits the same spot as earlier. It’s as if he calculated everything and landed the second hit in the same place when I nodded the second time.

“Aah!” I scream, jolting from his thighs.

However, I just erred. He didn’t tell me to get up. It’s not my fault that I’m feeling emotions so foreign to my body, and then he inflicts such pain on me. I even feel like begging this Greek god to fuck me.

If he doesn’t forgive me for this impulsive act, I might just end up like that stripper found in the gutter, losing my life.

“Sir, I’m...”

I’m surprised to see him reduce the air-conditioning further, making the room more chilly.

Since I’m facing it directly, the cold air assaults me mercilessly. Thinking it’s my punishment, I want to apologize again, only to hear him speak with a coldness I have never heard before...

“Get out!”