#jake jensen

Just as you were about to leave, looking down at your battered, red hands from pounding on the door, your purse dropped out of a window; the contents spilled onto the grass below. With a sigh, either sadness or relief; you weren't sure which, you bent to pick up your scattered belongings, cursing the man during. 

Luckily, you had everything you needed; cash, ID, and your shitty, overused phone. 

You called around for a cab, numb fingers shaking as you pressed the blurry numbers, but with it being Friday night, you were looking at a long wait so instead, you decided to cut your losses and walk to find the nearest hotel. 

The downside of moving, and being essentially trapped within the same four walls for months on end, is that you quickly found yourself lost– and being lost on Skid Row was the last place you wanted to be. You willed your tears to not fall after you walked by tent after tent, stranger after stranger, clutching your purse tight, old keys spread between your fingers, and finally found yourself outside a rundown hotel.  You laughed to yourself in disbelief of having to head inside and get a room; but nonetheless, you did just that. 

Lying on a dingy bedspread, surrounded by more nicotine-stained walls, you muffled your cries behind your hands and slowly fell into a somber slumber and wondered just how the fuck you had gotten yourself here. 

Over the next few days, you walked around, getting to know your surroundings and applying for jobs left and right. You were forced to ration your food while you looked around for cheaper hotel rooms. You were trying your hardest to avoid the sprawls of clubs begging for dancers but after finding yourself downtrodden as you’re dismissed after applying for yet another job and getting immediately dismissed, and it was then when you were suddenly blinded by a huge, purple neon sign:

Pete’s Place.

Underneath a small notice hung from the sign read: Dancers Apply Within. 

You looked around and whined quietly while you watched patron after patron enter the club. Two heavily built doormen eyed you. You shook out your bundling nerves, hung your head and followed the thump of the bass into the belly of the seedy club. You handed over your last twenty bucks to the red-head woman that was sitting behind a platformed desk, smiling sheepishly and giving a small nod before pushing through the curtains that framed a doorway. Purple and blue hues guided you into the belly of the club where you found red booths filled with drunk bodies that circled small stages. Girls with perfect form swirled around the pole, capturing the attention of everyone inside. 

‘’And who might you be?’’

You turned to find a man staring intensely, glass warm in hand, sharp suit and sea-blue eyes. Your mouth hung, mind blank for a moment before sputtering out,

‘’Oh, I–  I’m looking for the owner– I was hoping to… Audition…’’ You trailed off as the man began to circle you, fingers pried away your coat slightly, gaze wandering over your body. Calloused fingers tilted your chin upwards while he inspected your face before a slight smile appeared on his lips. ‘’If you’re still looking for dancers.’’

‘’Oh, we’re always looking for new girls, Sugar.’’ He gave you another once over before grinning, voice low and honeyed, ‘’Yeah, you’ll do,’’ He concluded, hand dropping from your chin before he began to walk away. ‘’Follow me.’’

‘’I take it you’re the owner,’’ you inquired as you followed the man to the other side of the club and down a dimly lit hallway, smiling back at, what you assumed was, one of his girls. ‘’You’re Pete?’’ 

‘’That’s me,’’ he confirmed as you’re led into an office. ‘’Gonna need to see ID, need you to sign a couple contracts, and for you to take your clothes off,’’ he quickly fired as he sat himself in his chair and threw a small stack of paper across the table. 

‘’Contracts?’’

‘’All my girls sign to stay loyal to the club, I don’t need anyone running off and taking my profits with them– helps limit competition, and I need to see what I’m working with here, you’re not exactly gonna be wearing a winter coat out there. Usually you’d come during the day, work the pole but, I got three of my regular girls out tonight, so it’s your lucky day.’’

‘’Oh,’’ You answer simply, pausing before a moment.  ‘’Right, yeah, lucky me– Of course,’’ you stumble out as you reach into your pocket and slide your ID on to his desk before peeling your jacket off and taking in a heavy breath before lifting your shirt over your head and sliding down your skirt with shaking hands. 

‘’You got any experience?’’ He asked simply. 

‘’Uh, no,’’ You answered, kicking your skirt to the side, fussing with your hands due to having no idea what to do with them. ‘’I’ve never done this before.’’ 

You dropped your head, feeling your cheeks heat up. When you finally looked back up, Pete was lounged back in his desk chair, eyebrow raised with a slick smile on his face. He didn’t look disappointed, he looked delighted, like the idea of a novice seemed to amuse him. Pete stood with a long intake of breath, leaving his station and stepping around the desk and moving towards you with a slow, almost predatory grace. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander the same way he did, eyeing the well tailored suit that left nothing to the imagination, large biceps crinkling the fabric as he crossed his arms. You let out a small gasp as he began to circle you, hand reaching out to smooth down your back, fingertips ghosting your sides. The floorboards creaked with each footstep until he was standing back in front of you. He reached out a hand to pluck at your bra. 

‘’Loose this,’’ he instructed casually. 

You gave a shaky nod, reaching behind to unclip your bra, slowly letting it fall down your arms before it was discarded on the floor with the rest of your clothes. You eyed him shyly, unsure if you were wanting the ground to swallow you up or if you wanted him to reach out and touch you. 

And touch you, he did. 

The back of his hand stroked down your stomach, knuckles grazing the softness of your lower belly. Nerves began to take over, you felt yourself trembling a little, and you knew he felt it by the way his mouth poked up at the side. Although, he was very obviously attractive, the bile still rose in your throat when you felt a familiar warm ache tug at your legs.

‘’I-I’m a hard worker,’’ You said hesitantly, desperately needing to fill the silence. 

‘’Hard worker,’’ Pete snorted, lips tugged up in a mocking smile. ‘’I don’t care about your worth ethic, Sugar. I care about the view.’’

‘’And?’’ You probed. 

His hand slipped around to your back, pulling you in close as he stared down at you, eyes flickering across your face. 

‘’Views are good,’’ He judged. ‘’You’ve certainly got a… Desperate innocence vibe going on. Guy’s are gonna eat that up.’’ He nodded as he stepped back, moving back towards the desk, propping himself against it. ‘’Here’s the deal: You’re gonna show me what you got, so I know whether you’ll need a few days with some of my best girls to work on those skills. Doesn’t mean you can’t work, but it means you’re limited to laps, and it’s just a bit less money. Base pay at the end of the week, tips are handed in and the house takes a cut and redistributed back to the girls. Be good to me, and I’ll be good to you.’’

You stood awkwardly nodding, arms crossing over your chest which made Pete laugh. 

‘’Drop ‘em,’’ He ordered, wagging a finger downwards. ‘’Just me and you, Sugar, how are you supposed to handle it being out there? Put ‘em down.’’ You complied as Pete carried on explaining: ‘’Pay the door, same way you did to get in, but my girls pay half to work. You gotta give to get in here, baby. VIP is for my more seasoned girls, better money, but we’ll talk about that further down the line. The contract…’’ He reaches behind himself to grab the small stack of paper. ‘’...Is so you understand that every single cent that your hand touches goes through me. No making deals with my clients, no outside work with the men that step into my club. That’s what VIP is for. There’s no need for you to be bent over in the back of some rented Bently, okay? You fuck me and you’re back on that street and you can’t go to any other club.’’ 

You nodded. ‘’Didn’t plan on it.’’

‘’That’s my girl,’’ He praised. ‘’Or, you will be, when you sign.’’ 

‘’So, I would start tonight?’’ 

He nodded and rattled the paper. 

With some hesitancy, you took the paper and the pen that quickly followed and stepped around him to lean and sign the dotted line, looking back up to find him staring down at you. He slipped the contract off the desk and stood straight, moving around the other side to slide into a locked draw before grabbing his glass and wandering over to a small couch in the corner of his office. He sat down, thighs spreading open, gaze locked on yours as he took a long swig of the amber liquid that sloshed in the crystal. 

‘’Come show me what you got, Sugar.’’ 

You let out a shaky breath, attempting to rid your body of the nerves, as you slowly stepped towards Pete’s open thighs. You turned in a fluid motion, hoping to God that it looked good, and lowered yourself onto his lap. Using the muted thumping from the club's belly, you began to wind your hips, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder. The cigarette smoke that clung to his suit assaulted your senses, mixing with the alcohol on his breath, making your head spin.  Your eyes closed, breathing unsteady as you continued your dance. You heard the soft thump of his glass being placed down and soon felt his fingers on your chin, guiding you to look behind. 

Your eyes fluttered open and were met with his intense gaze. Your breath hitched as his hands then found your waist, helping to guide you into a better rhythm. He hummed low in his throat, taking in a deep breath as his other hand slid over your thigh, goosebumps following in a traitorous line.

‘’There we go, just like that,’’ He coached, voice low and breathy. ‘’Gotta look at ‘em, Sugar. Gotta make sure they feel like the only man in the world, but they don’t touch you like I am, okay?’’ You begged your heart to slow as his hand smoothed over your stomach, heavy and strong. ‘’You’re good, Sugar, but you’re not ready to be out on the pole yet. You gotta put in some work, gonna set you up with one of my girls.’’ 

He tapped your thigh and motioned for you to stand. He followed suit, getting to his feet and looking down at you. He swept a stray lock of hair from your forehead, tucking it behind your ear. 

‘’You can work tonight. You got anything to wear?’’ 

You shook your head. He let out a little laugh. 

‘’Didn’t come very prepared, did you, Sugar?’’ 

‘’I– I used my last 20 bucks to get in here. I didn’t plan on coming in–’’

‘’You did what?’’ He questioned sharply, eyebrows raising. He sighed when you nodded your head. 

‘’S’why I really needed this to go well. I promise I’ll get better–’’

‘’Yeah, yeah, I don’t care about that right now,’’ Pete cut off. ‘’Where are you staying?’’

‘’The hotel at the end of the street, the–’’

‘’Yeah, the shitty one. How long have you got the room for?’’

‘’Three more days,’’ You confessed.

The room suddenly felt smaller, the silence was heavy with the weight of him knowing the situation; with admitting just how fucked you were. You searched his expression, he didn’t look even the slightest bit sympathetic. He looked like he had just found a really good loophole in his contract that made a smirk tug at his lips.

‘’Totally broke? Not a dime?’’ He asked, and nodded his head and let out a slow hum of contemplation when you confirmed. ‘’Alright. I can help.’’ 

You reached down for your shirt as he walked to his desk.

‘’I can’t really have you sleeping on a park bench. I need my girls at their best, so, here’s what I’m gonna do.’’ He sat down at his desk, elbows resting on the wood, his gaze getting more intense as he lingered on you as you dressed. 

‘’I’m gonna give you… An advance, you could say…’’ He trailed off, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a book and an envelope. He plucked a pen from a pot and clicked it before flicking open the ledger, and scrawling inside. ‘’I’m gonna take a little bit more of a cut until it’s paid off, but it means you can pay your door fee, you can eat, have a roof over your head and have a bit of time to work on those skills. It also means, you won’t actually have to work tonight if you’d rather rest up and spend the day practicing.’’ 

‘’Are you sure?’’ You raised a brow. ‘’Why would you–’’

‘’Consider it good faith, taking a chance,’’ He quickly interjected. ‘’Shows how sure I am that you’ll be one of my best.’’

There was a look in his eyes, predatory, and you weren't sure if he was throwing you a lifeline or a noose. ‘’What do you say, Sugar?’’ 

He held out the envelope. You hesitantly reached out for it, feeling like you were signing a deal with the devil. Your eyes locked on his as your fingers gripped the paper, an easy smile pulling at your lips in response to the smirk on his. 

‘’’Atta girl.’’

You lowered your head, looking down at the dusty patterned carpet. The weight on your shoulders felt heavier than ever, but at least you could get a decent meal. 

‘’I really don't have to work tonight?’’

‘’Nope,’’ He said, popping the ‘P’ and reaching over the desk to hook a finger under your chin as he stood, drawing your gazes back to each other. ‘’But, I wouldn’t mind a ‘thank you’.’’ 

He didn’t release his hold as he guided you around the desk, the smell of stale cigarettes, alcohol and a woody aftershave assaulting your senses again. Your heart kicked up speed, like someone had set off a tiny jackhammer in your chest, as you stepped into his space. You lifted onto your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, sucking in a breath and praying that it’ll be enough to please him. His touch moved to the side of your neck, his hand heavy and splayed across the column as he leaned down. 

‘’S’that all I get, Sugar?’’ He teased, hushed and sickly sweet. ‘’Not got anything else for me?’’ 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and opened your mouth to speak, but nothing wanted to come out. You took to shaking your head instead and gripped the envelope tight and pushed it against his chest as you turned your head. Your eyes closed and shoulders sagged when he let out a laugh, dropping his head to your shoulder and releasing the hold he had on your neck. 

‘’I’m fucking with you,’’ He chuckled darkly. ‘’Go on, get out of here before I decide to charge you for breathing the same air as me.’’

You stepped back, a small smile tugging at your lips and you reached for your bag from the floor.

‘’I’ll walk you out, actually. Need to check on my girls.’’ 

He walked to the door, swinging it open and motioning for you to step through. As you did, his hand found the middle of your back, heavy and guiding. The thumping base hit you as you walked back into the neon-lit chaos of the club, the night still in full swing. Pete nodded to several men on the way to the exit, hand slipping to your waist, pulling you close and keeping a tight grip and by the time the cold night breeze hit you, his warm palm was sitting on your ass. 

‘’I’m gonna be here at twelve tomorrow, I want you here,’’ He instructed, guiding you to face him, his voice taking on a sudden professional coldness. ‘’Do not be late, hmm?’’ 

You nodded. His eyes scanned you one last time, sea-blue eyes still holding that uneasy glint that made your stomach turn and your toes curl. 

‘’That’s my girl,’’ He praised with a tap to your backside before stepping away. ‘’See you tomorrow, Sugar.’’ 

You sucked in a breath and began your walk back to your hotel, the envelope weighing down your bag  and filling your throat with bile. The neon sign buzzed in your ears as you watched the purple hue on the sidewalk fade.  The rest of the walk was a blur, your mind filled with the flashing of lights, the booths of men, the smell of smoke and sweet drinks and the terrifying anxiety that clawed at your chest when you thought of having to sit in those men’s laps, strip down on a pole, vulnerable and exposed, for the sake of a roof and warm food; all while owing a man you’ve just met. 

The next day, you made your way back to Pete’s Place. 

The seedy club seemed less terrifying in the daylight. The neon sign hung unlit, the velvet red rope enclosed the open air and not the multiple bodies of men waiting to feast their eyes on women who couldn’t give a single shit about them, and Pete… Stood with his hand in his pocket, the other lifted to his lips as he took a long drag of a cigarette, eyes gleaming as he caught your eye. 

‘’There she is!’’ He greeted, cheerful and honeyed. ‘’My new favourite, fresh and ready for the day. How’d you sleep, Sugar? Room booked for a little longer?’’ 

You nodded, ‘’All secured for the next two weeks, and I’m gonna go and get some groceries when I’m done–’’

‘’Yeah, sounds all golden, Sugar,’’ He laughed. ‘’One of my best is waiting inside for you. She’s gonna show you the ropes, how to shake that ass good enough to empty some wallets for me. I’m gonna come and see you in a few hours and see how you’re getting on and hopefully we’ll get you on that pole and not stuck in laps.’’ 

With that, he stepped out to the curb as a black Sedan pulled up. 

‘’Off you go,’’ He ordered.

You nodded once again before heading inside of the club. 

You searched the club’s belly for the woman but she was seemingly nowhere to be found until you made your way into the dressing room. The atmosphere was stifling despite it being empty. It stunk of hairspray, multiple different perfumes blending together and smoke. The vanities were a thing of chaos, make up strewed, rollers and different hair tools. Rails of sequins and fishnets and a wall of lockers that were decorated in different styles, showing off the aesthetics of each woman that owned them. 

You turned to leave when you bumped into a woman, already kitted out in something Pete would absolutely have chosen, she gleamed brightly, seemingly genuinely happy to be here.

‘’So, you’re the new little lamb Pete picked up?’’ She asked sweetly, cigarette hanging from her lip and adjusting the band under her bust. She moved into the room and towards the railing of clothes with a grace and confidence you prayed to acquire as quickly as possible. ‘’I’m Rachael, Pete’s asked me to show you how to not get eaten alive tonight.’’ 

She plucked a simple, sheer black slip and held it out, ‘’Let’s see if you can actually move, or if you’re just a pretty little lamb.’’ 

After you changed you gave yourself a second, third and fourth glance over before she playfully rolled her eyes and pulled you out to the club floor and towards one of the smaller side stages. She left to flick on the club lights, shy under the sunlight that waved through the balcony windows and clicking around inside the DJ booth until the bass rattled through the floor. The polished chrome gleaned under the purple and blue lights, cold and intimidating as she made her way onto the stage. She demonstrated multiple moves with an effortless ease, her heels clicking softly against the platform floor, fluid and languid. 

‘’You see, it’s not about dancing, not really,’’ She said as she swirled around, leg hooked around the pole. ‘’It’s about the tease. You never give it away all at once, you gotta make them ache for it. You gotta make ‘em think that if they throw just the right amount, they might just get a chance to touch you, have your attention.’’ 

You nodded watching her closely.

‘’Now, get up here and try a basic spin. Just copy exactly what I did.’’ Rachael slid down and stepped off the stage, motioning for you to step up.

‘’I’ll try my best,’’ You said earnestly. 

‘’Your best doesn’t pay the bills, honey. Confidence and ass does.’’ 

You stepped onto the platform, the polished surface feeling slippery beneath your heels. You wrapped your hand hesitantly around the pole. You attempted the spin she had demonstrated, but instead of a fluid glide, your foot caught the edge of the stage and stumbled. You cursed yourself as she smiled and waved for you to try again which while the second attempt was better, the grace Rachael had exhibited was nowhere to be seen. She circled you like a hawk, eyes watching every move, often reaching out to make you arch your back more, to drop your shoulders, to reposition your legs. 

‘’You’re like a newborn lamb, stop thinking about it so much,’’ She giggled, sweet and light until her tone suddenly turned serious. ‘’Never look them in the eye for too long. Makes ‘em think they own you. Keep it light, fleeting, make them chase it,’’ She coached. ‘’The pole is a tool, it’s your friend, use it to hide what you don’t like and highlight what you do like. Use it to your advantage. Do not fear it.’’

The next few hours passed in a blur of twirls, clicks of heels and red knees. Exhaustion clung to your skin, damp and slick under the spotlights, the sun dipping behind the clouds casting a golden glow into the club as you spun and dipped for the hundredth time, finally gaining some semblance of control of the cold metal. Rachael  gleamed and squealed when you would find your footing, hit a dip in time to the music and get through at least a minute without a stumble. 

You were trying to follow another of Rachael’s demonstrations when a familiar voice cut through the air and drifted its way over to the stage. Pete had returned, leaning against a pillar on the far side of the club floor, drink in hand and watching with an amused glint in his eyes, tracking you carefully. 

‘’What a clumsy little thing you are, Sugar. Tell me, baby,’’ He said, a tinge of playful annoyance coating his words as he sauntered forward and towards the edge of the stage. ‘’You always like this or is it the thrill of being in my presence?’’ 

Rachael rolled her eyes as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. 

‘’She’s getting there, she’s just… A little cautious… Shy– It’s cute!’’ She defended, a sweet grin as she returned the kiss to Pete’s cheek and then looked back at you with a wink. 

‘’I don’t need cute, I don’t need cautious. I can’t sell that,’’ Pete spoke, short and to the point. ‘’It doesn’t make me money. Desire does.’’ 

He made his way to the base of the stage, looking up at you. The spotlights casted deep shadows across his face, making his eyes seem black. You let out a breath as he eyed, not as a person, but as a product that was ineffective. He rapt his knuckles on the platform floor, his voice dropping,

‘’Get down here.’’ 

You practically leaped from the platform, steading yourself on his arm as your footing faltered, your chest heaving from a mix of exhaustion and nerves. Up close, the scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses, your head spinning as he pulled you in closer. He looked you up and down, shaking his head with a disappointed frown. You couldn’t help the shakes that swam under your skin as he peered into your eyes. He walked you back slowly, the back of your thighs digging into the edge of the stage. 

‘’Look at you,’’ He began to scold gently. ‘’Shaking like a leaf, like you’re waiting for the firing squad rather than a paycheck.’’ 

Pete then reached up a hand, finding the back of your neck, his thumb pressing firmly into the dip at the base of your skull, forcing you to keep your gaze on his. The amusement was long gone and replaced by a demanding, icy intensity. He leaned his head down, breath hot against your cheek.

‘’The men that come through those doors do not pay for ‘nervous’. They pay for a fantasy. A fantasy of a woman who knows exactly how to drive them crazy. If you walk out there looking like a lost puppy, they’ll smell the fear, they’ll take advantage, and then you’ll owe me for that nice advance I gave you and I’ll want it in full and I know sure as shit…’’ He leaned down further lips brushing against your jaw as he whispered in your ear. ‘’You don’t have it, and we’ll have to work something else out, won’t we?’’

He released you abruptly, and you fell against the edge of the stage, willing the tears to stay at bay as he stepped back and guested at Rachael and then towards the stage.

‘’Keep working her. I want her ready.’’ 

The next two hours were full of exertion, exhaustion, sweat and damn near tears until it finally came time to go back to your hotel to rest up for your shift. Rachael seemed happy with where you managed to get to, she had taught you how to use your shyness as a weapon, how to perfectly arch your back and how to breathe through the nerves but whether Pete would end up sharing the same feelings was still to be determined. Your muscles ached and cried out with each step back to your hotel, palms raw from the friction of the pole, and the fear of ending up on the street sat heavy in your stomach along with the feeling of feeling less like a woman and more like a piece of property, catalogued and highly priced. 

The night swept in with a heavy tension, the club hummed; scattered voices from the line outside as you walked through the front with a nod to security and a crisp ten slipped into the hand of the woman on the door. You shucked up your bag higher on your shoulder, watching as the staff at the bar moved with a frantic energy, attempting to keep up with the hoards of men tapping their fingers for a drink while their eyes leeched on the dancers at the pole. 

You made your way to Pete’s office, rapping your fingers on the doorframe and smiling when he looked up at you with a grin. 

‘’Hey, Sugar, what d’ya need?’’ He asked, stepping from around the back of his desk and moving towards the door. 

‘’Is it okay if I borrow an outfit for tonight? I didn’t get a chance to run and grab anything– Maybe a pair of heels as well?’’

Pete nodded, ‘’Yeah, take what you want from the rails in the dressing room, shoes are underneath. Just make sure they’re returned or I have to charge you for it.’’ 

‘’Thanks,’’ You replied sweetly.

Pete then pressed his hand to the small of your back, leading you towards the dressing room. The girls were in full swing, the clatter of make up and the clicking of straighteners and curlers mixed with their laughs and banter as they applied finishing touches. 

‘’Alright, my lovely ladies, this is Sugar,’’ Pete addressed loudly, adopting the nickname he gave you as your dancer name without giving you a chance to argue about it. ‘’She’s the newest addition. Be nice, look after her, she’s a shy one… And get out there and make me some money.’’ 

You felt cornered as the other dancers scanned you from head to toe, receiving a mixture of curiosity, warm welcome and cold competition. You wrung your hands together as Pete stepped away to grab an outfit from the rack, bending to snag a pair of shoes and walking back over to you. It may as well have been a collection of strings rather than an outfit; baby pink and covered in sequins. 

‘’You’ve got twenty minutes and then I want you on that stage,’’ He ordered, firm but oddly sweet. ‘’I’ll be watching from the balcony booths so don’t fuck this up, alright, Sugar?’’ 

You hummed in agreement as he bent down, presenting his cheek to which you quickly pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Pete grinned and gave a wink, and without saying another word, he laid a soft tap on your ass and walked out the door, leaving you with a tightness in your chest and a sinking feeling in your stomach. You walked to a spare vanity, setting your bag down and started at the reflection, finding a girl you barely recognised anymore. Even more so once you had changed, the baby pink set Pete had chosen, clung to every curve and valley, and left nothing to the imagination. The soft colours contrasted painfully with the dark circles of fatigue which you had tried your best to cover with multiple swipes of concealer. 

You wondered if this is exactly how Pete wanted you; looking like a daydream on the verge of a deep, dark nightmare. 

‘’Hey,’’ A voice spoke, drawing you away from your thoughts, and you looked up to find a woman standing behind you, a smile on her face and dressed in green. ‘’He’s really trying to push the ‘barely there’ look tonight, isn’t he?’’

You nodded, a shy smile on your face as you smoothed down the outfit.

‘’I’m Crocki. Like, crocodile. Pete found a stuffed crocodile in my bag once– totally forgot it was there, and hasn’t let me live it down since,’’ She laughed, genuine and comforting. ‘’Just do your job, keep him happy and you’ll have no issues. Most of the girls here are really nice. They just wanna make their money and dip. It’s not all bad, okay?’’ 

You nodded again, struggling to find the words to speak, nerves were eating at your vocal cords and tugging at your throat. 

‘’I’ll see you out there, you’ll be great, don’t worry,’’ Crocki reassured, giving a comforting rub to your arm before disappearing out of the dressing room. 

The other girls soon left, leaving you on your own. You took another minute to breathe deeply, eyes closed; the thumping of the lion’s den pounded in your ears. 

The transition was jarring to say the least; one moment you were safe in arms of bulb lights, perfume and mirrors and the next you were willing your footing to not falter as you stepped into the club’s belly, the music shifting and deepening into something primal, visceral. The lights were a bruised purple, the smoke from cigars and cigarettes acted as a map to the men huddled around the stages and perched in the booths. It merged into a hungry roar and you were the meal. 

High above the main floor, a singular familiar figure leaned over the railing, elbows propped against the metal, swirling a drink with keen eyes locked on your every move. Pete gave you a grin, nodding towards the stage, that predatory glint on full show; it crawled over your body like a physical touch, sending a shiver down your spine and forming a lump in your throat. 

You made your way to the stage as another dancer collected the cash from the floor, the crowd dying down a little as the smell of alcohol, flashing lights and the sea of hungry eyes waited in a subdued anticipation as you climbed the steps and clicked onto the stage. You smiled weakly at the dancer as she passed you and gave one last glance at Pete before gripping the pole. 

A heavy, industrial beat slammed into the room, the bass rattling the panels of the stage as your body began to react to the rhythm. The sequins caught the strobe lights, sending shards of glitter and gold dancing on the floor and faces of the crowd. You focused on the pole, remember your tutelage, hiding your sloppy footwork behind the pole and using it as a grounding point amidst the chaos, spinning and arching your back. 

The atmosphere shifted to expose a raw hunger, men leaned forward, their eyes fixed on your every move. You earned whistles, dollar bills and captivated silences from others. You dared to glance again up at the balcony, finding Pete still stood in the same spot, watching you with an intensity you just couldn’t pinpoint, the cigarette in his hand glowing a cherry-red as he took a deep drag and blew out the smoke slowly. It didn’t seem like he was looking at you like just another dancer; more like an investment he was ready to wring out for as much cash as possible. 

The next song started, giving you no time to recover, switching to a slower, haunting ethereal pull. The lights dimmed a bit further, the purple lights casting a shadow across your body which helped you feel more hidden. You relaxed a little, finding a hidden ease in the slower, more languid movements. You transitioned into a slow descent on the pole, body arching, a softness that was stark against the grit of the club. The air felt thick and charged as you locked eyes with Pete once again, a smug satisfaction written across his face as he stubbed out the cigarette and took a swig from his glass. 

As the song reached its end, you gave a slow swirl around the pole with a lingering, new found seductive grace, and slowly dropped to your knees. Your chest rose and fell heavily, hand still gripping the pole as money rained and Pete grinned. He didn’t move an inch, his stare was like a physical weight, like he was claiming every inch of your skin by his force of will. 

You stayed in that pose for a short moment, before getting to your feet, and quickly scooping up the bills. You didn’t dare to give another look towards Pete as you left the stage. The adrenaline hummed through your veins, crumpled bills sticking to the sweat of your chest as you made your way back to the dressing room to have a moment to gather yourself before heading back out to the floor. 

The transition from the blinding lights, to the grim reality of the backstage area was discordant and bleak, but the weight of the cash in your hands felt like a small victory, one worthy of essentially selling your soul. The other dancers glanced with small smiles and nods of newfound respect. As you reached your locker to stow your earnings until the end of the night, the door to the dressing room opened with a slow, deliberate creak. The girls quickly cleared out, pressing kisses and giving hugs to Pete as they exited. 

He stood in the doorway, suit jacket hung over his arm, hair disheveled and shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, his large biceps bulging under the thin fabric as he crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. He looked less like the shady business man you met the night before and more like a predator who had decided to stop watching and start pouncing. He didn’t say anything at first, simply stared at you, eyes seemingly peering through you and the way you clutched the money in your hands. 

‘’Quite the show, Sugar.’’ His voice was low, dangerously sweet. ‘’Didn’t know you had it in you. Proves hard work pays off when you really want something.’’

He stepped into the room, the click of his shoes sounding like a countdown. He stopped just inches away, his presents suffocating and overwhelming; the scent of bourbon and expensive tobacco enveloping the air around you both. He reached out, fingers sliding under your chin to keep your gazes locked. 

‘’You enjoy the attention, baby? The money make you move like that?’’ He asked in a hushed tone, breath ghosting your cheek. ‘’You playing me, Sugar?’’

You shook your head, ‘’Beginners luck, I guess.’’

Pete let out a soft, dark chuckle. The grin didn’t reach his eyes as he grazed your lower lip with a gentle, but possessive pressure. 

‘’Beginners luck,’’ He parroted, husky and contemplative. 

He didn’t release the hold on your chin; his grip tightened, ensuring you couldn’t escape his eyes. It was heavy, stripping you bare more effectively than the skimpy bundle of strings of your costume ever could. He seemed to be savouring the simplicity of your answer. He then shifted his weight, pushing you back against the cool metal of the lockers. The heat from his body crept over your skin, pricking at your senses as he leaned down, his voice barely a whisper.

‘’You’re a terrible liar, baby. I saw the way you looked at them; saw the way you looked at me.’’ His lips grazed your ear, his other hand gripping at your waist, bringing your middles together, eliciting a muted gasp that settled in your throat. ‘’You played the room, the hunger… And now, you’ve got me wondering how much more of that ‘luck’ you have hidden away.’’ 

He looked down at your hand as he stepped back, his expression shifting to something more demanding; the softness vanishing and replaced by the cold authority of the man who owned your entire being.

‘’Hand it over, Sugar,’’ He commanded, gesturing to the cash bundled in your hand, palm up and waiting. 

You placed the money in his hand and sighed as he counted the bills with a rapid, well seasoned motion, eyes flicking over the amounts. The soft snap-snap-snap of the bills drummed in your ears and drowned out the muted thump of the bass as you waited with bated breath to see how much your cut would be.

Once he reached the total, he folded the bills and stuffed them into his pocket and then reached out to pull a smaller, measly stack from the other, holding it out to you with a satisfied grin. You took it, splaying out the few bills between your fingers, a lesser amount than what would even be considered a fair pay, but regardless of your feelings you looked up and smiled with feigned gratitude. 

‘’I had to deduct your newcomer's fee, and the prime slot on the main stage, of course,’’ He said casually, arms folded across his chest again, he watched for your reaction with a cruel sort of curiosity. ‘’An investment in your future here. You understand, right, Sugar?’’

You nodded with a strained smile. He didn’t wait for you to say anything else, he turned his gaze towards the door, checking you were still alone, before he looked back at you with that same predatory, hungry gaze.

His voice dropped to a low, purr. ‘’You’ve got a lot of potential, Sugar. I can’t wait for the day I get to be on the receiving end of it.’’ 

He reached out again, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you flush against him for one last, possessive moment. He lingered, nose brushing against your temple, taking in a small inhale and making your heart jump in your chest.

‘’Get back out there, Sugar.’’

Pete released you abruptly and sauntered out the room, door clicking shut behind him. The tension that had brewed broke instantly and you exhaled sharply, unaware of the breath you had kept clutched in your chest. The silence in the room felt a thousand tons heavier than the atmosphere on stage, the few bills in your hand felt like a slap to the face; the feeling of the effort you had put into being stage-ready felt wasteful and sour. You wondered if this was going to be worth it, if you should keep putting all you had into pleasing a man who wanted you rob you blind and keep your livelihood wrapped in his hands. 

You were pulled out your thoughts by a group of dancers making their way back into the dressing room, some giving empathic glances.

‘’Welcome to Pete’s Place, babe. Hope you like pennies,’’ She said simply, a tight smile on her lips.

Another was re-applying her eyeliner when she spoke; ‘’Don’t let him see you cry. It’s like he smells it, like a shark.’’

She didn’t offer anything else; in this place, empathy seemed to be a luxury only a few could afford. They all continued their routines like the small conversation never happened, the sounds of brushes and small talk the only sound in the room. You stuffed the cash in your bag, shutting the locker with a frustrated slam before sucking in a sharp breath and heading back out into the club. 

A few hours later, after spending the rest of the night in laps and grinning sweetly at horrible men, you moved in front of your locker as you changed, movements mechanical as if all parts that were human had been stripped away and shoved inside a box. As you pulled on the clothes you had arrived in, you felt a cold knot forming in your stomach; the desperation that had dragged you through the club's doors was starting to form into a quiet rage.

As you stepped out of the club and into the night's cool air, the neon sign flicked overhead and the meager amount in your pocket laughed at you as you sulked back to the dingy hotel room. The click of the lock sounded like a gavel, finalizing your sentence of struggle. You slid down the door, the cold wood pressing against your spin as you melted into an exhausted puddle. You stayed there for a while, staring down at the carpet, breath coming out in ragged hitches as the adrenaline of the night wore off. 

You looked down at your shaking hands as you mulled over the contract, the debt, the sick smile on Pete’s face— his hands, his arms, his smell. You groaned and covered your face with your hands, hating how he continued to invade your thoughts despite the hatred that pooled in your guts. 

With the adrenaline long gone, it left behind the crushing weight of exhaustion. You let out a long, suffering sigh as you got to your feet. You knew without a shadow of a doubt that your first big night wasn’t just a hurdle to get over, but the beginning of a slow, wretched descent into Pete’s sordid world. 

The following weeks were a blur of exhaustion and frustration. Every night followed the same pattern: the blinding lights, the squeak of the pole, the hungry eyes;  the exhilarating rush of the dance, the red knees, bruises and blisters and the crushing disappointment at the end of the night when Pete handed you your pitiful earnings. Pete became increasingly bold with his touches, promises of bonuses were always tied to how much you were willing to tolerate his advances in the office, and having to deal with his monetary retaliations when you refused.

The heavy bass vibrated under your feet, tickling your toes through your high-platform shoes. Your hands clutched at the cold, silver pole as you delicately swirled yourself around. The past few weeks your skills had improved; although, not enough according to Pete; though you were dead sure that his thoughts were an excuse to pull you into his lap for impromptu lessons. 

You kept your gaze loose, swinging from patron to the girls sat in laps with glowing smiles and fingers twirling through their hair as the grasped dollar bills. Blue and purple hues danced over your body as your hips swayed the best they could in time to the beat as you prayed for the song to finally be over. 

The interest in you was dwindling; the allure of a shiny new girl was fading fast and you were no longer receiving tips just for being there. You knew it wouldn’t last forever, but you damn sure hoped it’d last long enough to pay your bill at the hotel. You had five days to come up with three hundred bucks, and by the measly few dollar bills in your pocket and the couple of fives on the floor; things weren’t looking good. 

You made your way into the dressing room after your set, finding girls in various stages of getting ready and touching up their hair and walked over to Rachel's chair. 

“Can I talk to you about something?” You asked, standing behind Rachel's chair.

“Yeah, anything, babe.” 

She set her brush down and turned back to face you.

“I know I need to get better on stage, but how did you get Pete to let you into the VIP section?”

“You have to pay, didn’t he tell you that?”

“Yeah, I know that, but he keeps wanting me—“

“Oh, yeah, you need to pay him. Treat him well, look after him…” She trailed off as you looked completely lost. “Head, Sugar. The man wants head. Just do it. You’re gonna be doing more than that in VIP.”

“I thought it was just more private—“

“Nooo. No, no, no,” She snickered, grinning brightly. “They want more than just a dance, which is why you’ve gotta pay Nick to get through the door because they have to work harder to keep you safe.” 

“I have to pay security?” You whined, throwing up your hands. ‘’Am I gonna have to start paying to breathe?’’

“Pay, tip, all the same. He’s really explained none of this to you?”

You shook your head as she gave an empathic smile before tapping your arm as she passed you to leave to go out the club floor. You stood for a moment, trying to find any other way to survive the next week that didn’t require sulking into Pete’s office and grovelling for another loan. You let out a pained groan when you realised you had no other choice.

You trudged into Pete’s office, heavy heels weighing down your steps as if trying to pull you back from your impending doom.

‘’Pete, I have a favour to ask,’’ You spoke sweetly as you stepped into his office.

‘’Shoot,’’ Pete replied, sorting through papers on his desk, brows knitting together as he discarded one after another, letting out huffed sighs. ‘’Quickly, now. Things to do,’’ Pete prompted sharply.

‘’I– I don’t have enough for rent– Well, the hotel bill–’’

‘’You’re still there?’’ Pete paused, eyeing you with a slight disgust. ‘’Why are you still there?’’

‘’Yeah, it’s cheap and no point wasting time finding somewhere else,’’ You explained, sighing and wringing your hands. ‘’I was wondering if you’d let me work in the VIP section, the girls said they make more money–’’

‘’Not happening,’’ He cut in sharply, pulling on his suit jacket.

‘’Why?’’ You asked, feeling already defeated and slightly offended.

‘’Because you refuse to do what the other girls do in order to work in VIP,’’ He snorted, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a familiar envelope. ‘’Gotta treat me like a VIP to get to the VIP’s, Sugar.’’ 

‘’I really need the money,’’ You pleaded. 

‘’Work harder,’’ Pete said bluntly. ‘’Learn how to actually dance, you’ve gotten better, but the shy, innocent, little baby out of place act isn’t gonna get you far, it doesn’t last long–’’

‘’Yeah, I know,’’ You muttered under your breath.

‘’What was that, now?’’ He questioned, making you shrink as if you were a child that had just been scolded and before you could say anything else, he waved a hand;  ‘’Doesn’t matter. Look, you’re no good to me if you end up on the street and get swiped and thrown into a van, so I guess I can loan you the money.’’

‘’Thank you,’’ You gushed, rushing over to him and placing your hand on his forearm. ‘’Thank you so much. I swear, I’ll work it off for free–’’

‘’I’ll just take a higher cut until you’re paid up. Not much good to me either if you don’t have the energy to stand on the stage and do whatever it is you do. And it means you can spend more time here working on your skill… Oh, do you need more lessons, sweetheart? I’m always available for practice, you know that, right?’’

‘’I just need to work on my confidence, but thanks for the offer, Pete,’’ You said earnestly, pressing a kiss to his cheek and taking the envelope. ‘’And thank you for the money. I’ll see you tomorrow.’’ 

‘’Oh, you’re not done. It’s barely 1 A.M.’’ Pete huffed out a short laugh, hands stuffed in his pockets.

‘’I’m really tired and I’m just not getting any attention,’’ You replied, exhausted and pouting to hopefully gain a little sympathy. 

‘’So work for it,’’ He commanded and guided you out of the office and departed with his usual tap to your ass.

You parted from him at the dressing room doorway, watching him as he disappeared into the club, the money feeling sickly heavy in your hand. You huffed as you sat in your hair, stuffing the cash into your bag and shoving it under your vanity.

‘’My advice,’’ Crocki said, matter-of-fact but sympathetic. ‘’Stop borrowing money from a man that already underpays you. There’s better things you can do.’’

‘’You can always find work on the side,’’ Alexa said, fiddling with a curl that wouldn’t sit just right.

‘’I thought we couldn’t go to any clubs. None of the restaurants or anything I can do during the day want to hire me. I mean, I get it, all I have are stripper outfits and a leather jacket,’’ You huffed as you threw down your makeup brush, smoothing out the edges of your eyeshadow with your finger. 

‘’Not talking about another club, not talking about waitressing,’’ Alexa laughed. ‘’The girls do home visits, parties, entertainment; others do more. You just gotta talk to Pete, he sets it all up.’’ 

‘’I don’t think I could do that, I can barely give a lap dance, and plus, I asked about VIP, he won’t let me unless I sleep with him.’’

‘’He ain’t bad in bed,’’ Rachael smirked, hand on the back of your chair as she popped her hip, her brow jumping teasingly.

‘’I sleep with him for free,'' Navy cut in, giggling as she joined Rachael, smoothing a finger over her lip gloss.

‘’I did not need to know that,’’ You groaned, a little laugh. ‘’Seriously, how am I supposed to be alone with these men?’’ 

‘’Because here you’re surrounded by people, you’re both watching and being watched. You might find it easier within the privacy of someone's home. You could make some serious money,’’ Alexa explained, standing and fluffing her hair.

‘’Come on, we better get back out there,’’ Crocki probed, shooing you up and out of your seat.

It was on a rainy Tuesday night that an opportunity presented itself in the form of a man who eyed you all night. You were finishing a slow, grinding set when the man dressed in a charcoal suit with a look of wealth and hunger in his eyes approached the edge of the stage as you were collecting the cash. He didn’t toss any himself, but he leaned in with a low, urgent plea:

‘’You’re breathtaking,’’ He breathed hotly. ‘’I have a private booth, if you want to join me. I can pay you for your time, more than whatever that boss of yours would give you.’’

You contemplated, knowing the rules were explicitly clear: No off the book dealings. Then you thought of the dwindling cash in your pocket, your overdrawn account and the money you already owed Pete. You knew it was risky, but you found yourself offering a different deal.

‘’Not here. Write down your address and I’ll come get it from you after I give a few dances,’’ You instructed quietly and then motioned for the man to leave. 

The man nodded frantically, excitement crossing his face and his gaze lingering on your body before he stepped away, blending into the crowd and up to the balcony booths. You navigated to the dressing room with a sharp focus, not paying any mind to the other dancers as you quickly stuffed the cash away and made your way back into the club and passed the time on a few laps before making your way up to the man. He slid his address in with a wad of twenties and you spent a song or two in his lap before rushing to change and leave.

You hailed a cab and met him back at his apartment.

With that single night, that simple exchange, began your secret hustle– right under Pete’s nose. 

The following weeks became a dangerous dance of their own. You honed your art of your side hustle. You began to keep a mental note of regulars that eyed you with the specific, desperate hunger; the ones who had more money than sense and a certain distaste for Pete’s heavy-handed management. With folded bills containing addresses and phone numbers, the whispers of something more and thick envelopes pressed into your palm at the end of your nights, your stash began to grow. 

You had to be careful how you spent your money, having excuses at the ready when you showed up with new outfits and shoes, passing it off as second-hand or cheap online purchases. For the first time in a long time, you felt a shred of agency; you were no longer having to beg, no longer having to be a victim of Pete’s scraps– you were creating a life of your own. However, the risk grew with every encounter, having to be wary about where you met them, how you kept in contact, keeping yourself hidden from them inside the club. 

The most dangerous part though, wasn’t the logistics; it was the change in your own demeanor. As the list grew, so did your confidence. The desperation that once made you easy to intimidate was quickly replaced and you started to look at Pete with a secret, mocking amusement and no longer with fear. 

Friday night was a blur of shimmering pale blue lace and the suffocating scent of cigars. Pete had suggested the outfit, claiming he just knew the attention it would attract and sadly, he was right. It drew in a specific breed of predatory men. You felt less like a dancer and more like a piece of sordid art that was subjected to lingering touches and hungry whispers. You spent time moving booth to booth, lap to lap, your movements fluid and hesitant, playing your usual role of the trembling innocent to practiced perfection while counting the seconds until the night was over.

As the night progressed, you made your way back downstairs, heading over to the bar to grab a drink of water when you caught the eye of possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen; the kind of man people wrote about, the type that you thought couldn’t possibly exist. 

The man was an absolute mountain of a human being.

He had to be an easy six-foot-nine, he towered ridiculously over the other men at the bar, his broad shoulders blocking out the purple lights behind him, casting a halo around him. His open flannel showed off his tight black shirt, stretched thin over his muscle. His face was set in a stony, grumpy expression until he noticed you were looking right back at him which made him break out in a grin as you stepped closer to him. You took in the thick beard, long hair and sucked in a sharp breath as a warmth spread over your stomach. 

You smiled shyly up at him and offered out your hand to him, and happily let yourself be guided into his space as he spoke in a low rumble which vibrated in your chest.

‘’You’re the new one,’’ He stated, wetting his lips as he pulled you closer.

The smell of expensive sandalwood and aged leather clung to him, making your head spin as he leaned down to hear you in the deafening noise of the club. 

‘’Hi,’’ You said breathlessly, ‘’I’m Sugar.’’

You'd been living in your apartment with your roommate, Jake Jensen, for a year now and he was beginning to lose it. He'd been obsessed with you from the minute you walked through the door, but you never showed any interest in him and it frustrated him to no end.

He tried to show you how perfect he could be, making you your coffee in the mornings, cooking meals, showering you in chocolate and attention when you were on your period. 

When that didn't work he switched tactics, walking around the apartment with his torso on show, waiting to see if you peeked at his abs or looked lustfully after him, but you never did, he was firmly planted in the friend zone.

When you started bringing dates home, the only reprieve he could find was pressing his ear to the ajoining wall to your room and jacking himself off while listening to your moans. He'd heard you have sex so many times that he knew every little sound you made, which ones were forced and fake and which ones you made as you crossed the precipice of pleasure.

Being the tech genius he was, he already had access to all your socials and accounts, often checking your search history or messages for any clues of what he was doing wrong, of what he could do to make you want him as badly as he wanted you, but he always came up short.

On this particular evening, Jake was out. Where he was, you didn't know, but you took the opportunity to open your laptop and put on your favourite porn site, slipping your hand into your pants beneath your oversize sleepshirt and tickling your clit until you came with a cry on your shared sofa. 

Exhausted from your plight, you closed the laptop lid and escaped to your room, dramatically dropping onto your sheets and falling asleep in record time.

When Jake came home he was beyond frustrated. Going out with his loser friends was always fun, until they'd all make a show of collecting women to take home and he had to come home with his own fist yet again, wishing you were waiting for him. 

He dropped down onto the sofa with a huff and scrubbed his hand through his blonde hair, before noticing your laptop laying on the coffee table. He peeked towards your bedroom door seeing it closed and quickly lifted the laptop lid. 

It was locked of course, password protected and sure that would have been a problem if he hadn't figured out your password months ago, so he quickly put it in and gasped when your last activity blared on the screen.

He couldn't believe his eyes, you had been sat where he sat, watching porn like a naughty girl, but that wasn't the only thing that caught his eye, it was what you were watching. Somnophelia porn, 'Taking my girlfriends pussy while she sleeps' the title read.

"You kinky little minx." He mumbled to himself as he clicked the back button on the browser, only to be led to yet another video, 'Fucked her awake'.

"So this is what you're into huh?" He mused with a smirk.

Jake put the laptop back down, unsurprised that his cock had stiffened in his pants and he grabbed it through the fabric with a soft groan.

He looked back towards your doorway while he palmed his length and before he knew it he was on his feet, ear pressed to your door listening for any sound of movement.

When he heard none, he slowly pushed down the handle and carefully opened the door.

He could have come in his pants at the sight that met him. You were lying on your side on top of your sheets in nothing but a sleepshirt and a tiny pair of panties. your shirt had ridden up over your abdomen revealing your plush ass and your soft breaths filled the space. 

His cock twitched and pressed harder against his jeans uncomfortably. 

"Okay big guy, hold on." He mumbled quietly to his cock, as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them to the ground, stepping out of them along with his shoes and leaving him in his shirt and boxers. 

"Fuck that's better." He whispered as his cock relished the more breathable space of just his soft baggy boxers.

He palmed his length one more time as he looked over your form and his mind began to run wild with ideas, ideas formed from your own filthy porn search.

He padded over to your bed and gently sat on the mattress, looking at you tensely, relieved when you didn't react. He continued on, laying down on his side so he was almost flush to your back, close but not touching, not wanting to risk too much incase you woke. 

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He whispered as he roughly grabbed his covered cock and tugged firmly.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, that he should back up and leave but he was so turned on and so fed up of waiting for you to notice him. As he lifted his hand from his cock and placed it on your hip he cursed under his breath, unsure just how far he was willing to take this little ploy.

His thumb circled over your flesh and he wasn't surprised to find just how soft you were.

Getting no resistance from you, he slid his hand slowly onto your belly, propping his head up with his other arm, resting on the elbow so he could watch what he was doing. 

"Been thinkin' of ways to get you to notice me for so long." He mumbled as his hand continued its journey.

His palm soon met the underside of your bare tit and he bit down on his lip harshly to stop the moan that threatened to come out. He knew then and there that there was no stopping him now, he needed you and he was finally going to take what should be his.

His palm cupped your tit, massaging the flesh before he swiped his thumb over your nipple, feeling it harden to his touch.

"God, you want this too don't you?" He murmered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to shoulder as he continued massaging your tit. 

"I know you're gonna love this." He whispered against your skin, releasing your tit to slip his hand back down towards your abdomen. 

When Jake reached the apex of your panties, he pressed his mouth to your shoulder to muffle the groan that erupted from his lips. He slipped his fingers under the material, fingering the soft tuft of hair before reaching your folds and swiping a finger gently over them.

When he heard you moan he pulled his head back in surprise, eyes widening as your lips parted.

It was all the convincing he needed to continue on, dipping two fingers into the growing wetness and locating your clit, rubbing soft circles over it as you began gasping softly in your sleep.

His fingers slipped down through your folds, collecting some of the slick pooling before working back up over your nub, while he listened to your ragged breaths.

"Jesus baby you're dripping. You really do like this don't you?" He whispered.

He finally shuffled forwards an inch, pressing himself flush to your back and began humping his hard cock against your ass as he worked over your clit.

"Fuck baby I gotta get my cock in you, waited long enough." He groaned impatiently, quickly removing his fingers from you. 

He slipped his boxers down to his thighs and groaned when his cock pressed between your ass cheeks.

"Fuck." He muttered before steadying himself and slipping your panties to the side.

He pressed his tip to your entrance and bit down on his lip hard as he slowly pushed into your wet channel, hearing you whine in pleasure.

"Oh god you feel amazing." He rasped when he bottomed out inside you, hips flush to your backside.

"Gonna make you feel so good." He murmured as he placed his hand on your hip and slowly withdrew his cock before pushing it back inside with a groan.

He began a slow pace inside your cunt, allowing you to get used to his cock as he dragged it along your walls and gently tapped his head to your cervix, hearing your soft panting and moans.

"You're never gonna leave my cock again, not now I know how filthy you are." He muttered before his hips snapped forward of their own accord harshly and you squeaked.

"Gonna fuck you full of my cum." He continued, beginning an onslaught of harder thrusts into your pussy as he lost all self control, unable to believe just how good you felt around him, how perfect you were.

"No man will ever get near you again." He grunted, hand tightening on your hip possessively.

You whined loudly and your eyes fluttered, head tipping up to the ceiling as you struggled to slip from sleeping to awake.

"Don't worry baby, I'll fill you up good, fuck a baby into you," He groaned, "Then you cant ever leave me."

You slowly came too with a moan, eyes adjusting to the darkened room. You were still moaning when you realised your dream wasn't a dream and you were currently impaled on a cock, a bigger cock than you'd ever felt in your life that was currently hammering into your pussy with no remorse.

"What..." You whimpered softly as your brain began to register what was happening.

The hand on your hip released and quickly covered your mouth, muffling your protests as Jake's lips pressed to your cheek.

"Shhh, it's just me." Jake whispered softly, "I know how bad you've been dreamin' of this."

His cock slid in and out of your pussy sloppily and you couldn't deny how good it felt. You even felt somewhat relieved that it was Jake and not some stranger.

"Left your porn to tempt me didn't you?" He grunted, "Knew I wouldn't be able to resist."

Your moan muffled in his palm as the impact of his cock on your cervix was pushing you towards climax and you couldn't deny you were enjoying every second he was buried inside of you.

"You're gonna fuckin' take it and when I'm done, you'll know you belong to me." He continued and your eyes rolled back in delight.

Jake's hips slapped against your ass and your hands clutched desperately at the sheets. His grunts and groans behind you only served to get you closer and closer to the blissful edge.

"Gonna keep you stuffed all day every day, even when you're sleeping." He groaned and you whimpered loudly against his palm, feeling tears prickle in your eyes.

"Cause I know how much you fuckin' want it." He continued.

You screamed suddenly into his hand as you came, pussy clamping down on his cock as your eyes rolled and stars danced across your vision.

"Oh fuck baby that's it, fuck oh fuck." Jake babbled against your cheek as he chased his release.

His thrusts became erratic while he groaned loudly, until he stilled at the hilt and you felt him fill you with his come. You both came down from your highs with heaving chests and harsh pants.

Jake made no attempt to remove his cock when he'd caught his breath, leaving it buried inside you as he released your mouth.

"Jake..." You whispered finally, unsure what you were going to even say. You enjoyed every blissful second even though you knew it was wrong.

"Shhh baby," He whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, "Go to sleep, I'm not going anywhere."

Everything Tag - @late-to-the-party-81

@the-wandering-wonder @rnurse-kole @chemtrails-club

He's so big and muscly, his biceps basically bursting out of the sleeves of his t-shirt and his eyes so bright and blue. And kind.

He reads off your home address from his phone, glancing over at you to confirm. 

You nod, still smiling as you toe off your heels with a relieved sigh, because they had been pinching your poor feet all night long. 

“The things we do to look good, huh?” Jake asks. 

You blink at him, slowly realizing you must have complained about your heels out loud. Your face warms as you nod again, squirming in your seat as you watch the way Jake’s arm muscles flex as he slots his phone back in its dashboard clip. 

And then he glances over at you, waiting. 

You just blink right back at him, confused. 

He laughs. “Seatbelt?“

“Oh!“ you squeak, reaching over your shoulder and grabbing the retractable belt and then struggling with it in a way that no functioning adult human ever should. 

When you start whining and muttering curses under your breath, Jake hesitantly reaches over to help. 

“Is it okay if I do this for you?” He asks, meeting your gaze with eyes so earnest you can only nod again, dumbfounded by how sweet he is. He easily clicks the seatbelt into place, giving you another smile. “There you go, all set.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, sinking back into your seat as Jake begins the drive to your home. 

“So were you out with friends?” He asks, pausing before adding, “Or your boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

You grin, shaking your head. “Friends, but they’re the worst. Our designated driver got hammered, and they wanted to go to another bar, and this one was already like the fourth one, and it’s usually not my scene at all but I’m trying to be more social even though it makes me low key miserable but the good thing is that I’ll probably not even remember most of this tomorrow, and also I don’t have a boyfriend or girlfriend. How about you?”

Jake blinks over at you as he stops at a red light, his eyes wide but amused at your long winded ramble. “Uh, no. No significant other for me.”

You’re about to make some really bad come on when you catch sight of a local fast food place and your eyes light up as you ask, “Ohh, can we stop there? Please? I’m so hungry. My awful friends promised me dinner but lied.”

The way your face purses in anger has Jake laughing and melting at the same time as he clicks on his turn signal and pulls into the fast food drive thru. 

“Oh my god, yay! You’re the best…” you trail off, your face scrunching as you realize you don’t actually know his name. 

“Jake.”

“Jake,” you echo back with a soft smile. “Hi.” You introduce yourself and he grins. 

“I know, it’s on the app,” he nods to his phone. “But it’s really nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, same.” 

You both just smile at each other for a moment before the car behind you honks their horn in impatience and Jake realizes he can pull up to the menu to order. 

“You get something, too, my treat!” You insist, grabbing your wristlet and fishing out your debit card. 

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to! Eating all by myself would be lame! Don’t make me be lame, Jake.”

You give him your best pleading, puppy dog face, and Jake cracks up, nodding as he turns to look at the menu. 

Soon, you’re parked out front of your home, the car long since turned off and your drive home complete, but you and Jake are slowly finishing your meals together, chatting like you’ve known each other for years, the both of you twisted in your seats and facing the other as you steal a few fries from his container because you already finished yours. 

“Thanks again for the ride,” you tell him, a little less drunk than when he first picked you up and starting to feel a little embarrassed by your behavior. 

Jake notices the shift in your demeanor, how you’ve gone a little quieter and struggle to meet his gaze. 

He offers you more fries and dips his head to catch your eyes when you glance up at him. 

“Thanks for dinner, and good company.”

“Oh god, I’m such a mess, all drunk and babbling and pushy and—“

“Perfect.”

Your mouth audibly snaps shut as your heart skips a beat and your face warms. Smiling shyly, you take a few more fries from Jake’s carton as he wiggles it at you. 

“Thanks.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you chew your food and Jake takes a sip from his drink, and then he’s glancing over at you, his face pinker than before as he says, “I know you're still kind of drunk, but I really hope you remember this, remember me, tomorrow.”

Without thinking, you reach for Jake’s hand, pressing your palms together and marveling at how right it feels when your fingers lace together with his. 

“I could never forget you.”

His smile is as happy as it is pleased as he watches you. 

“But also, I’m such a lightweight, so let’s swap numbers just in case.”

Snickering, Jake trades you his phone for yours and you swap digits before retrieving your phone from him and returning his own. 

“I’m gonna call you tomorrow and ask you out on a real date and I promise I actually will provide dinner, unlike your friends,” he says.

Laughing, you squeeze his hand, following the pull of your body and leaning closer to him as he does the same. 

“I’m going to hold you to that,” you murmur as the inches between you disappear and you’re suddenly breathing in the same air. 

“And I’m going to kiss you now,” Jake whispers. 

And he does. 

THESE TWO SWEET BEANS! HOW DARE!

—

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"By all rights we should kill you," he threatens coldly. "But we're not ones to waste a fertile womb. Provided anyone at this table wants you."

"I'll take her!" Jake excitedly announces.

"You know you'll have to share her," Bucky quietly growls as he caress your cheek.

"Yeah, once pregnancy is confirmed," Jake acknowledges. "But she's so cute and smart. Our babies are gonna be adorable!"

Bucky chuckles at that as silent tears pour from your eyes. You know it's pointless to argue, fight, yell. Not if you want to stay alive. The way they're treating you like cattle, not a person, just reinforces the idea that no one would hesitate to put a bullet in your brain.

"Are there any objections?" Steve asks the table. "Hal? Cole? She worked under you first."

"No objections," they both state.

"She's all yours, Jake."

And with that, Jake and Bucky led you back to the security area they operated from and lived in. It was much more spacious than the apartment you'd shared with four other women.

The security area was rumored to be big but extra cramped because of all the surveillance equipment and weaponry needed. Now you know it's a large space with plenty of room. A boon for being in charge and keeping the secrets. They probably started the rumors about it being extra cramped.

"We've had a space set aside for the day we got a wife," Jake beams. "It'll be a section of the apartment just for you and the babies!"

You sniffle and his smile drops just a little.

"Hey, hey, this doesn't have to be all bad," he coos. "You were going to end up as part of the breeding program eventually. But with me and Bucky you'll be even more comfortable. We've got access to all of the chocolate!"

Bucky moves behind you, sandwiching you between the two men, making sure you feel how much weaker your are than them.

"We've been so hungry for our turn," he groans in your ear. "And you bring yourself to us. Very serendipitous."

"H...how does...How does this work?" you stutter, hating yourself for giving in, grateful to yourself for staying alive.

"You take care of us, we take care of you," Jake answers cheerfully, picking up on your resignation.

Bucky's hands start roaming. "Talk later," he growls with a small nip to your earlobe.

"I...I thought...only Jake..."

"For the first pregnancy, yeah, I'm the only one who gets to use your pussy," Jake explains.

"But you've got other holes," Bucky adds. "And I can still use my tongue to make you feel so good."

Your breath hitches and Jake the opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat. You fight the impulse to pull away. Self-preservation and a desire to be taken care of, kicking in.

When Jake pulls away he starts pulling up your shirt. You raise your arms to help him as Bucky starts working your belt to get your pants off.

"I knew those tits would be perfect," Jake breathes before mouthing one of your nipples and fondling the other.

With your pants and underwear off, Bucky kneels as he starts kneading your ass. The cold of his metal hand startling you.

"Feel so good, doll," he comments. "So warm and soft. Gonna get even softer when you're carrying our babies."

"Your tits are gonna be so big," Jake groans.

Bucky pushes your legs apart and forces you on your toes, further exposing your pussy to him.

"Please," you whimper.

"Please what?" Jake answers, hands never leaving your breasts.

"I think she's liking the attention," Bucky teases as his fingers run through your folds. "How long's it been, Doll?"

"Since the before time," you confess, face burning with embarrassment.

"That long?" Jake blurts.

"I...I didn't want to risk..." you can't finish your sentence but they understand what you were trying to say.

"God, you're so cute," Jake smirks. "We should get you into bed so Bucky can get a proper taste."

You're practically thrown onto the bed, landing with a soft "oomph". Bucky adds to the disorientation by immediately diving into between your legs and licking a stripe up your pussy. Jake settles himself behind you, propping up your head so can't look away from Bucky's eyes rolling back in pleasure as he tastes you.

Jake starts fondling your breasts again as he leans close to your ear, "just lay back and enjoy. We want this to be good for you. Want you to enjoy taking us whenever we want to use one of your holes."

His words make you shiver and Bucky pulls away just enough to stick a couple fingers in you. "I think she likes the idea," he teases. "You want to be our perfect slut? You like the idea of getting used by us?" His fingers find a spot that makes you yelp and roll your hips.

"I think she likes being used," Jake concurs. "How's she tasting?"

"So sweet," Bucky grins before taking your clit into his mouth.

"We've gotta memorize your taste, cutie," Jake explains. "Only so many pregnancy tests these days so the more tastes we get of you, the fewer tests we have to waste." Bucky's ministrations have you softly babbling and Jake chuckles. "Not that I think you'll mind."

As you cum, Bucky positions your legs around his head as laps up every drop.

You're given no time to recover before Jake takes his place between your legs. Bucky is palming himself through his pants while Jake starts gently nibbling your thighs. You reach out to Bucky and he smirks as he undoes his pants and takes out his cock. He kneels by your face and you start stroking him, gasping when Jake starts roughly eating you out.

Bucky groans appreciatively, "see if you can get me off before Jake makes you cum. I'm either cumming all over that cute face or down your throat."

You gasp and grip him tighter as Jake starts scissoring his fingers into you.

"How's her grip?" Jake groans.

"So good," Bucky breathes. "Gonna mess up her face at this rate."

"Mess up her face with tears when you throat fuck her," Jake mumbles before turning his attention to your clit.

Bucky hisses as he tries to control himself at the mental image. He starts fucking himself into your hand as Jake's fingers find that same spot that has you keening.

"Fuck she makes such pretty sounds, too," Bucky grunts. He stops your hand. "Open your mouth for me." You whimper but obey, making him groan.

"Let's make this easier for her," Jake interrupts. He manhandles you onto your front, lifting your hips to meet his crotch. "Lift yourself up on your hands, Cutie. It'll be easier to take him down your throat."

You must not move fast enough because Bucky grabs your hair and lifts you into position. He wastes no time pushing his cock as far down your throat as he can.

You're so focused on trying to breathe you don't hear Jake removing his trousers. He grips your hips almost painfully as he pushes his cock into you. Your eyes widen at the stretch but you angle yourself to better take him. You're too weak to fight, even if you wanted to.

"She feels so good," Jake grunts as slams into you again and again. "Don't know that I'll last long."

"Lucky her mouth feels good, otherwise I'd be tempted to break the agreement," Bucky growls.

You whimper around his cock and it pushes him over the edge. You struggle to breathe as your senses are filled with his salty spend.

"Fuck that was good," he breathes.

"I think she deserves a treat for that," Jake grunts.

Bucky nods in agreement and maneuvers himself so he can start playing with your clit, making you cry out.

"She's clenching so tight!" Jake exclaims, picking up his pace.

"Let go, Cutie," Bucky growls in your ear and your body obeys.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jake hisses as his seed spills into you.

After a few breaths, the two men take care of you. They work together to clean you up while not letting a single drop of Jake's cum go to waste. Their touches are surprisingly, mercifully, gentle. They dress you in one of Bucky's shirts and get you settled between them on the bed where you let yourself get lost in the merciful darkness of sleep.