Chapter 1 - The Ecdysiast
Definition of Ecdysiast: A stripper: a performer who provides erotic entertainment by undressing to music to arouse sexual desire by displaying the naked body in motion.
I'm not going to dwell on this for too long because I have work to do and my shift is coming up soon, but I just can't stop hating him. I can't stop despising what I've become because of him. But, I still love him you know? It's twisted. He keeps me afloat and I accept it. But, sometimes I wonder why yet I can't ever walk away...
"Diane where the fuck are you?"
That would be him, calling out to me as I sit in front of the vanity mirror in the lavish room he's housed for us. Despite our work criteria, he's been more than generous with us. We all have our own bed, clothes; there are tons of makeup which we have to apply every night to remain attractive to his customers, even over our bruised and battered bodies for any chance that we ever piss him off in any way...
"Diane! You go on in ten; do not let me find you looking at yourself in that fucking mirror again..." He snarls his voice harsh and unrelenting as I hear footsteps nearby.
Sighing, I bow my head casting my vision to my arm, zooming in on the fresh bruise he left there only this morning when I decided to talk back to him and explain that I needed tonight off to attend to Courtney.
Unfortunately his words and I quote were: "The little bastard can wait for you. She should know the only reason she's not out on the street with you is because I supply you with what you need to stay afloat." Disrespectful and uncaring right?
Yeah, it was. I cursed him out for it too forgetting who I was dealing with for a split second. That is, until the back of his hand connected to my cheek to shut me up. Then, he gripped my arm and dragged me into the backroom. I'm not even going to say what happened back there. I've become numb to it all.
I just know, this is not the life I want to live but somehow, I'm still in it. I really don't love myself. I've never gotten close to anyone because sadly enough I'm desperately in love with him my - well - I don't know what he is to me.
I would say he's my boss but, that's just - He's not.
It's a fucked up love let me tell you.
No respectful person would ever do what I'm doing. What we're doing - as I look around at all the curious faces glaring at me. They're his girls. We're all his girls, but I'm the only one I think he has any soft side for. That is if and when he ever chooses that side which he hardly ever does.
I never understood it and neither do the others. Some of the girls even bitch at me, thinking I get paid more than they do, but I don't, and I never will. He doesn't care about me like that. He doesn't pick favorites. I guess I'm just his release if you want to call it that. God, I hate my life. I really want out. I do, but I just can't shake this hold he has on me and he knows it.
He's a cocky bastard about it too. He always drops the line of ‘you would have nothing and nowhere to go if you left Diane' and I always believe him. I believe him because this is all I've ever known for years now.
I know I've made some terrible decisions in my life and this results in them. I dropped out of high school with no real education. I left my parents home when I found out they were getting a divorce because I despised my dad for ever cheating on my mom and her for ever being so stupid.
I guess I'm pretty fucked in the head. I've been on my own ever since, struggling from job to job trying to get by. Then, one faithful day, I walked in here. It intrigued me to no end since people talked about this place so much. One of the girls I worked with at the supermarket dragged me here one night with her and her boyfriend.
The sad part about this little story is: I never left.
When he came out at the end of the show on stage and I looked up at him into those beautiful glassy blue eyes I instantly fell in love. He was gorgeous, like a forbidden fantasy. The way he carried himself screamed confidence though I later pegged it as cockiness. His attire was a straight replica of Sinatra with the fedora hats he always wore and suits to match. I later found out he was indeed a Frank Sinatra fan so it made sense.
I think what really trapped me that night was his smile. He has a beautiful innocent smile even though he's anything but. Then he looked over at me. His eyes were fixated on me for a good portion of his speech as he licked his lips slowly, sensually. I think when I shifted uncomfortably in my seat he knew I was his.
I'm assuming this because after the show, he came over to the bar where my friend and I were seating to talk to me. She was completely smitten with him, stating that I had to be special because he never came out into the crowd at anytime.
But, well, I guess I was different. I thought I was different. He led me to believe that. He wanted to know about me. He wanted to offer me a different lifestyle. He said I was exactly what he was looking for. He watered down his business and made it look appealing. Shit, people would do anything for money right? Yeah, I was desperate at the time so I ended up being one of those persons. His offer was too sweet to decline.
But now, I'm regretting it. I'm jaded now, tainted into this life that I can't get out of for fear of what he might do to me and because I don't know anything else outside of these walls or how to survive on my own without him.
I really do hate my life...
"Diane! What the fuck!"
Snapping my head in his direction, I'm greeted with a seething Justin. Yes, his name is Justin incase I forgot to mention that. He doesn't look pleased at all. His face is red, his eyes burning a hole into me and his breathing is erratic. I'm guessing someone pissed him off and he'll maybe take it out on me like he always does.
Before I can find my voice to respond, I'm being yanked off my chair and shoved harshly into a nearby wall. Cringing on the impact, I moan in pain when I feel the back of my head throbbing.
He has a tight hold around my neck as his icy blues pierce my brown ones with a maniacal glimmer in his eyes.
"I'm so sick and fucking tired of going through this with you. You are the only one who doesn't follow their schedule. What the fuck is your problem?" He spits furiously, his words emotionless. He doesn't care to know my problem. He's just angry. He's always angry.
"I...I'm..." Choking on my words since I'm trying to take in air, he tightens his hold around my neck, smirking when he sees how I'm winded almost instantly, my mind hazed.
"Just because you're the only girl I fuck in here doesn't give you the right to think you have leverage. I can easily change that Diane. You're not that important. But you need me, so you need to get your shit together." He hisses his breath hot on my neck.
"All I asked was for the night off to..." But I swallow the rest of my words when his eyes grow wide.
"Don't make me do something about that mouth of yours." He growls, moving closer and pressing his lower half against my bare thigh so I can feel his growing arousal.
Shutting my eyes tightly, I will away the tears. God, he's a sick twisted pervert. I can't even believe he gets off on this shit.
"You're an asshole." I snap, wriggling under his hold but stopping suddenly when he grips under my chin harshly.
"That I am sweetheart, but it's not hard for me to snap that little neck of yours and fix this problem. Don't fucking test me Di." I hate when he calls me that, but I know he's true to his word. You have no idea who he is or how ruthless he can be, but I'm sure you'll find out soon enough. "Now, you have a show to do so get your ass out there. Time is money but you fail to realize that. If you keep this up, I'm going to have to seriously punish your ungrateful ass." He chides and I just whimper under his hold.
I can feel the dizziness taking over with my lack of sufficient oxygen. I'm sure I'll pass out soon if he doesn't let me go - but he does. He breaks his hold on me in an instant, backing away from me, still glaring with a disgusted look on his face.
As my eyes flutter a bit, I heave leaning forward before I realize one of the girls is quickly grabbing some of her belongings to exit the dressing room in fear of disturbing this little confrontation. Oh, well that would explain why he let me go. He's such an asshole. I'm wondering if he treats any of the other girls the way he treats me. They all get their fair share of Justin's temper, but I think I take the cake. I really do despise him. I despise him for ever trapping me into this lifestyle.
"Get the fuck out there Diane. I'm not going to tell you again." Giving me a once over, he scoffs while folding his arms across his chest. "And cover that shit up." He points to my neck. And with that said, he turns on his heels and leaves, slamming the door shut on his way out.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I wince in pain when I touch the now red hand print on my neck. Plopping down in my chair, I quickly grab some makeup to cover the mark up before I hear someone announcing "Justin's girls" on the microphone.
Sighing exasperatingly, I grab my feathered head piece and stand to my feet before giving myself another quick glance in the mirror.
"Showtime..." I whisper, the words leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth as I amble to the exit.
What's worse than being Justin's punching bag? Being one of his ‘girls' which is a nice way of saying we're basically his prostitutes/strippers in the dignified sense of the word that he can pimp out to his customers if the price is right. I try to mask it by calling myself an ecdysiast but it still means the exact same damn thing.
As I make it unto the stage wearing next to nothing, seeing all the bright lights and the numerous males in the audience hooting and hollering, I can't help but wonder what life would be like if I never walked through those doors of Justin's establishment...