with pleasure. He never had sex with the strippers who worked for him. He knew if he did that, then they would lose all respect. They would never follow his orders. In their minds, he would be no different from any other trick in the club. Strippers were some very strange characters. In order to keep his operation running smoothly, Tommy made money with the strippers and fucked elsewhere.
First and foremost, Tommy was about that dollar. He was always looking for that fresh face, or a young chick to add new blood to the club. In the strip club scene, old was bad and new was good. Who was Tommy to buck that trend? It was a time-tested theory for every strip joint in the country. It worked time and time again. There was nothing an old trick loved more than a new hoe.
“Sorry I’m late,” he stated. “I had to make a little run to the other side of town and everything. I hope y’all can forgive me. I appreciate y’all waiting for me.”
“No problem,” Dee-Dee answered.
Tommy was a big man powerfully built. He had thick arms and a broad chest. He stood 6’4” and weighed in at 260 pounds. He had an imposing physical presence about him that seemed to demand respect from everyone. Tommy wasn’t the type one would want to bump into in a dark alley. He crushed gravel beneath his feet as he walked toward the door. He was a heavyweight in every sense of the word.
He quickly undid the lock to the club, opened the door, and deactivated the security alarm. The girls followed him right in. Even when he flipped on the lights, the club was still dim; there was just enough light to see. From the looks of things, someone had been cleaning up last night. The chairs were atop the tables and the countertops of the bar were clean.
“Follow me,” he said. “We going back to my office.”
The girls did just what they were told. His office was right behind the counter.
The lighting in the office was a lot better. Now Tommy could see exactly what he was getting. One look at these two and he knew he had two winners. If he didn’t know outside, he knew now. Mentally, Tommy kicked himself; he wished he had one of his partners there with him to see what he was about to see. He would have called them but there was no time for that.
“The show must go on,” he thought.
The office was small but it was nicely furnished with a desktop computer, printer and monitor. There was also a large wooden desk and three chairs. Tommy sat behind the desk and reclined in a leather chair, looking every bit like the boss he was.
“Alright, ladies. I guess you know what you’re here for? Correct?”
“Yeah,” Dee-Dee replied.
“How about you?” He looked at Shantell. “You ain’t said two words yet. You alright?”
Tommy was concerned by Shantell’s lack of verbal communication. This business wasn’t for the timid or weak. Only the strong survived here. He had seen the strip club chew up and spit out so many weak strippers. Before one knew it, they were either full-fledged prostitutes or strung out on drugs. One had to be strong to handle the day-to-day bullshit that went on in the club. Taking your clothes off in front of complete strangers, without any shame, wasn’t normal at all.
Auditioning the girls was Tommy’s way of weeding out the weak. It didn’t do him any good to have a stripper quit on him in the middle of a packed house. If a potential stripper couldn’t cut it here, in his office, then she certainly couldn’t cut it later. So why waste his time or theirs? Tommy was going to cut straight to the chase right now.
“I’m alright,” Shantell admitted. “Don’t mind me. I ain’t too much on talking.”
“Well, we gotta get you up outta that bad habit. That ain’t good for business, yours or mine. You understand?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll talk when I have to. I’m about my business. Believe me,” Shantell assured him. “It’s not a problem.”
“Okay, okay. That’s what I like to hear. I was just
Andreas J. Köstenberger, Charles L Quarles