Page 47 of Scarred King
I tell him about the southern town I grew up in, about my decision to study physics and about my dream to become a researcher and then a professor. When I stop talking, I notice that he’s writing something in a small black notebook.
“Are you writing down what I said?” I ask in confusion.
He raises his head and smiles. “No. Why, did you say something important?”
“Were you even listening to me?” I mutter angrily.
“I lost you in that small town in the South.” He chuckles and I roll my eyes and groan. It’s going to be a long night.
The car stops and the bodyguard opens the door for us. Ralph gets out and stretches his hand out to me.
“You’re taking me to our bar?” I ask in horror.
“Of course not.” He takes me by the hand and walks around the large industrial building with me. “I am taking you to the club.” We stop behind a gathering of men in suits, and to my horror I realize that we’re going to a strip club. He walks past the long line, and stops in front of the bouncer. I can’t understand how, in all the time I’ve worked on the other side of the building, I've never realized that here on the back, there’s such lively and dynamic nightlife.
The bouncer moves the rope at the entrance aside and opens the black door for us.
“Wow!” my mouth opens in surprise. It looks like an exclusive nightclub. At the center, there is a stage surrounded by black leather couches and on some additional levels there are more couches and red leather armchairs. Waitresses who look like Playboy bunnies are running around the male clientele and the customers are drinking, eating and talking. He pulls me towards one of the upper levels and we sit down on a long corner sofa.
I look around me and see that apart from the waitresses, I’m the only woman in this place. “Why did you bring me here?”
“You told me I should take you somewhere I enjoy going to,” he replies indifferently.
“But…but…I meant…” I stutter and fall immediately silent as a tall girl approaches the main stage. Her face is covered by a tiger mask and she is wearing a flowing leopard-skin cape.
“Don’t worry. You'll enjoy this too.” He drapes his arm on the back of my seat and I can’t stop myself from staring at the flexible dancer in front of me. She is writhing sensually on the pole, wrapping her legs around it and pulling herself upwards.
“Ohhh… that doesn’t look very safe,” I mutter as she flings her body downwards and is held suspended by her crossed legs only. “If she falls, she’ll break her head.”
Ralph laughs and I can’t tear my eyes away.
“What a surprise,” I hear Mike’s amused voice and I turn to face his ginger head. “He finally allowed you in here?”
“Who?” I ask and turn back to watch the acrobat who has thrown her leopard-skin cape on the stage.
“Liam.” he answers, and sits down next to Ralph. “I heard that he gave strict orders not to let you upstairs or in here.”
“She is on a date with me,” Ralph answers instead of me and I glance at Mike. He looks even more amused than before.
“Then I'll spoil you tonight.” He gets up, and while I am still engrossed in the amazing performance taking place in front of me, he returns with a glass of wine for me and a glass of whiskey for Ralph. He sits down with us, and I can’t stop myself from asking him questions.
“Isn’t this supposed to be a strip club? Why is she still dressed?”
Mike laughs. “Have you ever seen a man who gets horny when a woman takes her clothes off on their first date?”
“Yes.” Ralph and I chorus together.
“Ah,” he scratches his head. “Well, maybe that’s not the best example.” The girl leaves the stage and the host announces that her name is Linda, a Middle-Eastern princess. He calls out name after name together with a short description of the girls as one after the other gets on the stage to enthusiastic rounds of applause. “Anyway,” he explains, “we warm up the atmosphere. You can see all the strippers perform and soon they’ll start mingling with the crowd.”
“To waitress?” I ask.
“Not exactly,” he laughs. “What you saw before was the main act. In a minute, there’ll be some more acts on stage.” He settles back in his seat. “We put a lot of effort into our shows. We have choreographers who come in early in the evening to work with the girls on their routines and we have two full-time tailors for all the costumes that you’ll see here tonight,” he says proudly.
“Wow,” I study the girls prancing on the stage, removing their capes and coming down to the audience in what looks like minimal bikinis. “So, when do they take all their clothes off?” I ask again, and this time Ralph laughs.
“Don’t worry,” the German answers, removing his gray jacket. His white button-down shirt is tight over his muscular chest and his long, muscular arms. “In a minute you will see more boobs than you've ever seen in your whole life.”
I sip my wine and follow the girls with my eyes. They linger by the couches, wiggling their butts and giggling. A guy sitting in an armchair to our left gestures to one of the girls and two seconds later she is sitting on his lap. She grinds her hips back and forth in time with the music and her chest rubs up against his. I feel like I’m invading their privacy, but I can’t tear my eyes away. The triangles of her bikini top are rising upwards and her impressive and artificial breasts are bare, right in front of his mouth. He strokes her hips, kisses her neck and grabs her breasts with his hands.