Chapter 3: Stripper Wear
1099 Words
The pungent smell of Pine Sol overwhelmed Laurie's senses. She used to like the smell but no longer. Her surroundings were eerie and unfamiliar, dimly lit by near burnt-out bulbs in two table lamps that stood on a large metal work desk.
She touched the back of her head and felt a massive bump. Quickly, she checked her fingertips for blood but there was none.
“Where am I?" she croaked and quietly cleared her throat. She was gingerly feeling her scalp for a break in the skin. It had to be split open. Only that could explain the pain.
Satisfied that she wasn't bleeding to death right now, she lowered her hand and looked directly at her kidnappers. The boss sat sprawled in a chair, leaning back nonchalantly, and gazing at her with hooded eyes. He was smaller and slimmer than he'd appeared in the car.
She also recognized the two who had sat beside her, and the driver, a large man with a bulbous nose and a long scar across his cheek. His scar made her think she should never underestimate him. They meant business. Of what sort, she'd reluctantly find out.
“The reason you're here," the boss said, dusting off the shoulder of his maroon-colored dress shirt, “is to repay Gail Winter's, your mother's debts, and in order to do so, you will dance at the club."
He leaned forward now and enunciated carefully, “You will strip, you will make money, you will repay me, and only when you have done so, can you leave. Of course, you're welcome to stay and keep working for me forever. Call me Master from now."
He grinned, revealing straight white teeth. So straight they could've been dentures. “Just kidding, call me John."
Was that a joke too?
The driver snickered. She wanted to rip the smirk off his face.
A rapid succession of knocks on the door prevented her reply and everyone turned to look at the scantily dressed woman, who may as well have been nude, strut barefoot into the room turning to close the door behind her.
Laurie's eyes widened as she saw the back view was more immodest than the front…and what were all those little straps for?
The woman, clearly a stripper, handed a cloth bag to the boss who didn't bother to open it but handed it to Laurie. Reluctantly, she took the bag from John and put it next to her on the couch. She didn't want to know what was inside. It was easy to guess.
John sighed. “Open it," he said with an impatient wave of his hand.
Gulping, she grabbed the bag and spotted a tiny scrap of cloth inside. Her heart almost stopped when she saw that it was in apricot, her favorite color. Was this a coincidence and if not, what else did they know about her?
Pulling out the cloth, she held it up and her dark eyebrows slammed together, her face twisted into a look of unbridled disgust. The wispy bandeau top was basically transparent, and the attached thong looked like it would snap apart from the faintest gust of wind.
She shook her head vehemently. “No way, I'm not wearing this." She threw it to the ground but didn't have the nerve to stamp on it.
The stripper looked horrified and backed away as if expecting violence.
“Pick it up," John warned.
Knowing she was outnumbered, Laurie reached forward and picked it up.
“Now put it on."
“No." There was no way she would wear this. Not even if she was alone in her apartment with curtains drawn.
“I'll give you two choices. Put that on now or get locked up in a brothel and service 20 men a day, every day." His eyes glinted with anger.
Her hands shook and she briefly closed her eyes wishing this nightmare away. When her eyes opened, she was still here, and so were they. She stood up. “Fine. Where's the changing room?"
There was a ripple of laughter. Even the stripper looked amused.
John motioned broadly with his arms. “Right here. Make it a good show." He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
They had already helped her with her winter coat, but she still had on her sweater, slacks, and socks she'd worn to work that day. Glancing quickly about the windowless room, she noted the one door and the three people that stood between, plus two close by.
What could she do? The “bend and snap"? An uppercut to the throat? Her mother's advice eluded her now.
A flash of metal caught her eye. John had pulled out a butterfly knife and was playing with it, tauntingly.
Trembling, she removed her sweater. She unzipped her pants and let them drop. It was cold standing in her underwear. She'd never been naked in front of anyone before. Not since she was a toddler.
John motioned at her with the blade. “Go on," he said tightly.
“Please don't do this!" she begged with tears in her eyes.
“Now!"
She reached back and unclasped her bra. Her breasts bounced gently as they were released. She was about to bend over to remove her underwear when one of her kidnappers commented, “Told you the stupid ones have big t**s."
John held up his hand and the man instantly went quiet.
Taking a deep breath, she removed the last of her underwear and stood in front of her kidnappers completely naked except for her socks.
“Now turn around and take off your socks. Make it slow and sexy," John said with a wink.
She turned, bent over, and removed her socks as quickly as she could. Spinning back around, she glared defiantly at her sick and perverted captors.
“Perfect," John breathed. “You're gorgeous. Truly a beautiful woman."
She sank to her knees and loudly sobbed, “Please let me go!"
John's face hardened. “Not until you pay what you owe."
“This isn't my debt," Laurie protested, unable to control the flood of tears streaming down her face.
“Would you prefer your dear mother be in your position?"
She shook her head frantically. “No, neither of us! We can pay, just give us time!"
He nodded swiftly. “That's right, you can pay, and you will!"
Realizing she couldn't argue, she hesitantly asked, “H-how much does she owe?" and his answer was a door slam in her face.
“A hundred thousand dollars."
- Writer
