Chapter Four

2005 Words
“I still don’t think I can do this, Rachel,” Ava said, stirring her coffee. She felt a little more confident after leaving Whipping Willows but the thought of wearing that outfit in public was still playing on her mind. “When’s your first shift?” Rachel asked, taking a sip of her cappuccino. “Tomorrow. I’m not ready.” “Will you ever be?” Ava paused her mindless stirring. Rachel had a point. Would she ever be ready? “What’s troubling you about it? You look stunning in your uniform. Is it that?” Taking a sip of her mocha, Ava mentally listed the things that worried her about her upcoming shift at The Bike Shed. I’m going to be half-naked. I’m too plain. I don’t know what to do. What if I get groped? What will Sophie think? With a sigh, she placed her cup on the café table and looked at Rachel. She was watching her, thoughtfully. “You’re going to counter everything I say, aren’t you?” “If you think there’s a counter-argument, honey, you’re stopping yourself from seeing the whole picture.” Ava picked up her teaspoon again, then paced it back on the table. “I’m going to be parading around, half-naked, for a start. “ Rachel smirked and Ava had the feeling she had known that would be coming. “Did you feel half-naked when you looked at yourself in the mirror?” Ava shook her head in answer, then rolled her eyes as she realised argument one had been squashed. “Okay, I concede on that one. I’m still too plain and innocent for this, though, and you can’t argue that one,” she told her, confidently. Rachel laughed, causing Ava to furrow her brows in confusion. “Are you trying to say that you’re too much of a geeky bookworm to play the role of a geeky bookworm?” Rachel asked with raised eyebrows. Hearing it from someone else mouth, made Ava aware of how ridiculous she sounded. She wasn’t being asked to be something she wasn’t, she was being asked to be herself. “I ain’t doing too well at this, am I? I can already see how stupid my next objection is going to sound. There’s no point telling myself that I don’t know what to do when I’ve been doing the same thing but in a different place, for the last three years, so you win that round, too.” “Any more? Think I might get a knockout,” Rachel laughed, as she picked her mug up. “Seriously though, it’s best to get this all out of the way beforehand because if you really don’t think you can do it, you don’t have to. I was terrified on my first shift and almost didn’t go back. Another woman sat me down and went through this same conversation. Made me realise I'd already been doing what I do, just under different circumstances. My second shift was a little easier, and my third, even more so. The Bike Shed has become my home, now, rather than a workplace.” “How did you get started? Sorry, that’s probably personal. I shouldn’t have asked,” Ava said. The regret of asking her question was clear in her voice, but Rachel just smiled, warmly. “It’s okay to ask, you know. Stripping has this bad vibe around it. A stigma, you know? You hear someone is a stripper or private dancer as some prefer to be called, and you think single mum trying to survive, or desperate woman trying to clear debts, or even groomed into prostitution. It’s not the case though, not always, anyway. I was a pole dancer at a nightclub. I was working and Gully happened to be there with a bunch of friends. He passed me his card and asked me to call. I had the same reservations as you. Granted, I was already a dancer but that was just something I was good at and was lucky enough to find a wage for doing it.” “What do your friends and family think?” Ava asked, and instantly regretted it as a flash of pain ran across Rachel’s face. “My parents don’t agree with it. They're quick to take money when they need it though, thinking I don’t know what they call me behind my back. In my line of work, you need a thick skin. Names and whatever else is water off a duck's back. Not everyone will support what I do, and that’s fine by me. I don’t do it for them. I do it for me. I’ve gained much more than money, for it and I wouldn’t change it for the world. Is that what’s troubling you? What your friends and family are going to think?” Ava nodded. It was more Sophie than her mum. She knew her mum wouldn’t bat an eyelid and would probably encourage it, if only for the money, but Sophie? Ava was sure she would be mortified at the thought of her pure and innocent friend working in a strip club. “You can always do what I did at first. Not tell them. At least until you know whether it’s for you, or not.” Picking up her cup, Ava looked out of the window. It had started to rain, making shoppers dash in and out of doorways. “I guess you’re right. They don’t have to know until I want them to. The final objection is touching. I don’t think I can handle being grouped left, right and centre. That’s what happens, right?” Ava expected Rachel to laugh, or smile, or something, but her face was filled with awe. “Oh, honey. Is that what you think happens? No wonder you’re like a deer in headlights. I don’t know about other places. It might happen. It might not. Gully runs a tight ship and won’t stand for any of that bullshit. Honestly, there are cameras covering every inch of that floor and if he gets even a whiff of foul play, he’s on it like a rocket. The clients know the rules and keeping your hands to yourself unless otherwise invited, is rule number one. Steve, one of the security guys, is like a bloody hawk. Eyes everywhere and sees everything. Every woman in that club is treated like a princess. If you’re really concerned about it though, I’m on a shift tonight. Why don’t you come and take a look at the club during working hours? It might help settle your nerves. I’ll even give you a dance, too.” “I might just take you up on that, sweet cheeks,” Ava told her, before bursting into a fit of laughter. “That's better. Drink up,” Rachel told her, putting her empty mug on the table. “We still have more shopping to do.” . . . . . “Glad you could join us,” Gully shouted into Ava's ear. “Let me show you around, properly. Ava nodded, grabbed her drink and followed Gully across the club floor, her eyes darting to and fro, taking in the sheer wonder of what was happening around her. Dancers snaked around poles in ways that should have defied gravity. Waitresses giggled as they served drinks and champagne to the waiting suits at the tables, and giggled some more as notes were handed to them. Ava watched as a waitress tucked the money into a stocking and blew a kiss to a middle-aged woman, who caught it and held it to her chest. As Gully made his way to the spiral staircase near the secretary's desk, she saw Clara frowning over the rim of her glasses, pointing a riding crop at two of the widest, and strongest looking men, Ava had ever seen. Ava stopped and stared as Clara pointed the crop at one of the men, and then flicked it upwards, beckoning him to stand. The man, who was built like a bull, flashed a beaming smile, and stood, turned away from Clara, leaned forward and hitched his blazer up, exposing his butt. Clara stepped forward in her insanely high stilettos, bent her legs slightly and raised her crop into the air while asking the man what he had done to deserve detention. “I haven’t done my homework, Headmistress,” he told Clara. Ava's jaw dropped open at the sound of the bulls meek voice, then dropped open some more as Clara whacked him with the crop and a throaty growl left the mans throat. “And you, boy,” Clara asked, turning to the second giant, who instantly stood and copied the bull's stance. “I asked for a bathroom pass, Headmistress. Clara tapped the giant's ass with the crop, three times. “Now, I except no more nonsense from you two. Do you hear?” “Yes, Headmistress,” they said in unison, before laughing and walking off. Ava, following Gully again in complete shock, was led into his office and took a seat at his desk. “Not what you were expecting?” Ava was stunned. Too stunned for words, and opted for shaking her head as a response, which sent Gully into a roar of laughter. “The size of those dudes and they just let her do that? Then laughed? I just don’t believe it.” “Not everyone ends up in detention. We have codes and if you want to see Clara, you use one of the codes and get a detention slip. It’s costly, but they love it. Rachel told me your concerns. I thought it would be a good idea to show you the cameras and then you can chat with some of the dancers and waitresses, even Clara if you’d like.” “Thank you. You’ve both been more than accommodating and im being nothing but a pain in the arse. I expected naked women and drooling punters with wandering hands, but it’s not like that at all. How the hell do those women hang upside down like bats on that bloody pole? I can’t imagine the muscles needed for what they do. It’s insane but mesmerisingly beautiful at the same time. I could watch them all day long.” “And that, my dear, is exactly what our clients pay for. It’s not about s*x or degrading women. The dancers do what they do because they enjoy it and yes, they earn well from it but it’s mainly for enjoyment. They don’t take their clothes off. We don’t do touching unless invited to. Everything is out in the open for the safety of the dancers and our clients, too. We don’t even allow them to have their car keys, just in case they overdo it on the drinks. We have a chauffeur service, as part of our leisure chain so our members get drunk as a skunk and a limousine back home at the end of the night.” Ava took in the wall of screens, each showing a different view of the club, from every possible angle, and felt her earlier worries ease a little. Last hurdle, here I come.
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