3

The lights dimmed, and Elisa stepped onto the stage, positioning herself beside the pole and touching it with one hand. The music started, and so did her movements.

Every time she was on that metal pole, she felt like there was no one else or nothing else around.

She had learned that dance a couple of years ago because they wanted a new hobby to keep her fit. She detested the gym and strenuous physical activities, but when dance was involved, everything became synonymous with fun.

She also couldn't help but feel nostalgic; she missed everything she had left behind, and she feared getting used to that life and preferring it for the money.

As expected, the applause from the men began to make itself heard. She unraveled her final pose to stand up and descend from the stage gracefully because it was time to collect money from them.

She had plenty of time for that from that moment on because all the girls came to dance on the small platforms. So she had to look as seductive as possible to receive good tips while her colleagues began to receive theirs.

The main shows occurred every hour, and that day it was Mikaela's, Julia's, and hers.

After that, she went to the bar to drink with Miki, who had been the first to perform.

"I think I'm already feeling dizzy," Elisa confessed, laughing, because after those two tequila margaritas, she could already feel her cheeks tingling and her vision a bit blurry.

"Then go to the bathroom to pee, Eli," the dark-haired girl laughed.

"No, I don't want to. The shoes are going to betray me," she pretended to pout.

Of course, she wasn't going to risk the embarrassment of falling because of those high heels she had to wear out of obligation.

"Come on, come. I'll go first," the girl encouraged her to serve as a guide. She took her hand, and that's how they started walking.

"Hey..." a guy her height, thanks to the heels he was wearing, stopped her from her wrist, a man with black hair, slim, and a serious face.

He was very handsome, so Miki forced her to smile at him with a flick of her eyebrows.

"Hey..." she replied back, waiting for her friend to leave because she was dying of embarrassment to stay alone with that guy who didn't inspire much trust.

"Come, sit..." the man made her sit next to him, immediately taking hold of her waist to start talking to her in her ear.

A shiver ran down her body; she wasn't used to having that kind of closeness with men, and being held like that seemed to be her weak point.

"Can I make you mine?" he spoke into her ear, smiling devilishly and brushing his thick lips against her exposed skin.

Her skin tingled, and as a reflex, she shrugged her shoulder beneath her ear to protect herself from that new invasion.

The alcohol was sweet, and it made her feel very good under the attentions of that man, whose name she didn't know, and when she was under the influence of the drink, she liked to play.

"I'll give you this..." he showed her a roll of large bills, holding them up from below.

It was a good amount, but she wasn't a prostitute to accept such an offer. She could feel insulted, and she could tell him off for it, of course, that's what she would have done if she had been sober, but she wasn't...

"Give me five times that amount, and I'll accept," she finished with a smile, looking at him challengingly and amused.

She was certain that with that, he wouldn't bother her anymore, but the guy widened his smile and backed away from her a bit, taking her chin with one hand to brush her lips with his.

"Done," he looked at her satisfied, taking her arm again to lead her to the manager.

He knew it wasn't a brothel, but he had the power to turn it into one for a night and with just one girl if he wanted to.

Elisa froze and didn't react, even after finding herself caught in that hand that easily led her to Mikaela's boyfriend.

Did they really make a deal? She didn't want to...

"But Sokolov, you know she's not..."

"Yes, she is. For me she is, and we made a deal, right, sweetie?" he pulled her closer to him.

She only looked at the manager, with no particular expression, still stunned, while the dark-haired guy showed the money to the club manager, placing it in Elisa's bra, right between her breasts.

There wasn't much to argue about; it was clear, and even clearer the fact that she couldn't refuse or the whole night would go to hell, even for him if luck wasn't on his side. So she simply gestured with her head towards the available booth.

As they reached one of the booths, the girl tensed.

The guy pushed her against the wall next to the door and cornered her, leaving one arm beside her head to prevent her from escaping or maybe just to appear more dominant in front of a seemingly submissive girl.

He brought his missing hand to tilt her chin up, looking at her approvingly, caressing her full lower lip with his thumb, then letting his fingers descend. He played with just a few touches on the skin that her neckline exposed, then descending to her abdomen.

He smiled as he touched her, watching as she trembled and her chest heaved.

"You're too sensitive..." he brought his hand to the edge of her golden leather panties. He adored it when the dancers wore those simple yet generous clothes. "A moment ago, you were very bold," he whispered against her lips, slipping his hand under the panties, caressing her intimate area.

Elisa was scared, agitated, and the alcohol made her body tingle pleasantly from that small invasion of her privacy, but she snapped out of it when the man started to remove her clothes; that couldn't happen.

"No... No, please," she began to push him away from her shoulders.

"Are you insane?" he came closer again to continue his task, this time more invasive, more aggressive.

"No, I don't want to!" she pushed him away again from her shoulders, now more composed and determined. "Let me go, I don't want to!"

"Enough!" he grabbed her shoulders and slammed her back against the wall.

"I'm a virgin..." she blurted out in pain; that blow weakened her, making her feel like crying.

The dark-haired man laughed upon hearing that.

"And why should that matter to me?" he grabbed her shoulders again and threw her onto the couch, ready to perform any sexual pose. "Consider yourself paid."

He finally removed her panties, spreading her legs and looking at what was between them. He smiled again in that devilish way.

So, that's what a virgin vagina looks like?

"I paid a fortune, and it's much more than just virginity."

"No, stop! Stop!" Elisa closed her legs again, kicking him in the chest and abdomen with her feet. "Keep your money, I don't want it!" She took the roll of bills from her bra and threw it in his face.

If there was one thing Kirill hated, it was being insulted by a woman, especially if that woman didn't deserve his respect. So, without hesitation, he slapped her, once again pinning her down.

"Shut up, you whore."

Elisa cried to find herself in that situation, hating everything around her and despising that insult.

She cried louder because she felt like a doll; her strength was useless compared to that of that man, and she didn't want that to happen; she was very afraid.

The dark-haired man began to undress, leaving his large belt with a powerful and thick gold buckle.

"Stop those hands, they bother me!" He grabbed them to tie them with that belt.

Those futile blows were irritating her back and shoulders.

"Enough, let me go... I don't want this, please..."

He didn't care; by that point, he was too aroused, and the feeling of abusing her only turned him on more. He began to bite and lick her neck, stopping at her breasts to torture her nipples with his tongue and lips.

She felt disgusting and cheap; she had been really foolish to play that way.

She tensed up and kicked again because he wasn't just acting on her nipples; his intrusive hand was penetrating her.

"No!" she screamed. Why wasn't anyone listening to her? Was that man so important that no one wanted to help her? "I don't want that!" She began to hit him forcefully in the head with her tied hands.

She stopped feeling his attentions and realized she couldn't get her hands off the belt or off the head of that horrible man.

She became terrified and froze, looking at her hands, which were being covered by a small trickle of blood; the sharp part of the buckle, the one that secures the belt, was embedded in her skull.

"No..." her voice was choked; she felt like she couldn't speak. "No..." she began to struggle to free her hands from his head, managing to do so and causing a large spray of blood to splash onto her.

Elisa became even more terrified, crawling out from under his body with some difficulty, full of panic, and kneeling beside the sofa to examine him.

"Hey..." she shook him, but to no avail. "Wake up..." she pleaded, crying again. "I killed him, I killed him..." she brought her bloody hands to her face, breaking down in tears.

Her virginity wasn't worth someone's life, no matter how repulsive he was. She had accidentally killed someone, and she couldn't bear it. She couldn't believe it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she said through her hands, feeling that warm blood that was slowly starting to cool.

Or was it her tears? She couldn't tell anymore.