I Want Her

Chapter 6

"Where the hell have you been, Ivy? Where's your phone? I called you like a million times already," Tim blurted.

"Chillax, Tim. I was somewhere," Ivy replied.

"Where?"

"What exactly do you want from me? I need to get to class." Ivy took her leave.

Ivy didn't have much to do. She went from restaurants to libraries to retail centers looking for a part-time job, but all to no avail. After a long day of being rejected by everyone, her eyes caught sight of a post: "Need Quick Cash - Call 1403." Ivy knew this was risky; nothing good truly came from quick cash. But right now, who cares? She really needed the cash. Maybe if it was consistent enough, she could pay off her debts. Where was she supposed to get 18 million from? Gosh, this was frustrating.

She gave the number a call. "Uhmm, hi. I saw a poster about quick cash. First of all, I'd like to make inquiries about it. Anything illegal or prostitution, count me out."

"Gurrrlll, don't play with me," a woman replied, chewing gum audibly. "Do you want the job or not?"

"It's stripping," the woman continued. "You know, pole dancing and stuff."

"Stripping? Hell no. I can't do that. Is there a vacancy for bartending or a waitress I can apply for?" Ivy asked.

"Gurlll, listen. One of our girls got married. I never knew strippers could one day have a happy ending, but she found love. We need someone to cover for her. If you're lucky, you get more than a thousand dollars in a night, depending on the crowd and your dance. Luckily, you get to wear a mask. We have strict no-touching rules, but if you want to give a customer a happy hour, you'll have to take it somewhere else. You want the job or not?"

"Uhmm... ugh... when can I come in?" Ivy asked.

"Asap, bish. If you can make it tonight before the spot gets taken, I'll send you the address. It's Klub Rush."

"Yes, I'll be on my way."

Ivy gets to the club downtown, and this wasn't what she was expecting. The decor was on another dimension. The use of artworks and paintings in the passageway that leads to one of the biggest clubs in New York—not that Ivy knows of any club in New York—was huge. The mixture of red and blue lights gave it a very enigmatic feeling of seduction.

She could see stages with poles, and that made her heart skip a beat. She made her way to a lady at the bar, staring down at her phone. Petite and cute, but it looked like she had enough fillers in her face for the whole city.

“Hi, um, I'm Ivy.” The lady looked up at Ivy.

“The new girl?” Ivy nodded. The lady's eyes roamed over Ivy from her head to her toes, but not in an offensive kind of way.

“Follow me. I'm Cindy, but people call me Pundy. At work people call me Pundy.”

“Why Pundy? What does that mean?”

“You know what? I never actually gave it a thought. What does it mean? Maybe if you add 'petite' and 'Cindy' together, who knows? What should I call you?”

“Ivy.”

“Ivy? Hell no! You don't want that. Trust me, you don't want to mix your nightlife with your day life; you'll regret it. Pick a name, form a name or something, but not your government name.”

“Uhmm...”

“What about Teresa? You look like a Teresa. What do you think? Oh, we are here.” They both stopped in front of a grey door. Cindy—or should I say Pundy—knocked on the door.

“Come in,” they heard a thick woman's voice.

“Mama, look who I have here for you. It's the new girl!” A plus-size woman wearing glasses, holding sheets of paper, looked up.

“Give mama a 360,” Pundy said to Ivy as she obeyed.

“Dang, girl! Even in those jeans!” Pundy retorted. Ivy wore mom jeans and some random top from her wardrobe. Even in those mom jeans, it was evident that she had a killer shape.

“Do you know what you're here for, girl?” Mama barked from her seat, putting fear in Ivy's mind.

Ivy nodded.

“I want an answer,” Mama said.

“Yes.”

“It is 'yes, mama.'” Ivy looked at Pundy as if asking, “For real?” Pundy, knowing this, nodded affirmatively.

“Yes, mama.”

“Okay, she's in your hands, Pundy. Take care of her. Show her the ropes. Both of you will be dancing together. 11 PM is the time; remember, masks on always, no touching, no freaky freaky. Am I clear?”

“Yes, mama,” Pundy and Ivy chorused.

“What's your name?” Mama asked. Pundy immediately moved close to Ivy, trying to scratch her arm.

“Natasha,” Ivy said.

“Okay then, Natasha. Welcome. Your shift ends by 2 AM; you'll get your pay by then. Scram off!”

Ivy and Pundy left.

“Oh my gosh, I thought you weren't going to get the signal.”

“I don't understand why I have to lie about my name, even to her.”

“Don't ever say that about mama. Always say 'mama,' nothing else. Put respect on mama's name, trust me. Besides, it's not lying; take it as a form of, um, what do they call it? Yeah, alter ego. Pundy is my alter ego. When I'm on stage and the crowd goes wild, and I hear 'Pundy, Pundy, Pundy, Pundy!' everywhere, Pundy, I'm a monster on that stage. I love the name Natasha; why Natasha, though?”

“It was the first name that popped up in my head.”

They both got to a dressing room filled with naked girls. Ivy's eyes were about to burst out. There was nothing like shame here; everyone was getting dressed. Some girls only had tapes covering their nipples. Pundy handed Ivy a pair of bikinis; according to Ivy, they were so tiny they couldn't be called bras and panties, to be sincere.

“I'm going to wear that?”

“What did you think you were going to wear? Oh, do you want to go naked?”

“No.”

“Well then, sit down. Let me do your makeup before that guy's attention, please, girlllllsssss! Gosh,” Pundy screamed. “I want to introduce you all to the newest member of the hit club girls, the best of the best strippers you'd find in town: Naaaataaasha! Say hello!”

Oh shit, Ivy truly wanted to sink into the ground, but this was just the beginning of her troubles.

“Hi,” Ivy said as the other girls chorused it back to her.

“I'll introduce you girls personally, but I have to prep her up. Go on, do what you gotta do and go get that bag!” Everyone cheered.

“Sit down. I think I should go bold with your makeup. I never asked: do you even know how to dance?”

“I mean, it can't be that hard. I can try.”

“Gurlllll, seriously, just follow my lead.” Pundy saying ‘girl’ as ‘gurlll’ made Ivy realize she was the one whom she spoke to on the phone before getting here.

When Pundy was done with Ivy's makeup, she moved out of the way for Ivy to look at herself in the mirror, which made Ivy's jaw drop.

“What?” Ivy said in surprise.

“You don't like it? I thought I did a good job! Let me see if I can fix it.”

“No, no, it's perfect, Pundy! I can hardly recognize myself! Oh my gosh, thank you so much!” Ivy didn't know when she stood up with joy and gave Pundy a big hug.

“Okay, gurlll, dress up and I'll go get ready. It's almost 11.”

Ivy was unrecognizable. She was given a pink wig to match her pink bikini and pink six-inch heels. She took some steps, realizing she could handle the heels, but what she couldn't handle was the skin she was showing off.

“Gurrrll, I knew you got it, but I didn't know you got it like that! Just look at your body and that ass!” Pundy said as she saw Ivy.

Ivy was still trying to use her hands to cover her bosom, but her small hands couldn't even cover a quarter of it.

“Gosh, this doesn't feel right.”

“Girl, if this goes right, do you know how much you'd earn today? Put your hands down!” Pundy forced Ivy to put her hands down and turned both of them to look at the full-length mirror.

“Look at you! That is not Ivy. YOU are not Ivy. You are NATASHA! Okay? Natasha is beautiful, sexy, hot, and bold. Natasha doesn’t care; she doesn't give a fuck, neither does she give a damn. Natasha would rule anybody's world.” Ivy took a deep look at herself, mingled with the words that came out from Pundy.

She truly wasn't Ivy anymore; this was Natasha.

It was time. Pundy and Natasha walked to the other end of the red curtain. The announcer said, “Our one and only, the lovely, the petite, the stunning Pundyyyyyy!” Pundy struts to the pole seductively. “Also from the streets of New York is a new candy, and her name is Natashaaaa!” The curtains opened for Natasha. The crowd was dumbstruck; nobody was expecting a beauty like that. Even though both girls were wearing masks, it was evident everyone wanted a piece of the candy named Natasha.

Natasha gave it her best walk as she strutted down to her side of the pole. She hadn't even started dancing, and she had men moving towards her side, spraying money, whistling, and cheering. The music started, and Natasha followed Pundy's moves. Unfortunately for Pundy, it looked like she would not be making much today as Natasha had stolen the show.

She danced and danced and danced. Somewhere in a private corner was a stripper bouncing her fallen tits in Ryan's face, but his attention was divided and focused on the new girl making the crowd go wild.

“Who's that? She looks familiar,” Ryan said to the stripper who was called Leti, or Retty, or maybe it was Betty; he didn't remember.

“Who?” she asked. Ryan pointed to Natasha.

“Oh, Natasha! She's new; she's inexperienced. Focus on me, baby. What do you want?” Betty held Ryan's chin, and he immediately swatted her hand away.

He stood up and made his way to the center when he saw Mama. A little crowd was gathered around Mama, asking for the prices for a private dance with Tasha. ‘That fast?’ These men don't rest; most of them are even married.

“Mama!” he called out, trying to gain her attention. She noticed and excused herself from the crowd.

“I want her.”