Mere minutes earlier, behind the glittering curtain and in a secluded corner of the dancer's dressing room where the grim realities of Exotic Dancing really came home to roost, the Sister was standing in front of a vanity checking the mask she had applied a few moments earlier. She wistfully recalled the last time she had put on so much makeup at once. As a young girl of barely 13, she had stolen away into her older sister's room and raided her makeup kit, intent on snagging the attention of a boy she had a crush on. When her sister caught her, she was mad at first, but when she learned the inspiration for the trespass, she helped her rather than scold her. The makeup tips didn't do much for the boy she was crushing on, but they had done wonders for her relationship with her sister.
But that was before... It felt like a lifetime past.
Now she was here, in the dressing room of a strip club for which the word "dive" was an apt descriptor, hearing the hooting of patrons and the pounding of bass speakers as she strained to recall those same makeup tips. While they had not been a staggering success in their initial foyer, she couldn't deny the fact that they had a better chance of helping her look the part now.
As that thought struck her, she looked once again at her outfit, and was reminded of the process that had put her in it.
When she had first worked out a deal with the owner to work undercover here, which sounded hilarious even as she thought it, Hilde had been introduced to Alison, the star of the show, so to speak. She had looked very different when they met than she did when she headed onto the stage just moments ago, but no less gorgeous. The owner had asked her professional opinion on Hilde and if she could help teach her the ropes. Alison had walked slowly around her and examined her form from every angle before hanging her arm over Hilde's shoulders and announcing "Oh yeah, boss. She'll fit right in." In the remembering now, Hilde couldn't help but blush as she recalled Alison's warm breath on her neck.
She shook her head violently for a second, hardly the response she should be having to that memory. Then she remembered her hair, highly styled and arranged with barrettes, now slightly off kilter. Silently reprimanding herself, she worked to get her hairdo back in line with her outfit.
Alison had picked out the outfit she was wearing. As they perused the clothing rack in the dressing room, she had ignored a number of conservative and complicated outfits that Hilde felt she would have been more comfortable with.
"Those are Pro level, Lamb. You have to know your stuff to make those really sexy. You are new to this, and given your... disposition" Hilde remembered Alison laughing melodically at that point, a sound that had made her shiver slightly as they stood there in dressing gowns and little else. "You had better make it easy on yourself, go with a classic. Mind you, doll, you can't make it too easy. Jump on stage in a g-string bikini and you wont get far with these gents." Hilde could only gape, open-mouthed, as Alison examined progressively smaller articles of clothing. "Aha!" she held up what looked like a cross between a catholic or perhaps Japanese schoolgirl uniform and the kind of gothic dresses that filled Alison's personal clothes rack.
"Perfect" Alison Chirped as Hilde struggled to form words in protest.
Yet here she sat in that very outfit, stacked heel school shoes and all, only moments from her debut performance. She'd spent most of the day before the Lacquer Shack opened practicing under Alison's watchful eye. After her training regimen had ended, Alison clapped excitedly and the tone of a proud parent seeped into her voice. "Very good, lamb! Not bad for a true beginner." As Hilde had straightened up and started collecting her clothes, Alison's voice became sexually charged. "You certainly got my motor running, beautiful. And if it worked on me, it's sure to work on the customers." Hilde recalled how, in spite of being flushed from dancing and being nude in front of a relative stranger, Alison's comments had managed to make he blush even harder, casting her glance away from her mentor and studying the ground.
Alison picked up on it. "Oh, poppet, I'm sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm so used to just speaking my mind in this place."
Now it was Hilde's turn to feel slightly bad. "It's... It's okay, really." She looked back at Alison, who now had a sisterly look on her face. "Are you a, Uh..." Alison's lips curled into a badly concealed smirk as she had fumbled with a simple word. "I mean, it doesn't bother me either way, just curious if you were a..." Again she failed to just say it, but Alison laughed sweetly as she said it for her.
"A Lesbian?" All Hilde could manage was a nod as Alison beamed at her, almost adoringly. Or had she imagined that? "No I wouldn't say that." Hilde couldn't help but breath a tiny sigh at this, but it didn't last. "I believe the proper term for it is Pansexual or Omnisexual?" Alison's frankness about her personal life was refreshing, if a bit unsettling at first. She seemed to pick up on Hilde's discomfort and, in one quick motion, she jumped on stage and had her in a reassuring hug, a hand on the back of her head and her chin resting on top.
"Don't you worry, Lamb. You'll do just fine, in this and anything that follows"
As if the memory and subsequent blush on Hilde's cheeks back in the now had summoned her, Alison, or Cynderella as she was known when she was working, burst into the dressing room, still mostly nude. "You ready?" Alison stood her up, looked her up and down and, like a craftsman boasting about his wares, she said "You look good enough to keep all to myself!" Hilde could not deny the sudden rush of nervousness she felt now that it was zero hour. As always, Alison picked up on her jitters and pulled her close, whispering softly in her ear "You can do this" before planting a light, loving kiss on her cheek. Hilde's worries melted away like snow in summer as Alison spun her around, pointed her towards the stage and unceremoniously slapped her on the ass. "I'll be out there in the crowd to check on you shortly." The inane babble of the DJ announcing her and the beginning of a metal cover of Losing My Religion were the last things she sensed before the curtain opened.
At the instant the curtain drew back, she saw him.
And he was looking right at her, a drink in his hand, a cigar in his teeth and a grin on his lips.
"Fuck Me!" she heard herself say.
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