spoke, my presence already forgotten as someone else buzzed in.

I ordered a drink at the bar and sat. The shoddy exterior, designed to keep out curious onlookers, did not match the interior. The first floor housed a bar, a stage, and a small club on the other side of that. The club was a separate part of the first floor, one I rarely went into because I wasn’t into rave-style hedonism. I was much too old for that crowd.

I preferred the darkness of the stage area and to watch the pole dancing magic. Roxie would be on soon, and I wanted to speak to her anyway. I’d noticed her quite a few times, but I hadn’t spoken to her yet. I wanted to know if we could, perhaps, take part in one of the peculiar arrangements available at Elmo’s.

I watched her go through her routine, effortless beauty, stunning grace, and skills beyond measure on display. Roxie never disappointed her viewers, and the tips she brought in proved that. She started a new routine, and I waited, my interest growing. If she could move like that on a pole, how well could she move on a man?

Sexist, perhaps disgusting, but people didn’t come to Elmo’s to find love; they came to relax, get turned on, and maybe fuck, if they were lucky. I saw Freddy, the man who had introduced me to the place, and wondered… Was he Roxie’s protector now?

Freddy was a very handsome man, I’d give him that, and he’d never had problems with women. Those brown puppy dog eyes and blond hair kept the ladies on a leash, begging to take care of him. I, on the other hand, had black hair, dark gray eyes and was so tall and broad women often found me intimidating. If the broadness had been fat, it might have softened my appearance a bit, but every inch of me was covered in muscle. I worked hard to maintain my health, and I didn’t allow an ounce of fat to form on me.

I didn’t often have a problem finding a bed partner, though; there were plenty

of women brave enough to take the challenge I offered them. Women with eyes that gave off sparks of defiance, that eventually ended up begging for me to make them mine. I never did, though. The minute their will broke, I was done and moved on to the next. A handsome face made that much easier.

I wanted Roxie, but if she was under Freddy’s protection, then I’d have to look elsewhere. A dainty blonde, small and delicate, caught my eye. She had on a silky emerald robe that flowed out behind her as she walked around the room, in search of a man to entertain. There were about eleven other customers in the room, but she didn’t spend much time with any of them.

She flitted around, nervous, with a fear in her eyes. I would guess it was that fear that drove the men to send her away. Nobody wanted an unwilling partner.

That was the cost of protection after all. The arrangement was about sex, and nothing more. We would pay to protect the ladies, in a sense, and in exchange, we were free to enjoy each other. We were all adults, however, and knew that arrangement meant sex.

If the woman wasn’t into a guy, then she could turn him down, no problem.

Most arrangements were made through Miss Maples or Roxie. It was all done in a way to protect all involved, from all manners of problems, and could be ended without notice to either party. Maybe this woman would do that for me? If we could get rid of that fear.

“Hello there, gorgeous,” she said softly as she made her way up to me. I looked her over, noted the sweet swell of large breasts beneath the panels of the robe and a slim waist too. The perfect little doll for me to play with, maybe.

“What’s your name, angel?” We all knew the women used fake names, but we played along. They needed their privacy and dignity, after all.

She wore a white mask, a wide ribbon of silk with the eyes cut out so they

could see. The white looked almost silver it was so shimmery, and on this young woman, it made her appearance more tantalizing while enabling her to remain anonymous. All the girls in training wore them as a way to let customers know they were new, and as a way for them to maintain their dignity until they were sure this was the life they wanted. That strip of silk would allow her to return to her life without anyone knowing what she looked like without it.

“Why, I think you just gave it to me.” She spoke with a deep Southern accent, the kind that made my balls go tight. Sweet, submissive, and so sultry.

“Indeed? Would you like to sit?” Her eyes had darted around nervously, her

hands clasped together until she sat. She relaxed the moment she did, and I wondered if the heels had pained her. Six-inch heels were hard for any woman to stand in.

“How long have you been here, angel?” I asked and flicked a hand toward the bartender. A waitress brought over a glass of the beer I’d been drinking and a glass of wine for the lady.

“It’s my second day, but I’ve been a pole dancer for three years now. I came up from Georgia just to check out the scene.” She didn’t look much older than twenty-three, I noted as I looked her over. She had pretty brown eyes, straight but large white teeth, and a lovely smile. It was just a shame her chin was a little too long and her nervousness hadn’t completely receded.

I could look past those problems, if she’d calm down a little more. Let me see who she really was and what she really wanted from life. Some of the girls who came to Elmo’s came to seek fame. They wouldn’t find it here. They might find a protector who would help them find it, but fame didn’t come from Elmo’s.

It was an exclusive, prestigious place, but the ultimate goal wasn’t to propel a dancer to stardom; it was to provide men, and some women, with sexual partners. This little angel wasn’t going to last long here, I was afraid.

“I guess you’ll learn to fit in then. It’s still early. You might settle in just fine.” It wasn’t proper to ask a woman how she ended up at Elmo’s, but one thing was certain, they were there under their own free will. Some had even found protectors who moved them out into their own newly-purchased houses and put them on an annual income.

That was the ultimate goal here, to never have to work again. Not a “real”

job, anyway. Mistresses for hire, that was what the place boiled down to.

“I guess I will.” She sipped at her wine prettily and looked at my chin, not my eyes. Hers flicked up to mine for an instant and then shied away. It wasn’t an act, I decided; she was afraid.

“You know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to right? You’re

perfectly free to dance if that’s all you want to do.” I’d been versed on the rules well and warned about repercussions if I didn’t follow those rules. No meant no, and anything other than acceptance would get a patron banned.

“I know, but I thought I’d try. At least once, you know? I’ve never done that before, just slept with a man for money.”

“It’s awkward, I assume, for you ladies?” I hadn’t really thought about it.

Most of the women I’d met here had been eager, curious to find out what hid behind the cool façade.

I was sure more than one would be amused to find me with the kitten who

had found herself lost in the big, bad world. I didn’t want to turn her away, because she might prove to be exactly what I wanted.

“It is, but most of the women here want to sleep with the men they choose.

It’s not like we have to do it. They want to. I just haven’t found a man I want to do it with yet.”

“Then, I suggest you wait for the right one, angel. There’s no rush.” I smiled and sat back as Roxie began another set.

It was almost nine, and she’d be done soon. I’d talk to her and then go home, I decided. It had been a long day, and I’d only found disappointment so far.

Maybe a night’s sleep would cure that.

3

EMILY

“W hat about these, Roxie? They’d look great on you!” I called

Roxie over to me, and she stared at the colorful pair of heels

I’d stopped at in the boutique I’d brought us to.

My birthday had been and gone a week ago, and Roxie still hadn’t told me if she could get me into the club she worked at. We’d spent my birthday in her apartment, watching our favorite movies and getting drunk. It had been fun, a first rebellion, and I’d passed out on her couch around one a.m. Since then, we’d both been busy with different things, but we’d finally met up for a shopping trip that I’d proposed.

She’d wanted to head over to the discount shops along the boardwalk, but I’d driven us to a secluded set of boutiques just outside of town. She’d been confused but hadn’t protested. I liked that about Roxie; she was brave, curious, and wasn’t afraid of much in the world.

“God, put those back, Emily; I can’t afford them,” Roxie whispered to me as I picked up a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes. I looked up at her confused.

“But I have this?” I put the shoes down, dug around in my bag, opened my