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Once I’m done, I get dressed, pulling on the tight black, strapless dress that stops halfway up my thigh. It’s classy yet extremely sexy and works for most of what I end up doing for the night. I step into my black heels, glance in the mirror one more time before leaving the dressing room and heading to my first night as an official Doll.
ChapterThree
Do I care that I am getting paid to have sex with people instead of just taking my clothes off?
Absolutely fucking not.
What could I possible hate about that?
Besides, from what I hear, a lot of men like to watch. From what Missy told me, there will be a lot of nights I leave here surprised at how little I got off.
Really, what’s the difference between me and a porn star?
Not much.
There are plenty of rules here to safeguard us all.
Like the fact that we, as the workers, get to choose if we want to have unprotected sex or not. And if we choose to, because it gets us more money, then we have to get weekly STD tests along with proof of being on birth control. On the other end of things, the guys who come in, if they choose to not wear a condom, they must provide results of a clean test from within three days. There is no exception for this. It’s usually only the regulars who opt for that anyway. Most guys don’t mind slapping on a condom to get laid, even though society makes you think otherwise. That thought comes from the immature college kids and not men, which are the people who frequent this place. College kids can get off on their own and haven’t usually found their kinks yet. It’s the middle-aged men who frequent this place. The guys with the designer suits, prudish wives, and lots of cash.
One of the requirements to become a Doll is to pass a test on the process of booking an appointment. The screening and questions to even get in this place are extensive, which is why the walk-ins don’t get to have as much fun and will always have to wear a condom, no matter what.
The safety of this place, along with the money I make from working here, and doing something I enjoy—sex—there is nothing not to love about this job, nor anything to be ashamed of. Sex is normal. People want pleasure, especially when they have such stressful day-to-day lives. Businessmen looking for a reprieve they can’t get anywhere else. Why is that so bad?
“Welcome, Vixen!” Kelsey shouts from down the hall. I raise my hands in the air excitedly, giving a little whoop. She gives me a hug when I reach her.
Kelsey is Moscow’s wife and the manager of the sex club. Yeah, she’s a woman and all about this lifestyle. Her and Moscow have one of the healthiest relationships I’ve ever seen, though I bet many say otherwise when they find out what they do.
“Ready for your first night?” she asks, placing her hand around my hip and giving me a little shake. Kelsey is a tiny thing, even when I’m not wearing heels. I don’t think she reaches five-foot but she’s the scariest bitch in this place, I’ll tell you that.
“So ready,” I say with a grin. And I am. I’ve been counting down the days since I found out I was offered the position a month ago.
“Well, you look hot, it’s Friday night, and you are booked solid.”
“Yeah?” I raise a brow. “Wasn’t expecting that on my first night.”
“Guys always love when a downstairs girl gets a promotion to the third floor.”
“Good point.”
She taps my hip with her hand. “Don’t let me keep you any longer. Go check out your room, get yourself prepared, and have a great fucking night!” She slaps my ass as I walk away, causing me to laugh.
“Garrett,” I greet as I reach the doors leading to the front hallway that’ll bring me to my room. We’re not open yet so it won’t be busy, and I’ll be able to get to my room without being stopped again. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to anyone, I’m just excited about getting to my room, getting it checked and set up.
“Vixen.” He nods his head, checking my name off the list before pushing the door open for me. All the girls get checked in and out of the front to make sure we’re all accounted for. Like I said, Moscow has shit in place to make sure we’re safe.
When I reach my door, I stop in front of it and look up.
Threeis scrawled across it in gold lettering.
Room three.
I take in a breath before pushing open the door, which will be locked once I get inside and have no control over when they are unlocked—there is a lot of trust in this place among the staff.
The rooms aren’t too big, just about 20 x 20. The lights are bright, but they’ll be dimmed when I’m done with my inspection.
Most of the floor is covered by a large, fluffy gray throw rug. There is a king-sized bed against the middle of the wall straight ahead, a tall cabinet that holds all the toys to the left of that, a red sofa to my right with a soft gray chaise lounge beside it and a coffee table in front of it, and an over-sized armchair in the corner by the entry door. To my left, is the long mirror that looks like nothing other than a mirror to anyone who doesn’t know better. Behind it, is the watch room that has sight on three rooms at a time. Each watch room has someone in there at all times, not only watching for people getting out of hand, but controlling the locks on the doors, and a few other things as well like the lights and music.
“Evening, Vixen.” The voice comes from the speaker in the corner of the room, the one that will play music once things get going.
