Chapter 8: Eternity's Domain

The infamous club dressing room is my lair, a control center for behind the scenes operations. Girls come and go and the best ones stay, but either way, I am the lead dancer and the others are beneath me. 

I've made the dressing room infamous with my perversions, a hotbed of sexual hijinks to keep the girls on their best behavior. Eternity is the name Cherish gave to me when I first started working for her, which was before the club, back when she owned another business. My loyalty has been proven and my innate sense for creating fabulous burlesque, exotic and outright explicit entertainment is why I manage the performers. I coach, mentor, turn their libidos up, anything to enhance the sexual seduction that must be in effect every second the club is open. My girls and I are the atmosphere, as well as the main attractions. Any ripples of bad energy or failure to exceed my expectations are grounds for dismissal. 

Cherish and I function exactly alike in business, and my end is the backbone of our success. No bullshit, head trips, unsubstantiated egos or drama queens allowed. I also insist on subservience, and a trial period for proof of obedience. I had my time as Cherish's lover and I was the first of her long line of live-ins, and so far, no one has beaten my record for domestic stay. I don't crave being physical with the other performers, but I like them at my leisure. I am respectful to the girls under live-in privilege and am there to provide support during their transitions after being released, too. Having been one myself, I understand how difficult the change can be, both entering and exiting Cherish's home. I've had my eye on Harlow and Kristin, unsure of what the final outcome would be. Personally, I liked the idea of Cherish picking two, because she really needs more than one at a time. Until her, I had never known anyone with a ferocious sex drive stronger than my own. That's why we lived together as long as we did, and I suppose it's why we broke apart, too.

Kristin seems unaffected by her release, all smiles and sweetness, which secretly disappoints me. When girls are too good at hiding emotions it makes me uneasy. I'd rather see it upfront rather than peel layers to discover the truth. Of course, it could be that Kristin never got attached to her temporary status, and therefore had nothing invested, but I doubt that is the case. The girls that have followed in my path have a scar or two from our beloved boss and lover. This is when Dusty goes into hyperdrive, arms open to receive the suffering. She said to me earlier, “Don't worry about Kristin. I got her taken care of.”

It's true, when Dusty scores an ex-live-in, the transition is mild, going from master suite to the personal assistant's quarters. “Have you gotten confirmation?” I asked her.

“Not yet, but I will. She's been sending me signals all along that she's open and willing,” Dusty replied with absoluteness.

It's a tough challenge being the rebound lover of the live-ins, and Dusty has acclimated herself to the benefits of her job. Cherish spins it like Dusty couldn't handle being involved with a girl that is for sale to others, but I disagree. Sooner or later Dusty will fall hard for one of the club girls and the dynamic of her being the single sidekick will be over. One late night after work, Dusty and I hooked up. Nothing too heavy—we made out and dry humped against the wall of Cherish's office. I had been dancing nude for hours without being assigned to anyone the entire evening and I was in need of release from over stimulation. 

Dusty is an excellent kisser and getting her turned on was a no-brainer, yet the right chemistry for getting me off wasn't there. If I was more of a fem, which I'm not, preferring to be alpha rather than demure, perhaps maybe a one-night stand or two would have happened. We haven't hooked up since, almost as if it never happened, and our work relationship is cool and mellow. She knows better than to interfere in my space and I don't tread on hers, either.

I give Kristin the nightly assignment. “Hi Kristin. You're popular tonight, booked with Katherine first and then Danielle. I don't think you've been booked with either before.”

“No. How exciting!” Kristin kisses my cheek and immediately begins to dress for her aerial performance. “How soon before you want me out there?”

“Ten minutes.” I wink at her, which is my way of saying, “be out there in five.” My attention is diverted by Dusty escorting in a new bitch without warning.

“Everyone, this is Winterlynn, hired as of this afternoon,” Dusty announces. The few of us not out on the floor stop to check her out.

Harlow blinks, feeling suddenly insecure, sensing possible competition.

Fiery Nixie enters, brazenly pushing past Dusty and Winterlynn, looking over her shoulder when she realizes it's someone new. “Look how cute. The new whore in the family,” says Nixie, talking with love in her viciously edgy way. “She looks like she's had dick before, Dusty. We don't like that type of thing. Girls who take dick can't be trusted.”

Harlow wholeheartedly agrees. “Besides we don't need any more dancers. We have plenty.”

Dusty pulls out the seat from a vacant vanity, motioning for Winterlynn to sit. “Apparently she's filling your position, Harlow, now that you've been taken off the list.”

Harlow had no idea. “I have? Why didn't Cherry tell me?”

“Can't answer that, but I was informed this afternoon. You don't trust me, ask Cherry yourself.”

“No, thanks Dusty, of course I trust you.” Harlow retreats to her vanity and the comfort of her gorgeous reflection in the mirror.

Dusty checks the schedule, “Nixie, you're up next, center stage.” Nixie adjusts her stockings and spiked heels, brushing her body against Winterlynn. “I bet she's not even a good dancer. Just some young hot whore the boss wants to fuck.”

Harlow is disturbed by Nixie's comments, and Nixie doesn't care, continuing on, “Or maybe they've done it already. Did you check her pussy before letting her in, Dusty?”

“Nixie, enough,” Dusty tries to shut her up, but it's useless.

“Excuse me, I don't know you and you don't know me. I don't appreciate you talking so boldly about my body when you have no idea,” Winterlynn says in her defense.

“Oh, my name's Nixie, Winterlynn, the #2 girl under Eternity. Did Cherry give you that name?”

Winterlynn raises an eyebrow. “No, it was given at birth.” 

Dusty intervenes, “You're on, Nixie, now.”

I take it upon myself to cozy up to Harlow. “It didn't occur to you that Cherish would take you out of rotation? You're her exclusive. Making her the center of your Universe is

required. She told you this from the start, I'm sure.”

Harlow glows with infatuation. “She did, but I—it hasn't set in yet, her decision.”

I brush her silk-spun hair, standing behind her at her vanity. The soft-lit room casts a moody glow on the mirrors, enhancing Harlow's lovestruck haze. “Be careful,” I advise with a maternal sense. “Always remember who you are falling in love with.”

“Who said I was falling in love?” Harlow freshens up her makeup, focusing on her image.

“I'm glad you're not. You should just have fun and enjoy the ride while it lasts.” This catches Harlow's attention. “Because all of her live-ins leave eventually.”

Harlow dresses into a skin-tight silver satin dress. I fasten the little buttons running along her spine. “Don't worry. I won't waste my tears if that happens.”

“No baby,” I clarify, “it's when. For now you get to live in a big house, have gourmet meals cooked for you, a large closet filled with an expensive wardrobe. A chauffeured limousine to take you anywhere you want to go when you're not on the clock. Who wouldn't enjoy that? Keep in mind that wild cats like Cherry can't be tamed. And they don't like being chased.”

“Thank you for the advice, Eternity, but I'm okay. Like you said, just have fun, which is what I'm doing.”

I kiss her. “Good. Finish up. I need privacy with the new recruit Winterlynn, please.”

Harlow exits, taking a serious look at Winterlynn before she does. The newest new hire is always a threat to the current live-in, even if only just invited. Barely having a mean bone in her body, Harlow's attempts at staking her ground are weak. She's no match for anyone determined to win Cherish's full admiration, as beautiful as she is. She may surprise us and break my record of seven months, becoming the longest full time live-in ever. I wouldn't bet on it, though.

Winterlynn is different—I can tell immediately by the way she holds herself, calmly waiting for me to approach her. “Hi, I'm Eternity. As pointed out by Nixie, the #1 girl here at the club, and the one you will answer to while working.”

“Cherry didn't say anything about you. I think I should ask her first before taking your word.”

“She auditions, hires, takes test drives, has affairs, manages client services, terminates, etc., but I handle the performers once employed. Dusty is in charge of the bar staff, the front and back door and security. That's how this business runs. Still want to cross check, be my guest. The longer you take to accept your fate, the harder I'm going to make the initiation. The choice is yours. Do what you must.”

“Thanks for the information. I'll get back to you,” Winterlynn states, disinterested in my authority. Not to be spoken rudely to, I grab hold of her arm and pull her to me. “Tell me, Winterlynn, what did the boss's pussy taste like?”

“Excuse me? I don't know what you are talking about.”

“No?” I question, knowing full well she does. “You really are different then, not like the other sluts that come through here, thinking their audition skills mean more than they do.”

I let her arm go, throwing her off balance in cheap platform shoes. “You won't be taking the stage tonight.”

“Oh? Why not? I thought Cherry said?”

“Right, right, you think Cherry's word is the last one. Again, I am your mentor, your best friend from the back end of the club. You will be working on the floor, in this,” I present a white, frilly bikini with knee-high white boots. “The members love a girl who looks like a high school cheerleader, and that's how I want you to represent yourself to them.”

“So, I'm not dancing?” Winterlynn looks over the outfit, unsure of my plan.

“You're dancing, absolutely, just not on the stage. You will dance your heart out on the floor, for anyone who asks you to, until I say otherwise.” My orders are final, and she sees the look in my eyes, deciding not to question me further. “Ten minutes, you got it?”

Winterlynn nods. I give her some space to change, dress and fix her face and hair. She does have a dreamy body, and I look forward to having it all over mine.