Ginger (Snap) Chapter 1
At the Club
The thumping music from the stage was momentarily loud as the door opened to the ladies’ dressing room and Velvet Kitty entered. Thankfully, the heavy wood door swung shut quickly and muted the noise from the crowd and music. The club crowded to capacity, the patrons rowdy. Tonight started no different than every weekend at Glisse. The dancers and waitstaff were eagerly separating people from their money.
The tall vixen sashayed past the other dancers with her perfectly sculpted nose in the air. Mists from hairspray and facial products clung to the air in the mildly warm room as dancers prepared for their sets. Glitter was everywhere and on everyone. Her eyes lighted on her only actual competition at the club. For no reason, except for her beauty perhaps and her high morals, Velvet decided she was enemy number one. A decision she would shortly come to regret.
“Stop pulling my hair, you bitch!” Ginnie screamed as her head snapped back, and she reached back and pushed Velvet Kitty away from her. It was the end of her shift, and although she had made serious bank from being in the Looking Glass tonight, she was tired and not in the mood for anyone’s shit. It looks like she would have to make an example out of Velvet for the last time.
Velvet Kitty had just finished her set and was feeling full of herself. Her unwarranted jealousy of GingerSnap decided to show up and show out as she was passing GingerSnap’s station. Velvet would see if all that luscious, thick, natural-looking ginger-colored hair was natural. With malicious intent, she grabbed a handful and gave it a vicious yank. Damn, it was real.
Ginger was so sick of these trifling hoes. Someone was always up in her personal space, trying to fight her or steal her stuff. Why was she still going through this? Glisser was supposed to be a super high-end joint. The way some of these silly bitches acted, it might as well have been a barn on the side of the road. She had enough money to relocate, to bounce from this fray of money, sex, and sin.
Velvet, notoriously known by everyone who worked at the club, laughed loudly and waited for a beat before pushing Ginger’s head into the mirror and sashaying off to her dressing table, 100’s, 50’s, and 20’s stuffed to the brink, in her glow-in-the-dark G-string. A hand full of wadded bills occupied her skimpy top.
Ginnie pushed to her last limit, turned, and rocketed a can of hairspray at the back of Velvet’s head. The noise the crack made was loud as it made contact with the back of Velvet’s head. The dancers in the dressing room, the bouncers, the makeup artists, everyone, stopped in their tracks—everyone except Ginnie, who quickly closed the distance and jumped on top of Velvet. GingerSnap had indeed snapped. Her fists pummeled the bully dancer’s face into a bloody pulp. No one rushed to break them up or help Velvet.
The truth was, everyone at the club hated Velvet Kitty. She had managed to make most people despise her, so everyone barely tolerated her. Most of the other dancers avoided her as much as possible. This ass-kicking she was getting was indeed epic, bound to make her lose a few days of work. The only downside was that Velvet had just come from a Looking Glass infamously called Into the Looking Glass and probably barely felt any of it right now. She would tomorrow, though, for sure.
Velvet was a stunning Hispanic and Egyptian transgender female and pulled in serious money for the club, but she was not a nice person. She thrived on drama and pettiness. She was one of the few who started as a male. Then as she got breasts and hung on to her male genitalia, she quickly became a superstar at the club. Mr. Marius immediately put her mid-transformation in a looking glass where she made a killing. Her next stop was in the Into the Looking Glass room experience.
Rumor had it; she was not happy and felt her gender was female, 100%. She sunk into a deep depression, putting off her final transition because Shine, the face of the place and co-manager, convinced her she was a more valuable asset to the club, mid-transformation.
One evening after her shift, one of the bodyguards found her unconscious in the employee lounge. Velvet had taken almost an entire bottle of pills. After being rushed to the hospital and a short stint in therapy, Velvet returned to the club. She wasn’t the same. The light had gone out of her eyes, and her performances started lacking the passion that enthralled the club’s wealthier members. Eventually, Mr. Marius stepped in, paid for more therapy, and allowed her to complete her transition. Her loyal clients took to her like a shiny new toy, while others shunned her, feeling like she took away their favorite plaything. Her money nor her neverending drama ever suffered. Velvet was made for entertainment and could have a crowd eating out of her hand at the sexy flick of her hips.
She should have focused on her current state of fabulousness, not being a stuck-up, troublemaking bitch. Just because she regularly screwed Shine and had a secured spot in the Looking Glass room rotations, she thought she was queen shit. She did not seem to realize she was literally and figuratively being fucked over. She childishly thought she was manipulating him. Had he cared for her, maybe yes, but he barely gave a fuck where his dick landed. She had so much more potential, but you can’t make a person be any more than they desire for themselves.
However, you can fuck up their shit when they cross into your lane and come at you, thus, their current situation.
Ginger AKA GingerSnap was Gwendolyn Parkes. In her public life, she usually went by Ginnie. Her stage name came from her hair color and redbone skin, a gift from her ginger-haired white father and biracial black and German mother. Plus, the fact she would snap on anyone that tried her made her stage name a perfect fit.
She was a tall, 5-foot, 10-inch, voluptuous woman with a tiny waist, a fat round booty, hair the color of Ginger Snap cookies, legs for days, and a smile that would brighten any room she entered. Ginger also had a smattering of freckles that gave her a sinfully youthful look, making her a unique beauty. Ginnie was earning great money as a stripper. She made much more as an exotic dancer in the Looking Glass, where she kept on her slinky, elaborate, and sexy costumes that Mr. Marius provided. He frequently had her in a Jessica Rabbit get up. The guests loved it and would come dressed in time-period suits and dresses. The dance was purely to add sensuality to the already horny customers that paid for creative sexual entertainment.
She was a great dancer, and her pole work left her guests mesmerized. Thanks to lessons back home from a former dancer and now a pole fitness instructor. In her late teens, she learned and loved performing aerial silk dancing, which gave her another skill set the other dancers did not have. She worked out the dynamics with Mr. Marius, who was indeed a man of vision. He could always find a way to monetize the big picture. None of the other girls even knew she did that for her clients. Between Mr. Marius’ creative scenes and her incredible dancing skills, Ginger told stories through her dancing.
There were so few legal ways of making the kind of money she did. She was thankful to overhear that fateful conversation and wind up in such a high-end place. It could easily have been a lower-class place where she would have barely scraped by and required to have strange hands all over her, and Goddess only knows what else.
Glisse was known as a no-touch club. You had to have stupid throw-away money to reserve a private VIP room, pay a membership fee, and have fuck you money to secure a looking glass and be at minimum a black cardholder to even know about the Into the Looking Glass room. Members-only would sign a contract, liability forms, and a Non-Disclosure Agreement, and a bunch of other shit that Ginnie deemed above her pay grade. But people will pay a premium for sex, exclusivity, taboo, and privacy. Mr. Marius knew this and was a master at parting clients from their money.
Unlike many others in the adult entertainment industry, a thriving, multi-trillion-dollar industry, she was on a mission and had an exit plan.
When she started dancing, she attended the local college during the day and paid her tuition by shaking what her once beautiful; drug addict mother gave her at night and on the weekends. She drove 100 miles away, across state lines, to dance in another city to keep her two lives separate, but tonight, this was the last straw. She was through with this craziness. She had met her financial goal a month ago. Ginger was trying to see if she could hold out until the holidays at the end of the year. That was when people here really shelled out the big bucks. Ginger had to admit to herself she stayed past her exit date due to greed, not need.
She would find another way to support herself. Of that, she was confident. She would graduate in 3 weeks with a master’s degree in child psychology and an associate degree in Information Systems and Technology. She was still a gamer at heart. She wanted to develop games that helped young children work through their issues in a fun and constructive way. The games she wanted to create were to study the way they made decisions and saw the world. Through gaming, kids would help her to help their parents understand and parent them better. She planned on obtaining her doctorate while working in her field of study. Ginnie was focused and ambitious. Her exit strategy left little time for anything or anyone else.
Ginnie had started out being a hostess and then a server. Making $20 bucks an hour and pretty good tips at the swanky Flow nightclub, also owned by these two brothers. She was working as a server. That line of work would not get her ahead financially or afford a comfortable lifestyle while paying for college tuition.
While on break one evening, Ginnie overheard one of the other servers talking about a friend who was an exotic dancer at a club in Serene and the kind of money her friend always had. Ginnie immediately sought out the club for employment. It would eventually take her two months of being a bottle girl before realizing the big bucks were on the stage pole and private dances at the extremely high-end Glisse. The owner named the strip club after a ballet movement. She recalled her former coworkers had giggled at the absurdity of giving a strip club a ballet name. Ginnie was laughing all the way to the bank.
Ginnie had a good head on her shoulders. The club was in the highly affluent city district of Serene. Known for its sexual acceptance and open culture, Serene was the place you wanted to live if you could afford the real estate. It was not uncommon to see soccer moms come in and have a night out right along with elite professionals, technology CEOs, high profile athletes, actors and actresses, musicians, and internet stars.
Dancing was a quick and efficient way to make enough money to get through school and afford her bills. She would not be leaving school with a pile of debt. She already had a sizable nest egg and had been investing since she turned 19. Now at 24, she had to break away from this part of her life. She wanted to. With her exotic looks and toned body, she could easily have many more years in this particular club, but her life desires lay elsewhere.
Dancing made her no less than $3000 or more a night after fees, permits, tips, and payouts. She had a steady stream of very wealthy and loyal clients lined up who requested to see only her in one of the 10 VIP private rooms. She knew that her main room was also a partial glass box. One of 4 rooms secretly dubbed the Looking Glass. It meant one side of the room was a floor-to-ceiling 2-way mirror. It served a dual purpose, first for those who wanted to watch themselves while in the room with her. Second, for those secret guests who chose to watch from the other side in anonymity.
Most of her clients were a diverse array of uber-wealthy people and married and single swingers of various gender identities. She would host as many as ten couples on occasion and make $1000 a person plus tips a few times a month. The rest of the time, she was entertaining guests in the looking glass; she was only entertaining the people physically present in the room.
Glass boxes allowed for the voyeuristic customers to take part without being directly a part of the action. The dancers never met or saw these clients. She understood that these clients used her primarily as a beautiful backdrop to secret meetings and gatherings. They were also privy to the sexual antics of her clients, who would sometimes masturbate, engage in sex and have orgies while she danced for them. She knew they were there watching her by a simple system of tiny green lights on her entrance door—1 green light for VIP only, two green lights for VIP, and looking glass. If her scene did not rotate, Ginnie would make sure to include turning around more often so they could enjoy her performances as well.
Mr. Marius made sure that the experience in the Looking Glass Room was surreal, fantasy-like, and addictive. Mr. Marius had left no stone unturned in searching for ways to create high-end sexual experiences. Things such as pumping in organic scents and pheromones, using fog machines, uplighting, sexy music, fresh flowers, and unique props. Furniture with vibration and built-in straps and exotic fantasy decor to set the mood. His most notable element was the water feature.
She knew when clients requested that feature. The designers would fill the room with marble and granite. The pole would either be removed or fitted with clear straps from which to hang. A bathtub or a clear glass box partially filled with water would complete the setup. If the clients wanted an immersive experience, the seating would be close enough for the clients to get wet.
He offered props and toys along with platters of finger foods, purported aphrodisiacs, and unlimited alcohol to enhance the experience. Mr. Marius would make a brief 3d hologram welcome, point out the guards and servers located in the corners for the safety and satisfaction of all and then introduce the dancer. His voice was deep and compelling, hinting at the fun to come. The lights in the room would darken, the music would begin, and the lights would come up on the dancer already in a sensual pose.
The occasional stage shows Ginnie still did to keep the regulars with slightly less money pouring into the place helped entice new clients into the private rooms and looking glasses.
Pulling herself off the semi-conscious dancer, she gifted Velvet with a final swift kick to the ribs. Back at her dressing table, Ginger slammed all of her stuff into her duffle bag. The other dancers watched greedily, hoping she would leave an outfit or makeup behind. Ginnie was much too organized for that and cleared her area out in spectacular fashion without leaving a trace of herself behind. A quick wipe down of her dressing area finished off her night as it had for the last four years. With a slightly bleeding hand, she shot the room a bloody bird as she departed.
“See ya bitches!”
There was no tearful exit; she was not friends with anyone there. Many girls came and went. It would be impossible to form any type of friendship for long, even if she had been interested. Her strict policy of not becoming the environment she inhabited a few nights a week kept her focused, determined, and safe on more than a few occasions. Being nice to the bouncers and padding their tips made sure they looked out for her safety. She came, she danced, she left.
No sex, never raped, never on her knees for anyone. On very few special occasions, Ginger had touched herself for clients but never to the point of the actual release. She could fake moan with the best of them. She would then let them smell or suck her fingers before giving them a light slap on the cheek, breast, or bottom for being naughty. It was more to enhance the experience in the room.
Knowing how to knock a bitch out also came in handy. She found that she had to put a good beat down on a few of the other dances. Most of the time, it was Velvet. She just never seemed to learn. Something deep inside Velvet Kitty broke beyond repair. Something that surgery, counseling, and being wealthy could not fix.
She stopped by the manager’s office on her way out. She was knocking lightly on the office door as she entered the small space, badly in need of organization and Febreeze. She flicked on the lights near the door.
“Shine, you in here?” Ginger asked, cautiously peeking around the corner. God only knew what he was up to in here in the dark.
“Girl, can’t you see I’m busy?” Shine said with some annoyance.
“Um no, the lights were off Shine. My superpowers don’t include seeing you in the dark!” Ginger snapped as her eyes adjusted to the suddenly way too bright light.
“Close the damn door. Are you joining or watchin’ GingerSnap?” He said with a grin that nearly turned her stomach.
Shine was the day-to-day co-owner and face manager of club Glisse. Shine thought he had to play the part. Maybe the more likely truth was he was just that; a slimeball. He got his name from the light grey eyes he and his brother had. God knows what his real name was, and obviously, no one cared as the name seemed to fit. He co-owned the club with his silently powerful, no-nonsense brains behind the designer suit and handsome brother, known simply as Mr. Marius. It was hard to believe they both came from the same gene pool.
Mr. Marius rarely made physical appearances inside the front of the club. His presence was seen and felt in the upscale design and apparent quality of the place.
Ginnie met Mr. Marius only once in person. He called for her to meet him in his elaborately ornate office. Ginnie had never seen it before. She was anxious as they winded a maze of hallways. She was escorted to his office by two of the three triplets. On the way, she wondered why.
He called for her to meet him in his elaborately ornate office. Ginnie had never seen it before. He approached her about dancing in the VIP rooms. Once she agreed, Marius began to discuss some of the plans for scenes. She barely remembered the conversation but distinctly remembered being enthralled just by his presence. Being that close to him was sensory overload. The way he called her Ginger sent shivers straight to her core. She was surprised when he suddenly dismissed her, wondering what she had done wrong.
After that first meeting, all other sessions were by video or 3d hologram. Ginnie didn’t understand the almost instantaneous change in his behavior. It felt like he purposely avoided her. Meanwhile, she hid away the coveted attraction and instead focused on the job. In time, she forgot about it. Because of her dedication and hard work, she was excellent at performing. She could tell Mr. Marius was pleased with her ability to make his creative scenes come alive and the club lots of money.
Mr. Marius was the one who worked behind the scenes, vetting and securing high-end clientele. Essentially, he was the access key to the Looking Glass rooms. The rumor was, clients found him. While you had to be comfortably rich to walk in the front door and modestly wealthy to afford a night in a roped-off VIP section, you had to be massively rich to obtain a private VIP room. Rumor also had it that you needed to be black card rich and pay a membership to have a seat in the Looking Glass. The membership fee was to protect their identities. Looking Glass clients had a special entrance not located at the club. They were brought in through a particular access tunnel from an undisclosed location by 1 of 4 blacked-out luxury SUVs.
A single Looking Glass room, solely used to watch (dolls) girls and kens (males) have sex. Clients were allowed to participate. Only a few dolls and kens were regulars in that room, Velvet Kitty being the mainstay, and a male stripper named Titan. Most could not handle the debauchery and the sheer magnitude of sex from multiple people all at once for hours at a time. Money ruled in that space. Into the Looking Glass was consistently booked out four years in advance. So, of course, the occupants on both sides wanted to get the most for their money when their reservation date came up. Mr. Marius dosed the entertainment for the evening with a tea concoction of natural herbs to lower their inhibitions and dull their pain sensitivity, helping them get through the evening. Mr. Marius had assured Ginger she would never be in that room, and thankfully, he never went back on his word.
Under Shine’s desk was a girl she had never seen before sucking his dick. She was one of the few that fell for his bullshit ‘audition’ spiel: her slurping and occasional gagging, loud in the small space.
“You know better than that, Shine. I come here to work and get paid. Nothing else. Here’s your cut.” Ginger answered in a voice dripping in loathing disgust.
He watched as Ginger tossed a wad of blood-stained cash on his desk.
“What the fuck is that on my money?!” Shine said, fingering the stack with his lips turned up in semi-mocked disgust.
“What? You mean besides pussy juice, cheating husbands, and broken dreams? Don’t tell me you are scared of a little blood, courtesy of Velvet.” Ginger answered sarcastically. “Oh, and I quit.”
“You’ve been saying that same shit since you started. I’ll see you next week.” Shine replied in his know- it- all voice, dismissing her statement.
Ugh! she hated when he used that tone. Shine was correct. Ginger quit after every shift. It was a way of keeping her mind aligned with her exit strategy.
Shine finished counting the stack of crinkled money. He seemed more than pleased. He always was. Shine studied her standing there. Ginger was consistent and had a great crowd of regulars that preferred her in the private dance rooms. She rarely did more than 1 or 2 stage shows per week any longer. He suspected that she paid more than the required amount in tip-outs, which meant the bouncers wouldn’t hesitate to enforce her safety. She was trustworthy. His brother, Marius, had recognized her potential early on and facilitated the move to mostly VIP rooms. He even seemed to look after her by placing her in one of the more low-key, creative fantasy Looking Glass rooms. Shine believed he favored Ginger above the other dancers but would never let his suspicions pass his lips.
Few had her fortitude in this business. The other girls were always jealous of her, but he knew she could handle her own. His dick stiffened at the thought of how tight her pussy must feel. He jacked off repeatedly in his office as he watched her dance on the main stage and through monitors fed into the VIP and Looking Glass rooms. He was fortunate enough to see the rare occasions when she spread her perfectly preserved flower. Her sexuality just seemed to reach out across the room and snare him.
His brother Marius was a genius for recognizing true talent in the girls and guys he chose, especially for those rooms. Velvet was a valuable moneymaker, but GingerSnap was a fucking atm tsunami. Shine was admittedly shady and opportunistic, but he was no rapist, and even he recognized a light when he saw it. GingerSnap had a light, and he had no intention of extinguishing it. This bitch under the desk; now that was a whole different matter altogether.
“Ouch! No teeth, dammit.” He yelled at the kneeling girl and cuffed her roughly on the side of her head. He then turned his slimy gaze on Ginger.
“You don’t seem to be hurt, GingerSnap. Did you tag that ass?”
“Oh, I beat the breaks off that hoe. A little parting gift to you all.” As she blew a kiss to Shine, she bowed, gave her sexiest, ‘you will never have me, smile,’ and turned to leave.
She stopped just inside the doorframe. The girl under the desk predicament tugged at her chest. She addressed the new girl on her knees without looking back.
“Try sucking harder and flick your tongue a little, and the hell you are currently in will soon be over.”
She was probably young and inexperienced. Seduced by the flashy costumes and tsunamis of dollar bills showed in slow motion in the rap videos. She was in for a rude awakening.
The “oh fuck yes” made Ginnie’s skin crawl as she heard Shine voice his vulgar contentment. As she flipped the switch and closed the door, it confirmed that the young and inexperienced girl had heard her and that she wasn’t enjoying herself. Off the stage, out of that disgusting office, she was now just Ginnie, once again. The hulking bouncer, one of the triplets, Bruce, walked her to the parking garage entrance as he did most of her shifts. She turned and waved her final goodbye.
“See ya next week, GingerSnap,” the bouncer said with a kind smile as he turned to head back inside. She opened her car door, yawning as she sank into the car seat. Ginnie threw her duffle bag in the passenger seat. She opened her mouth to deny that she would be back but decided not to waste the effort. Her mind and heart accepted the fact; there would be no more coming back. She made the amount of money needed for the next stage of her future. Ginnie closed the chapter on this part of her life.
Ginnie ran her fingers over the bedazzled tag that read GingerSnap on her bag. Tonight would be the last time she used that name.
She released an exhausted sigh then tucked away her duffle bag on the floor of the passenger seat. Ginnie pushed the button to start the car, pulled the meter ticket off the dashboard, and backed out of her parking space. Paying the meter for the last time, she waited patiently as the bar slowly raised. A whole new world of opportunity lay on the other side of the bar. She proceeded to exit the dark parking garage.
A whole new world of opportunity lay on the other side of the bar. Smiling to herself, Ginnie closed the door and put a lock on that part of her life. The day was just starting to dawn on the horizon. Glisser was in her rearview, and she looked forward to a bright future.