Nail Clippers, Pages 21-24

Previously.

I was tempted to split this into two scenes, but no matter where I choose it didn’t read right, so here is one long and fun scene especially if you know the music. Enjoy. 🙂

****

Jax and Jetta stood at the back of the parking lot admiring the decor; neon pink lights from every corner of the building provided enough light that they had no trouble navigating between the parked cars to get to the front of the club. Bass thumped from everywhere, a testament to the sound system, thin walls or both. A neon pink sign adorned with headshots of the main acts blocked their path to the front door.

“I don’t see Mandy,” Jax said pointing at the sign.

“It is her third night,” Jetta replied, walking around the sign.

Other than the neon pink edging lights the building was featureless from the parking lot to the front. The front however, a testament to neon, pink, and cats. “Pussy House Rules” in cursive neon pink lights adorned both sides of the pink leather looking front door. Next to the front door, a cartoon image of a female cat wearing pasties over her ample breasts and a thong waved a greeting. Standing in front of the door, a very imposing man wearing a black suit with neon pink accents. He did not look pleased.

Holding up his hand to Jax and Jetta, “ID’s please.”

They handed over their driver’s licenses, which he peered at, then at them, before handing the licenses back.

“Pussy House Rules welcomes you. Please take time to read the rules of the house at coat check,” he said in a monotone as he held open the door for them. The bass from the club music threatened to knock all three of them over.

“Is this where neon goes to die?” Jax asked.

He could not stop staring at the neon lights; neon pink or light purple lights bordered everything-mirrors, tables, chairs, the stages, the walls, and Jax feared if he stood there long enough he would get covered in neon. The neon gave everything a pink haze making it hard to distinguish colors.

“What?” Jetta shouted.

She could not stop staring at the stage; two women gyrated to a song she did not know, moving their hips, tits, and arms in beat with the music and the crowd of men in front of the stage ate up every move. When one of the women squatted in front of a group of men and began gyrating, money seem to explode out of the pack of men.

“The lights,” Jax shouted back pointing at the club, “Oh…” his sentence drifting off as he noticed the stage.

“Let’s get a seat,” Jetta said heading into the club.

“HEY!” a woman wearing a pink furry bra standing behind a counter shouted at them, “Coat check is five dollars!”

“We don’t have coats,” Jetta responded, walking over to the woman.

“Everyone has a coat,” the woman responded as she pointed at sign next to her counter.

A floor to ceiling sign announcing to everyone the “Rules of the Pussy House.”

  1. All patrons have a coat.
  2. All patrons must have a drink in front of them at all times.
  3. Patrons will not touch the dancers.
  4. Patrons will not get on stage.
  5. Patrons will be respectful of the women at all times.
  6. Failure to follow the rules will may result in harm to the patron.
  7. Pussy House Rules management is not responsible to any harm done to a patron because the patron did not follow the rules.

Jax handed over ten dollars to the woman.

“Thank you and have a good time,” she responded with a wink.

Jetta grabbed Jax by the arm and headed back into the club. They took notice of the three stages, one center stage where the two women continued to gyrate and two smaller stages to either side of the center stage, both were empty. On the far side of the room, a bar and DJ booth. The closest seating to the stage consisted of small two-person tables and as many chairs as could be packed into the tight space. The men nearest to the stage grabbed the closest chair when they needed to sit down. Drinks and empty glasses covered all of the tables. A main thoroughfare separated the stage seating and the next group of tables and chairs, arranged for small groups and couples. A smaller thoroughfare separated the middle section of seating for booths arranged against the back wall. A pink curtain covered entrance near the bar indicated where the private room was located.

The cartoon female cat adorned every available surface; walls, tabletops, glasses, napkins, stage curtains, and even on the seat cushions. Jetta noticed the outfits before Jax. Nudging him in the ribs to get his attention away from the dancer on stage, she nodded to a passing waitress. All of the waitresses had the same costume, furry pink cat ears, furry pink bra, furry pink thong, and furry pink cat tail.

Jetta sat down in a booth with a good view of center stage. Jax stood.

“Not tonight baby,” Jetta pleaded, “just this one time sit in a booth.”

“You know how I feel about booths.”

Jetta rolled her eyes, “I think everyone know how you feel about booths. Would you rather sit at one of the tables over there?” pointing towards some empty tables away from the stage.

Jax looked over his shoulder at the seating, and then moved out of the way of the cat waitress passing by.

“Fine, just this one time, but if we need to escape and cannot because we are trapped in a booth, I hold you responsible,” he said in one breath.

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Jetta said patting a space next to her and rolling her eyes.

Less than a minute later, a cat waitress appeared and took their order, Cokes for now, and returned less than a minute after that with two small glasses with watered down Coke.

“Seriously, seven dollars for this?” he complained.

“When she comes back, order us some beers, at least we will get drunk enough to forget about the cost,” Jetta responded.

The two dancers finally left the stage and for the first time since they arrived, the club was quiet. The stage lights dimmed and over the speakers “Jason” said in a woman’s voice followed by the opening notes of Talk Dirty To Me and the stage lights came up as Mandy strutted onto center stage wearing devil horns, a red reflective bra, red reflective g-string, devil tail, and carrying a pitchfork.

“…get jazzy…” heavy bass and she dropped into splits and popped back up to gyrate to the horns section. The men in front of the stage went crazy. In time with the music, she pointed to the men with the pitchfork and then Mandy grabbed the poll and swung around lowering herself to the stage.

“Uno, friend in Rio…” Mandy bent over in front of the men, squatting in front of them and gyrating her hips, before popping up to go around the poll again. When the horns section started up again she was extending a leg over the men and dropping down to let them stuff money into her g-string.

And just as suddenly, the music changed as Talk Dirty To Me ended, the DJ faded Marilyn Manson’s Sweet Dreams in so that by the time the audience had noticed the shift in music Mandy was dancing-acting out the lyrics “Some of them want to be abused,” when the first bass note hit, she flung her top off.

Mandy used the slow and fast pace of the song to collect money, dance, show off, and collect more money. Jax and Jetta could not take their eyes off her performance. Before the last note of her last song ended, Mandy had strutted off stage, her g-string stuffed with money and a new dancer was on stage.

A few minutes later, the waitress dropped off two more beers when Mandy sat down next to Jetta.

“What did you think?” Mandy shouted, grabbing Jetta’s hand and stood up, “Come on. Let’s go talk some place quieter.”

Jetta grabbed Jax pulling him out of the booth as the three of them headed behind the private room curtain. The private room was no different from the rest of the club-neon, pink, and the club’s cat on every surface. Banks of pink couches lined all of the walls with just enough space between banks to give the illusion that each bank was a separate space. On either end of the room were dancing polls. Other than the three of them, the room was empty.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Jetta asked as she sat down on a couch against the backwall.

“You liked that?” Mandy replied remaining standing.

“You were hot as hell,” Jax said sitting down next to Jetta. Immediately giving her his best “well she was” look.

“You were pretty hot,” Jetta agreed.

Mandy slowly danced in front of them to the music in the club, “I’ve been dancing on and off for a while,” when she saw their expressions, “No, not club dancing, just dancing. That’s all that was, dancing.”

“It looked..,” Jax struggled to find the right word.

“Hot. You looked sexy and like you were having fun,” Jetta finished.

“It’s more fun than I thought,” Mandy replied.

“Sit down and talk,” Jetta said patting an empty seat next to her.

“I can’t. If I am in here I have to be dancing,” Mandy said while dancing in front of Jetta, “I could get fired if Vincento walks in and I am not dancing.”

“I guess you should dance then,” Jax said with a smile, “Wanna a lap dance?” he asked Jetta.

Mandy stepped in front of Jetta, placed her hands on Jetta’s knees and pushed her legs apart, and stepped into the space. Moving with the music, Mandy slow danced in front of Jetta, her eyes always on Jetta’s eyes. She ran her hands over her body and used that motion to straddle Jetta’s leg, gyrating against her thigh while pressing her tits against Jetta. Jetta responded by grabbing ahold of Mandy’s ass, which earned her hands a slap and a waggled finger with a huge smile from Mandy as she danced off Jetta’s thigh and pointed at the Rules of the House sign in the room with a smile.

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One thought on “Nail Clippers, Pages 21-24

  1. Pingback: Nail Clippers, Pages 25 & 26 – Speaking Out On Life

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