Billy

Billy has a lot of money.

The majority of the big spenders that come into our club are old. Or, at least, not handsome. At all.

The best part about Billy is that he's young. Very young. And handsome.

Very handsome.

And a big spender.

By "big spender," I mean a whole lot of money. A LOT of money. The very top of the top.

Billy comes into the club a lot.

Ever since the first night he spotted me on the floor, and invited me into his VIP booth, I am now, to this day, always one of his girls. He usually picks three.

I love when he comes in. Because I'm guaranteed loads of cash, flirtatious fun, and a nice champagne and strawberries buzz by the end of the night.

Last night, I danced for Billy.

"Choke me," he said.

"What?"

"Choke me."

I reluctantly put my hands around his neck.

"Harder!" his voice strained.

I did it harder like he said to. I was still dancing.

He pulled my hands off his neck and gasped for air. I didn't know what to say. I kept dancing.

"Slap me," he said.

"What?"

"Slap me!"

Surprisingly willing, I slapped him.

"Harder!"

I slapped him harder, just like he wanted me to.

I stopped moving, and just sat there, straddling him.

We looked at each other and smiled. It felt like a really long time.

He quickly pulled my legs together and put them to the side. He grabbed me close as I curled into his lap. We held each other tight. I could feel how lonely we both truly were.

This is when I don't mind the job at all.