Habit To Heels Chapter 10

Amateur Night/ Backstage Chair

Tara is shivering from both the cold and her jittery nerves, as she walks inside Bonita's Spice Sweet Spice. The nun steps in something that makes her right shoe sticky. The vibe is similar to The Silver Mirage. She is reminded of the same stench that is a mix of stale cigar smoke, old carpet, and dust. The entire place has taken on a Film Noir feel, dim, hazy, and smokey.   A Disco beat shakes the building. Lights flash with a combination of pinks, purples, and oranges. The walls are lined with faded posters featuring nude women. On the back wall, is a hand-painted pastel mural of a naked girl riding a bike.  

A short rectangular stage stands in the Center of Bonita's. Backstage is shielded by a large dusty Curtain. The cloth is heavy, thick, and old. A part in the center allows anyone to peek through, either way. The front of the stage is equipped with spotlights and three brass stripper poles.

Bonita's Spice Sweet Spice was a bit different than The Silver Mirage. For one thing, the dancers when not on stage wore partly nothing. Most of them were always topless or just a small bra and panties. At The Silver Mirage when the dancers were not on stage they had form-fitting dresses on. Also, the guys at The Silver Mirage were older and wore ties. The guys at Bonita's Spice Sweet Spice were mostly younger, in jeans and work boots. It just is more of a blue-collar crowd.

The DJ booth is near the back, blasting the beat to the point of nausea. The DJ is a large bald black man wearing headphones, and his bright yellow T-shirt reads, Big Lincoln.

A short stocky blonde with too much blue eye shadow is standing in front of the entrance. She is wearing a black shiny corset that barely keeps her tits in check. Looking up, "Ya' here to strip in the amateur contest? Or just watching?" pushing a clipboard toward Tara.

"Dance," the nun manages to say, taking in her surroundings.

The girl at the counter continues, "Fill out your real name and your stage name."

Tara not realizing that she needs a stage name quickly jots down,   Miss. T.

The corset girl points and says, "Follow Fred.   He'll show you the dressing room."

Fred's eyes scan the new stripper from top to bottom. Smiling, he says, "Very pretty. You'll do just fine."

Tara is not happy with Fred's offhand comment. She realizes that tonight she will be judged on her appearance and her sexuality.   This was something she had not considered before. More bad news, Tara frowns, glancing down at the sign-up sheet. She spots a familiar name, Cara from dance class is also dancing tonight.

The dressing room is large, smoky, and cluttered. The walls are lined with dirty and smudged mirrors. Various types of chairs are scattered about, facing every direction. The room looks like it was decorated in the style of Early American Garage Sale. Cigarette smoke fills the air.

A dozen or so strippers, in various degrees of attire, are sitting or leaning in front of mirrors. The girls are changing, putting on makeup, and chatting. Most are smoking and sipping from cans of beer, or whatever they've managed to sneak in. It's generally dark, but several makeup lights add a strange sterility to the atmosphere. All over the place, cigarette butts with red lipstick marks lie resting in ashtrays.

Tara concludes that smoking, drinking, and nudity are the norm here--not like St. Rose.

Fred points to the guy in front and says, "That's Sid. He runs the amateur night."

Sid's voice is gruff from a lifetime of smoking. He announces, "Alright, ladies. Some of you have heard this before, others have not. I have to go over the rules, state laws, and all that garbage." He begins to gesture. "Here's the deal. You've got three songs each. Each amateur stripper contestant tells the DJ your stage name and the three songs. Strip nude or dance with all your clothes on--I don't care. But, you know, it's been a while since anyone kept anything on. Got it?"

Winking, Sid gets a few laughs from the room, and a throaty few coughs.

Sid's rough voice continues. "OK, rules. You girls cannot touch yourselves. I repeat, no touching yourselves. Any tips that guys throw at you while on stage, 20% goes to the waitresses and the bar girls. Also, 20% goes to the DJ. You can keep the rest. Talking to guys is OK, but no private or lap dances. The Bonita strippers will be hustling lap dances and drinks during the contest. Let them do their job."

Tara seems to be the only one paying attention. Cara, wrapped in a towel, is sitting right in front of Tara. Dolly, wearing a bra and G-string, is sitting next to Cara.

Tara, spotting Dolly, thinks: Does this girl ever wear clothing?

Dolly says, "Look, it's Tara, who does the pole class with us at Grand Ave. Exercise."

Dolly taps Cara on the shoulder. Cara glances up for a brief moment but then leans forward in her chair and puts her shoes on.

Dolly continues, "I work here as a stripper, so if you've got questions, just ask. I'll bet you're a first-timer?"

Tara, after looking around, says, "Yes, it's all new to me. Is it obvious?"

Wearing a superficial smile, Cara quickly turns around. "Well, good luck," she says, and abruptly turns back. Cara stands, removes her towel, and slips into a form-fitting neon red elastic tube dress. She tucks her boobs in and pulls the dress up over her form. Her ass cheeks stick out clearly at the bottom of the dress.

A Black girl, who is nude except for a pair of white thigh-high nylons, leans toward the mirror, fixing her makeup. She smiles and says, "Tonight's my night. I'm going to win." Nodding toward Cara and lowering her voice so only Tara can hear, she adds, "I've got to beat that bitch tonight." She snickers.

Tara quickly strips out of her sweat outfit, pulls up, and adjusts her G-string. She puts on her bra, then slips her cream-colored dress over her head and fixes her hair. She puts on the heels and tightens the straps. She fixes her makeup and reapplies the lipstick.

A heavy-set girl, smiling and laughing with the others, applies a bold red lipstick. Laughing as she looks over toward Tara, she says, "Fuck Me Red. My color too."

Tara walks behind the DJ booth. The music is loud, and the beat is reverberating. She speaks over the sound of the music, "My stage name will be Miss T."

Big Lincoln looks up, removes his headphones, and holds the clipboard out toward the amateur stripper. "Write the three songs," he quickly states.

Tara jots down Pretty Woman, Nobody Does It Better. Again, speaking loudly over the music, she says, "You know, from the movie The Spy Who Loved Me."

Big Lincoln looks up, "Yeah, I know the movie. I may have that one. Write down the third."

Tara writes Bad Girls.

Big Lincoln replies, without looking up or making eye contact, "Got it."

Backstage, in an empty, unsuspecting corner, Tara finds a large chair. She neatly folds and places Ruth's antique sheer negligée, with gloves and matching belt, on the backrest. They are safe and out of the way until Tara needs to get them quickly.

The nun walks up to the bar at Bonita's Spice Sweet Spice, wearing her form-fitting dress and six-inch heels. With a face full of makeup and bright red lips, Tara starts to build her confidence. Many heads turn and watch her. Tara can immediately feel the eyes upon her as she walks, still trying to get used to the heels. Making her way to the far side of the bar, Tara sits next to the full-figured girl with the same lipstick color.

The metallic sound over the speaker: "Who's ready to make some noise for our weekly amateur hour!!! These girls are competing tonight for $250.00 big ones!! And they are taking it off just for you! And don't forget to tip your waitstaff and bar staff!"

The guys in the club do not seem receptive, but they do join in, "Yeah!" Scattered clapping can be heard in the distance.

After the announcement, the Black girl dances. She struts around for two songs, then strips, keeping the white nylons on. She swings her large breasts like pendulums, as she removes her bra. She dances well, but mostly just sticks her ass out toward the guys in the front row. They reward her by throwing dollars on stage as she dances.

Scanning the place, Tara spots Cara and Dollya talking on the other side of the club. Cara gestures like she is throwing away something, and they both begin to laugh.

The heavy girl gets up. "I'm nervous, I've never stripped. Here I go." As she walks out, she simply stands there, quickly removes her clothing right off the bat, and even kicks off her shoes. She walks around nude on stage for three songs, bows, picks up the few tips she does get, scoops up her clothes, picks up her shoes, and sits back next to Tara as she gets dressed. "Did I do well?" she asks.

Tara flashes a fake smile, both hands making a thumbs-up. "Your lipstick was awesome."

Dollya comes over and stands right by Tara as Cara dances. Cara comes out in the tube dress, which she quickly wriggles out of. Dollya leans in to tell Tara, "Watch this. We've been working on it all week."

Sure enough, Cara quickly ascends to the top of the brass pole and manages to remove her top and panties. While nude, she gives the crowd the full spread view and spins down.

Tara smiles at Dollya. "Quite a performance." Still getting used to the shoes, she stumbles her way backstage.

Dollya adds, "Break a leg."

Tara looks back. "I just might with these shoes." Tara laughs nervously.

Backstage, she quickly checks to make sure her sheer negligée is where she left it.

Standing behind the curtain, Tara listens. Through a crackling speaker: "Next up! It's Misty, and don't forget to tip your waitstaff and bar staff!"

Tara, backstage, holds the curtain in each hand and peeks through the middle opening. The curtain feels heavy and old and smells of smoke. The heavy bass intro of Pretty Woman takes over the sound. Tara looks down and checks herself one last time. Now or never. Deep breath in, and then exhales. She struts out onto the stage for her debut.

Every eye in the place watches the new stripper, as Tara attempts to keep her movements fluid with the music. Awkward at first. She feels the spotlights on her skin, the shoes feel tight and unbalanced.

Guys in the front row whistle at the beautiful stripper. Tara can hear them, but with the lighting, she can barely make their shadows out.

Cara and Dollya watch, seated at the bar. "She does look good," Dollya attempts to make small talk.

Tara smiles at a guy in the front row who has just thrown a dollar on stage--her first tip as a stripper. Tara is beginning to enjoy her moment. She likes all the attention, and she doesn't have to remove anything. Okay, you got out on stage. Time to elegantly remove this dress.

At center stage, Tara pulls on the straps of her dress. Grinding and turning her hips, as she performs. As the shoulder straps settle she slips her arms out exposing her silver push-up bra. Suddenly and unexpectedly she feels her dress fall to the floor. In an instant, it is around her ankles.

She smoothly transitions from her gown now standing on stage in her underwear. Tara, making it look like part of the act all along. Tara tries to put on a fake smile. She kicks the dress off to the side. It gets caught in one of the six-inch heals, but is quickly pushed to the side without problem. With a confident smile, she walks around the stage in her push-up bra and G-string, spinning a few times around the brass pole. She feels exposed but in control. Almost nude to the world, the nun is having her moment. As the first song comes to an end, Carly Simon's voice begins the second track.

Tara has a new control over her movements and body, she knows that every guy in the club is watching with antici....... pation. (Another Carly Simon Song LOL). Tara begins to realize, that the crowd can see her ass cheeks. Her skin is on display to the world. She begins to love the attention.  

Several men in the audience step up, tipping as they get close to admire her. One hands her a dollar and says, "I'll never forget this. You're so beautiful." Tara smiles and blows a quick kiss. She thinks, Where did that come from?

Cara leans over to Dollya. "I thought you said she couldn't dance?"

Dollya, over the music, replies, "She has been working on it. A lot of improvement recently, I guess."

Tara can feel eyes on her, every sway of her hips holding their attention. She climbs the pole, descending slowly, knowing the second song is about to end. Sticking to her plan, saunters toward the curtain, turning her back to the crowd. She unhooks her bra and spins around with her hands cupping both of her breasts holding up the bra and preventing it from falling. She dances moving her hips slowly. She turns her back to the crowd, to tease some more. Then she holds out the bra to one side, topless seen from the back. Grinding her hips. Covering herself with one hand as she drops the bra onto the stage floor spins, and instantly disappears backstage just as the second song ends. She is backstage and can hear some clapping and smatterings of cheers.

Quickly behind the curtain, with a flick of her wrist, she removes the G-String. Standing backstage nude she makes her way quickly to the chair where she left the negligée. It's not there. The gloves and the silk belt are also gone. Trying not to panic, she checks around the chair and under it. She looks under the cushion. Dust flies up in the air almost making her sneeze. She can hear the third song begin. The nun spins looking around for her outfit on the floor and even peers down the hall, no negligée.