Caught Up. Shannon Holmes

      Finally she found her locker, which was in the middle of the room, between the bathroom and the exit. It was a heavily trafficked area. Dixyn stood in front of her locker fully clothed, just as stuck as she imagined Kendra was, while a dozen or so scantily clad and naked bodies orbited around her. Although Kendra had given her a pep talk the night before, it was obvious that this didn’t help her now. Suddenly Dixyn was having second thoughts about this entire situation. Her conscience was consumed by a series of flashbacks of the scenes which had brought her to this moment in the first place. Pull it together, she told herself. Do it for your daughter.

      “Yo, Dixyn!” a familiar voice called out. “What’s Gucci?”

      Dixyn let out a huge sigh of relief. She spotted Kendra strutting her way through the locker room, coming toward her. This was enough for Dixyn to quickly regain her bravery and focus. Kendra’s presence went a long way toward calming her nerves.

      “Damn, Kendra, where the fuck have you been? I only called you all night.”

      “There you go with that shit again,” Kendra responded. “I been busy. I’m here now, that’s all that matters.”

      “My bad, Kendra. I thought you’d keep your word this time and actually come somewhere with me.”

      “Bitch, you killin’ me. Stop actin’ like a big baby ’bout shit. It’s not that serious. I’m not always there when you call, but I’m always on time. You heard that song before? Enough of the chitchat, we gotta get dressed. It’s almost time for you to go on.”

      “Go on?” Dixyn repeated weakly.

      “Yeah, you know, strip!” Kendra fired back. “That is what you’re here for and what you will be paid to do.”

      Kendra began to strip out of her street clothes with Dixyn following suit right beside her. They stuffed their personal belongings inside their respective lockers, leaving nothing but the outfits they planned on wearing and small designer clutch purses lying on the bench beside them.

      Kendra donned bright gold, metallic, nine-inch heels with a matching G-string that seemed to disappear between her ass cheeks. She chose to remain topless, exposing her firm, ripe titties to anyone who looked her way. Dixyn was still getting dressed while Kendra stood anxiously waiting on her.

      “You’re after Fonda, girl. You ready?”

      Dixyn untied the string from the bikini top around her neck, going topless like Kendra. She shrugged. “I guess so.”

      “Well, what is it going to take for you to be sure? You need a drink? You want me to get an E, a molly, or what?”

      Kendra removed her MAC lipstick from her purse and applied a coat to her full lips. She pressed them together and smiled. “I know, do a line with me, then you’ll be ready.”

      “You know I don’t get down like that, Kendra.” Dixyn walked over to the bathroom with Kendra close behind and looked into the mirror, adjusting her long false eyelashes. “Just break the money down to me again.”

      Kendra stood behind her and gently massaged her shoulders with her sweaty hands. She stared at her reflection as she spoke. “Notti charges all the boys at the door—that’s the ‘house.’ We each get a part of that off the top. What we make on the floor is ours to keep. The harder you work, the more customers you get, the more money you get. You feel me, Dix?”

      “Yeah.”

      “VIP is two fifty guaranteed, but it’s up to you to go that route. Niggas are gonna press you, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Remember that.”

      Dixyn had to admit that Kendra talked a good game. She told Dixyn she was perfect for the job. She promised all she had to do was look cute, shake her ass a little, and she would make more in one night than she would in a week working the average nine-to-five.

      “Here comes Fonda,” Kendra said abruptly. “That’s the chick I told you about.”

      Fonda walked into the bathroom talking loudly. “I need a fuckin’ drink! Those niggas are animals!”

      Dixyn stared at the young woman’s slender naked body while she checked herself out in the mirror. To Dixyn, she was entirely too pretty to be dancing for dollars. She looked like she should be in someone’s hip-hop magazine. She was tall with beautiful long hair and perfect skin—though Fonda was far from the woman she appeared. She was right where she wanted to be, doing what she wanted to do. Fonda’s money was long, and she surely put in the work for it.

      “I have two VIPs lined up already. Rent is due, bitches!” Fonda tapped Dixyn on the shoulder and she jumped. “Yo, you Dixyn?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Nice to meet you,” Fonda said politely. “Now that the formalities are out of the way, you need a stage name. You look like a Destiny. Now, Notti said to hurry your ass up. You’re supposed to walk out as soon as I’m done.”

      “You sure you don’t want any of this?” Kendra asked, holding out a few odd-looking pills in the palm of her hand.

      “No, I’m good,” Dixyn answered, standing up and adjusting the tiny thong.

      Kendra slapped her hard on the ass. She and Fonda giggled. “Shake what your mama gave you, bitch.”

      What Dixyn’s mother had given her was good sense and morals, but all of that had gone out the window when she started fucking around with Bryce Winters. Bryce Winters was well known because he moved units—major units. Before Bryce Winters, Dixyn Greene didn’t even know what a “unit” was. It felt like Kendra was finishing the job that Bryce had started, corrupting her further.

      As Dixyn began to make her way toward the door, she turned, expecting Kendra to be right there behind her. Instead, her friend had moved to the bathroom, drinking and drugging with Fonda.

      “Go ahead, I’ll be right there,” Kendra promised.

      Dixyn didn’t even bother to reply. It was all or nothing now. Kendra had led the horse to water; all she had to do was drink. This was a surreal moment. Dixyn couldn’t believe she was actually about to remove her clothes for money. She took one deep breath and opened the door, entering the club.

      “Don’t stop, pop that, don’t stop . . .” Rapper French Montana’s hit record was blaring through the sound system as Dixyn walked obediently to the stage. Her presence immediately caught the eyes of many patrons. Their lustful stares inspected every part of her body. The looks were so long and so hard that Dixyn felt violated. Quickly she made her way through the crowd toward the stage. She found the area crowded with another large group of men. Dixyn navigated her way through them, but not without having her private parts groped by numerous customers.

      The makeshift stage was elevated only a few feet off the floor with two poles that extended from floor to ceiling. Dixyn was literally within arm’s reach of any horny man who wanted to touch her. She began to feel more nervous, and not just because of the rowdy men. It was the presence of the poles that truly rattled her. Kendra had neglected to mention them.

      Dixyn surveyed her surroundings and didn’t see anyone she recognized, so she took another deep breath, smiled, and walked to center stage. Dancing was the easy part; it was the possibility of getting recognized by someone she knew that scared her to death. While the bass pumped through Dixyn’s body, she remembered what Kendra had told her. Just pretend you’re alone in your bedroom dancing for Bryce or twerkin’ on his dick. You know how to ride dick, right?

      Dixyn bypassed the pole and decided to do exactly what Kendra suggested. She pretended she was in front of Bryce. She played with her titties just like he did. She dropped to the floor and loosened the string on the sides of her thong. She let it fall to the floor and grinded hard, just like she did when she rode Bryce. Dixyn turned around and caught a glimpse of a few full erections. The cheers and catcalls alerted her that it was time to show the goods.

      Stripping was an out-of-body