I nervously applied the last of my makeup in preparation for my debut at the Slice. Up until three months ago, no one besides my parents and physician had seen me nude, but now perfect strangers were going to be ogling me. My folks would have cardiac arrest if they saw me now. They were opposed to me joining the police force to begin with. My dad wanted me to follow in my family's tradition of corporate law, but being the head-strong woman I am, I forged my own path. However, when I agreed to work undercover, I had no clue I'd be working in a topless bar.
A cute little Asian gal named Ginger (whom I had just met a few minutes ago) said, "You better hurry up. We're due to be on in five minutes and Inna doesn't like it when the bar-girls are late for the shift change... God, I wish I had your tits." She winked.
I stood back, took a deep breath and one last look at myself. Except for my heels and tiny black thong that barely covered my privates, I was completely naked. The transmitter the FBI had placed in my hair was broadcasting non-stop and video feed through my barrette was active. I guess the guys in the van were seeing what I was seeing and hearing everything.
There's nowhere to hide my badge and gun, I thought with a chuckle.
"Let's do this," I softly uttered to myself, mustering up the courage to bare all to the public for the first time. As I stepped out of the dressing room, an icy blast from the air conditioners hit me, instantly causing goosebumps down my arms. The unrestrained sway of my breasts didn't feel natural to me because I almost always wore a bra, even at home. Being a good Catholic girl, I was reared to avoid even the slightest hint of sexual exposure.
I developed breasts early on in my life, which were nothing to me but an extreme inconvenience. I remember wrapping my chest with an Ace bandage to hide them from stares and lewd comments. I was a full B before I even turned thirteen. While in high school and college I continued to wear minimizing brassieres... My, how times have changed.
I scanned the room and noticed no one was looking at me. I wasn't sure if I was relieved or insulted. Everyone was too busy setting up things for the evening to even notice me. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my elbow and turned. It was Inna; she was looking me up and down. Her critical gaze made me feel self-conscious, but I tried not to show it.
"You're a very beautiful girl," she said this not as a compliment but more like a breeder looking at livestock. I was surprised she didn't check my teeth.
"You need to get some sun on those tits," Inna added, "but those pervs are gonna love you!" She half laughed to herself.
I was taken by surprise when Inna pulled out the crotch of my thong. "I see you shaved... somewhat. If you get here early, the spa will wax you at no charge. The guys pay top dollar to see skin, honey. Now go introduce yourself to the tall blonde girl by the bar. Her name is Sandy. She'll be your mentor."
"I thought Janine was going to be my mentor."
"Janine was given a promotion. Viktor has taken a liking to her. She is now his... personal secretary. In fact, I think she's in his office right now taking care of something that popped up." Inna giggled.
All the other girls were busy with customers or table arrangements. The musicians were setting up for live music. The bar workers were stacking glasses and stocking liquor, preparing for a busy night. Somehow I felt less self-conscious knowing I was only one of many girls in the buff.
I approached my new mentor and said, "Sandy?"
"You must be the new girl."
"Yes, I'm Alex. Inna said to report to you."
"Alex? Isn't that a boy's name? Sounds masculine. Come on, sweetheart... You have another?" She sounded irritated with me..
"Alexia?" I nervously suggested.
"Alexia it is. Now take these drinks over to table eleven."
"Um, which table is number eleven?"
"Don't tell me you're completely green? Have you even waited tables before?"
I stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "No," I replied softly. "I haven't. But I'm a quick study."
"Follow me," she sighed. "Stay quiet and learn. It takes more than great tits to do this job, doll." Sandy picked up the tray and sauntered over to a table with five rowdy guys. I followed silently. My trained police observation skills kicked into gear. Out of the five, three were passive and two were competing for alpha male.
Sandy set the drinks on the table, ignoring their comments about her ass and held out the bar tab. I figured the two alphas would fight for it, which they did.
"Who's the new chick?" said a particularly loud guy I'll call "alpha two." He reached out to grab my breast, and with one trained move I put him in a police wrist lock. The look of shock on his face was priceless. All the other guys at the table laughed at him.
Sandy rolled her eyes. "The new girl's Alexia," she casually said. "You don't want to fuck with her. She was an assassin for the mob."
"Fuck off, you're kiddin' me!" The loud mouth looked surprised but talked softer.
"You wanna find out?" Sandy placed her hand on her hip. "She's going to be your server."
I liked Sandy instantly, and had to try my hardest not to burst out laughing.
After we walked away, she put her hand on my shoulder and smiled. "That was way cool, girlfriend! But those are Giovanni's men. Trust me, you don't want to get on their bad side."
"They weren't abiding by the 'no-touching rules.'"
"Hun, they pretty much have carte-blanche around here, though I'm quite convinced you've.. got their attention." She laughed. "Just be careful."
The way these guys ran their mouths I could see how my job would be advantageous in gaining information. I overheard them bragging about how they do all the thankless jobs, like "offing" chatty Kathy's that talk with authorities. They even boasted about how they'd have their fun with their victims before they'd kill them in the most grotesque ways. The case of the girl found in the trash bin was their handy work. Each one was trying to outdo the other. In the twenty minutes I waited on their table, I'd had enough on them to put them away for life.
Toward the end of my shift, Sandy handed me my work schedule that gave my hours and assignments. It showed my bar times, but also my dancing times. Something suddenly confused me. I immediately went back to Sandy.
"I think there was a mistake here," I said. "The schedule says I dance two days a week."
"You should feel privileged. They almost never pick rookies to dance."
I nervously bit my lip, and I think Sandy picked up on what was bothering me.
"Don't tell me you haven't pole danced before either?" she said.
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"Not even for your boyfriend?"
"Well, yes... I dance for him, but not with a pole—unless you include his pole." I giggled.
"Here's what you should do. Get him to come watch you dance for the first time and pretend it's for him alone. It will help you relax."
