Angelic Sin

“ANGELA, aren’t you done? It’s your turn now!”

Angela smirked upon hearing the anger in her manager’s tone. “I’m almost done—”

“Get the fuck here, you idiot prostitute!” he shouted and slid opened the curtain of their dressing room. “Why the fuck you’re taking so long?”

Angela rose from her seat. After putting on her red lipstick, she covered her hazel brown eyes with a red feathery mask. “Come on, boss. I just wanted to make this night memorable for our foreign guests.”

The crease on the pimp’s forehead disappeared. “Make sure that you’ll bring me more money tonight, my Red Angel,” he said as his eyes leered on her slightly covered breasts. “Make them crazy.”

Angela pressed her lips into a fake smile. “When did I fail you, boss?”

“Go now and get all their money,” he commanded and gave her butt a squeeze when she passed by him in the door. “That body worth a thousand dollars, but I can do anything that I want with that.”

Fuck you. Angela wanted to say, but she controlled herself. This is not the right time for her to do that. She needs this dirty job because this is the only way that she can earn a large amount of money in a short time. Money is what she needs.

As soon as the curtain opened, a roar of whistle filled the dark hall. All of them were shouting her stage name. Angela’s chest tightened, but she knew that there’s no turning back now. She had done this several times, but every time her feet stepped on the stage, a familiar thump of nervousness knocked inside her chest. Maybe it was her conscience, trying to wake her up from her nightmare—a nightmare that she chose to experience.

“Strip that dress, Red Angel!” one of the audiences shouted as soon as she stepped out. “Show that lovely body of yours!”

Angela gritted her teeth. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She reminded herself once again why she’s doing this dirty job. And, in an instant, her disgust and fear towards the sea of people vanished.

A piece of loud sensual music aired, and she started to sway her hips as her hands gripped on the pole in the center stage. The exciting gasps and noises grew louder as the spotlight focused on her. Cheap details on her net-like dress sparkled against the light giving the audiences a spectrum of red colors.

“Strip it off! I’ll pay you three hundred dollars!” an old man in a business suit shouted.

Angela stopped circling the pole and sauntered towards the old man. Her tongue traced her red lips as she kneeled in front of him.

The old man hurriedly put out his thick wallet and threw her a hundred bills. “Strip that dress—”

“Shh…” She put her finger on his lips. “I’ll let you pull this lace for five hundred dollars.”

“Let me touch those tits for one thousand dollars,” he said and placed his money on the stage.

Angela smiled. “I like that…” She whispered and leaned closer to the old man.

The old man’s fingers quivered as he slowly reached for her blouse’ laces. His wrinkled eyes grew wider in excitement. “I’ll give you three thousand dollars if you come with me tonight…” he whispered.

The corners of Angela’s mouth quirked up. “That’s sounds interesting, honey. Wait for me outside then?”

“Hey, lucky old man! Pull that lace off!” shouted an impatient audience.

Angela chuckled. She grabbed the old man’s hand and guided it to her breasts. “Don’t let them see what will be yours later…”

The old man’s surprised expression changed. Before he could grope her breasts, Angela stood and continued dancing around the pole—where her life cycle as a prostitute takes place every night.

***