Sinful Samantha

"GET the fuck here, you idiot prostitute!" he shouted and slid open the curtain of their dressing room. "Why the fuck you're taking so long?"

Samantha 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 Sinful Sassy," he said as his eyes leered on her slightly covered breasts. "Make them crazy."

Samantha 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 is worth a thousand dollars, but I can do anything that I want with that."

Fuck you. Samantha 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. Samantha's chest tightened, but she knew that there was 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, Sinful Sassy!" one of the audience shouted as soon as she stepped out. "Show that lovely body of yours!"

Samantha gritted her teeth. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She reminded herself once again why she was 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 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 audience a spectrum of red colors.

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

Samantha 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.

Samantha 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 Samantha's mouth quirked up. "That sounds interesting, honey. Wait for me outside then?"

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

Samantha 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, Samantha stood up and continued dancing around the pole-where her life cycle as a prostitute takes place every night.

_

"MOM...?"

Samantha's heart raced upon hearing her daughter's soft voice. Before she turned to face her, she pulled her wavy brown hair to cover the sides of her neck. She also made sure that her cardigan entirely covered her inner clothes.

"Yes, baby?" she asked with a kind smile. "It's too early to be awake already."

Her six-year-old daughter, Missy, rubbed her eyes. "I had a nightmare, Mommy..."

Samantha kneeled in front of her child and cupped her face. "What is it, Missy? Tell your mom."

"You left me in the middle of the night," she began, tears beginning to sting her beautiful eyes. "Mom, please don't leave when I'm asleep. It scares me."

Samantha heaved a sigh. She held her daughter's small hands and gave them a massage. "Missy, if I won't go to work, how am I going to buy our food?"

Missy pressed her lips together, trying her best to fight her tears from falling. "Do you really have to work at night? Why not during the king sun is still up?"

She reached to touch her daughter's cheeks. "If I'm going to work in the daytime, we're not going to have more time together. Who's going to bring and pick you up in school?"

Missy pouted her lips. "But... I want you to be with me when I'm sleeping."

Samantha brushed her daughter's hair. "Okay, I'll sleep with you tonight."

"My chest hurt last night," Missy said and started crying. "I'm sorry, Mommy..."

"Shh... it's okay, baby. Don't cry..." Samantha hugged her daughter. "I'm not mad..."

"Samantha..." Grace's bothered voice called her attention. "We're running out of stocks of Missy's meds. Because she often cried at night, more than to what is-"

"I'll go to her doctor after I send her to school," she cut off and looked at Missy. "We're going to the mall after your classes."

Missy's face lit up. "Really? You'll buy me a new dress?"

Samantha nodded. "And a new pair of shoes," she opened her purse and showed her the gift certificates that she got from her customer. "Look, this piece of paper can buy a lot of toys."

Missy's eyes widened in amazement. "Wow!" She took the tickets from her hand and looked at them. "I promise that I will never cry again at night, Mommy."

Samantha smiled and gave her daughter a peck in the cheeks. "Go with Tita Grace and eat your breakfast. I'm just going to change my clothes."

When Missy was busy with her breakfast, Grace went to her. Based on her expression, Samantha already knew what she was about to say. And she will give her the same answers.

"When are you planning to quit that kind of job?" Grace asked, brows furrowed. "Missy kept looking for you every night, and you know that it's bad for her heart to cry at night."

Samantha heaved a sigh. "I can't just quit, Grace. This is the only job that can support Missy's medications."

"But, it can also worsen her situation," she countered. "Samantha-"

"I'll find another job, Grace," she cut off and turned her back on her. "But, not now."

Samantha Ivanov works as a pole dancer in an after-hours club along Recto's busy streets, Manila. She'd been in this kind of job for three years. Luckily, every time there was a police raid, she was out of the club for some extra service. Thanks to her friend-slash-admirer PO1 Jacob Artem that gave her hints whenever their troops were planning to raid the illegal bars in their area.

Samantha went inside their bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Before tears could sting her eyes, she fought it back with a deep breath.

"Come on, Samantha. Don't shed tears with the decisions that you made," she told her reflection in the mirror. "This is your destiny. And you have to face it."

She took off her jacket, and there she saw the marks that cost a thousand dollars. Tears pooled around her eyes as she started to take off all her clothes. Samantha felt filthy, immoral, and lowly. But, it doesn't matter, as long as she can support her child's needs, everything was fine.

"Samantha? Missy's going to use the toilet," Grace's bothered voice pulled her from what seemed to be a nightmare in the daytime. "Are you done?"

"Y-yeah..." She put on her robe and opened the door. Grace's frowned expression welcomed her. "What's with that face?"

"Did you cry, Mom?" Missy asked.

Samantha wiped her face immediately before meeting her daughter's eyes. "No... I washed my face, and I haven't used the face towel."

Grace shook her head, not convinced of what she said. "Missy, go and use the toilet."

Samantha stepped out of the bathroom. She was about to go into their room when Grace called her. She looked over her shoulders but avoided her eyes.

"Yes, I had a night with a stranger," she said in a low voice, careful not to hear by her daughter. "And guess what? That stranger gave me dollars that can support Missy's meds for two months."

"Samantha-"

"Grace, let's not talk about it now..." she trailed off and walked towards her room.

She met Grace when she was a stray downtown girl in the city. She was an angel in disguise that saved her from miseries and death. She adopted her and gave her shelter in this world full of misfortunes and abusive people.

Where are she and Missy now if Grace didn't find her? Samantha sighed. She might be dead now.

"Am I not dying every day?" Samantha asked herself. She rolled her long wavy her into a bun on top of her head. "Am I not putting myself in danger every fucking night just to survive?"

Tears stung her eyes. Her chest tightened until it was hard for her to breathe. Every night, she's putting herself into that stage, dancing naked around the pole, exposing her private parts to the sea of people shouting for more than she can give.

But, there's nothing that she can't do for her daughter even if it means that she will dance naked all her life.

***