"Mitch, Mitch," a man
bellowed through the letter box.
Rubbing his eyes
in a daze he could hear someone calling his name, but slumber
made it difficult to focus why.
he prized himself out of bed. His alarm clock blinked 12:03A.M.
His TV was still
on. He glared at it puzzled, was the news reader on the screen
really taking about a bomb that exploded in some foreign country
or was he calling his name? Had he finally lost the plot?
its Dan, your Dad's mate," sounded the voice again,
followed by the sound of banging on the front door.
Realizing he was
not dreaming he unsteadily got to his feet.
Whoa! You going to break the door down,"
hollered back before undoing the several bolts, chains and locks
that his father insisted on having.
"Mitch, it's your
Dad, he's in trouble," said the
middle aged balding man, who claimed to be
Colin's friend but was actually one of his
now?" Mitch yawned. His father was always getting
into some sort of trouble, he was worse than any teenager that
the shit kicked out of him!"
not a surprise," Mitch yawned. "Where is he?"
though Mr. Mitchell was weedy, he was often in fights and always
coming off the worse. Due to his fragile frame and small height
he thought he had a lot to prove to any guy who was twice the
size of him. You know what they say about short guys, but really
Colin only became aggressive when everything started to go wrong
in his life, the final straw was losing his job.
shouted already half way down the stairs.
They ran for about 3 miles into the
next town. Mitch did not like to venture much here as it was full
of squaddies who declared their balls were bigger than anyone
They turned on to the street that
was home to a rough night club - Coco's
- and behind that down a dark alley was a seedy
strip joint Coco's
of Mitch's rugby training he was
fit and strong, whereas Dan was far from healthy.
he, he," he heaved,
there?"Mitch finished the sentence for him by asking
in response; he could no longer talk as he was bent over and
wheezing, desperate for air. He managed to shakily point to an
opening in the shadowed wall, guarded by two huge black bouncers,
suited and booted in tuxedos as if it was Vegas. Above was red
neon flashing sign 'CoCo's
Girls.' It was how you would
picture a typical strippers club, dark and uninviting.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, Mitch knew the place very well, he
was not a regular, and he was under age, to be a punter there for
this place you had to be 21, so really he should not be allowed
on the premises, but he always had to drag his father out before
he was pummelled to the ground.
of the establishment was a 60 year old ex-show girl known as
Coco, hence the name of the clubs. The flirtatious wrinkly
sagging woman constantly tried to persuade Mitch into her
boudoir, even before he turned 18, which was only 7 months ago,
but that didn't't seem to matter to the
mother of ten and even great grandmother to three. She was still
unhappily married to Victor, who claimed to have saved his wife
from corruption back when she was a performer in a Viennese
theatre. Back in those days it had to be erotic art forms
rather than throwing off your clothes for money.
could not stand Coco's line of work,
especially as he had to fund it from the money he made out of his
photography company. He had hoped it would have been a passing
phase, but the small venture had grown it into a big empire that
she had built up herself.
time Mitch entered the building Coco somehow knew. It was like
she would sniff out his deodorant. She would offer him alcoholic
drinks and a chance to go into one of the private rooms with her,
granny bashing was not Mitch's
thing so he would politely decline and try to avoid her.
"Evening Dillon," the
larger out of two bouncers acknowledged him.
He hated being called Dillon; it
was the name his slag - of - a
- mother had given him.
"You better get in there, Mitch, before your
Pap's gets' barred," the
other teased in his American accent.
wished that would happen then he would not get woken up in the
middle of the night to save his fathers' ass. Of course the
female pensioner would never bar her best customer, even if he
was not the best behaved, but he was a regular and had a passion
for her own brand of drugs. Coco found that the underworld of
growing and dealing paid a lot more then what her husband could
ever hope to achieve.
prized back the heavy red velvet curtains. Inside it was pitch
black except for the dodgy spotlights misted by foggy smoke from
cigarettes, and it reeked of sex. There were men of all sizes and
ages surrounding one guy, who was currently trying to clamber up
onto the stage. The other men were shouting and pushing the
person crawling around drunk. He rolled over revealing his
battered and bleeding face, as suspected it was Mr.
guy shouted kicking the fella in the stomach.
abdomen, and spitting blood on to the beer stained grey carpet,
he looked up barely able to see due to the swelling, though he
had enough vision to recognize his sons disappointed face. His
eyes pleading for help, fixed on his only son.
"Stop it, stop it," a girl
could be heard shrieking.
She came into
view by hurtling down the single runway from the Centre stage,
jutting out in the middle of the room. Her heels were clearly too
high as she tottled about as if on stilts.
it, leave him alone."
Colin reached up with a shaky hand.
Unlucky for the woman she had gotten too close and her scantily
glad gold sequined thong - not her
choice - was now clasped in his fingers.
She screeched, desperately trying
to hold up her dignity but the cheap tacky material snapped under
the strain of being pulled in different directions. The sound of
the underwear ripping lingered in her ears,
Mitch's father fell face
down onto the stage, his nose spurting red liquid but still
clutching the garment.
at that moment Mitch dashed forward, through the gathering crowd,
to save the day. To his shock when he reached his father he also
had a close encounter with the pole dancers neatly trimmed dark
froze, unable to look away, caught like a rabbit in the glare of
head lights. It was clean, fresher then he'd
expected a stripper's
be. He breathed in the smell of lavender, which he gathered was
her shower gel. The cheesy disco ball hanging low from the
ceiling reflected off a piece of metal slightly above his eye
line, it forced him to pay attention to it. It was a ring, no
bigger than his little finger nail, stapled through her clitoris
making the soft nugget of pink flesh poke out from its
confinement. Mitch could not take his eyes off of it;
seen a couple of pussies but no one like this.
had always lied to his mates about apparently having slept with
five girls, but in reality he had only recently lost his
virginity on his eighteenth to the local slut of the school,
Cassie Peters. It was not a pleasant experience. Cassie had
literally pounced on him in the back of her
Volvo estate. She had not bothered stripping off, just tore down
her knickers from under her black mini skirt. Her vagina had
smelt intoxicatingly bad, also she did not care about using a
condom, but Mitch was being sensible and refused to go any
further until he had rolled the thin rubber material down the
length of his penis, which did not want to play he did not know
if it was the pressure to perform or he just did not find the
easy frizzy ginger haired girl sexually attractive, but somehow
it managed to happen. He definitely regretted it. Afterwards
Cassie had told every student at the school about them being an
item, which was not true; Mitch did not want Cassie to be his
girlfriend. Luckily she did not know he had been a virgin so that
was his own little secret. Now that Mitch was being kept back
another year at school Cassie did not want to know him, she had
moved onto college boys.
undercarriage was beautifully sculptured. He's fingers were drawn to it,
but he refrained from touching not just because it was against
the rules to touch the strippers, but because he did not know
where this 'ho had been.
Of course to him all strippers
were whores and filthy, sleeping with anyone who
pays them. He stereotyped all those
kind of women as STI ridden prostitutes.
"Do you mind?" the
woman shouted in an English sophisticated tone rather than a
Mitch sprang back. To
his astonishment the angry dancer, covering her privates with
both hands, was someone he knew.