MetaWrite 6000 : I Meta Girl at the Gates of Hell : Part One


“Wake up Selina”

Roused from her impromptu slumber Selina J opened her eyes and stared wearily at her smeared reflection in the grubby mirror opposite.

“What the?!” she exclaimed, leaning further towards the mirror whilst muttering such existential questions as ‘Who am I?’ followed by ‘What am I?’

The ‘who’ was clearly established in the very first sentence of this story – she is Selina J. Her second question however was not derived from any willingness to deeper understand her place in the universe, after all who does that the moment they wake up? Normally, the only meaningful question to be asked at that time is ‘Where is the coffee?’

Indeed, if there were to be any aspect of spirituality in her demand to know ‘who she was’ it would be for the very simple reason that as she stared into the mirror it became immediately apparent that she was dressed as a Nun.

Such a revelation led Selina to follow up with a less than philosophical statement when she declared ‘I’m a fucking Nun!’

That expletive laden observation should in itself be sufficient to indicate that Selina was far from Nun material. Indeed, very little about the way she had led her life would indicate she was destined for a higher calling. But as Selina was about to find out appearances can be deceiving and things are not always what they immediately seem.

Selina studied the mirror, its frame was constructed of cheap wood that was chipped and stained. A number of light-bulbs adorned the top, all haphazardly attached by wire stapled into the frame. The bulbs were of a variety of colours albeit some no longer performed the task they had been design for, instead they dangled forlornly like a pathetic Christmas decoration. Other lights refused to go the same way as their neighbours and flickered defiantly, prepared to see out the dying moments of illumination with at least some usefulness.

The mirror itself was dingy, a sheet of dust coated the reflective material. No attempt had been made to clean the mirror, instead someone had simply drawn the crude outline of a heart through the grime. The bottom corner was cracked which framed a lipstick mark still prominent below the gloom of the dust.

The desk upon which the mirror stood was equally of poor quality and rocked due to an uneven leg. It would have rocked more violently but a stack of what seemed to be 1980s porn magazines kept some semblance of balance.

A variety of cosmetics lay strewn across the desk; lipstick, mascara and perfume all jostled for position upon the surface. The chair upon which Selina sat was worn. The imitation leather was ripped to reveal the foam interior. As she looked around the rest of the room, which was nothing more than bare walls, Selina was certain she was not in a place of worship.

Indeed, if the dubious stains on the floor were anything to go by should people get on their knees in here it certainly wasn’t with the intention of praying.

“Selina hurry up will ya! They’re waiting”

She turned to see a rather rotund man leaning against the doorway. He wore a white short sleeved shirt unbuttoned to reveal a mass of tight curly grey hair interspersed with more darker strands.

His face was large and unkind; the full flabbiness of his skin slightly disguised by a beard. The hair on his head matched that on his chest, which clung damply to his forehead with sweat.

A lit cigarette rested between his yellowing teeth, although the smell of nicotine did little to disguise the stench of body odour that emanated from this stout gentleman. Patches of sweat were visible under his armpits.

“Waiting for what?” Selina asked, still searching for the answer to who she was, despite the clear number of clues in the preceding paragraphs.

The fat man laughed “They are waiting for you to read the Gospel of Luke to them” He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew smoke in her direction “What do you think they are fucking waiting for? Now get up and get out there!”

Selina stood up and glanced once more towards the mirror. What reflected back at her would provide the unambiguous answer as to who she was.

She was not wearing a long tunic that one would expect a Nun to wear for hers was a lot shorter. It was so short that one could quite clearly see the lacy black panties she wore. Her legs were not bare but instead decorated with glossy black stockings, the tops of which were clearly visible. Her attire was completed by a pair of high chunky black heels.

“I’m a fucking stripper!” she exclaimed.

The fat man smiled displaying all his yellow teeth “Yeh you are and you’re my best girl so get out there”

He playfully spanked her behind as he ushered her onto the stage. It was dark but Selina could hear the mutterings of anticipation from the assembled crowd.

Disguised by the darkness of the stage she instinctively knelt down and clasped her hands together. Despite her initial confusion as to who she was an internal narrative now compelled her. She knew who she was and what she had to do.

The spotlight switched on illuminating her for the crowd to see, they expressed their pleasure by loud cheers. Then the music started, some cheesy 1980s electro-pop as Selina gracefully rose to her feet and begun shimmying and shaking along to the beat.

The ensemble of eager men whooped and applauded as she made her way across the stage ensuring all at the front row got a decent look. These patrons were the important ones, they were in the ‘tipping seats’.

It was a relatively low turn out and a few of the ‘tipping seats’ were empty. It was a Wednesday afternoon and later that night ought to be busier with a lot of drunk and horny guys clambering for the front row.

Selina allowed the guys clutching the most money in their fist to get the best view; writhing and crawling on the stage to entice that money away from them. A number of them eagerly obliged and soon the money clip that was securely attached to her garter started to fill up with notes.

The guys cheered with delight as Selina threw off her Nun’s habit revealing her breasts, the nipples teasingly encased in tassels. She spun them around near the face of one patron who hypnotically parted with more of his money.

Selina looked out towards the back of the room where the bar was situated , a number of men stood ogling her while they supped on overpriced watered down beer.

Get to the front and pay you cheap bastards.

To the left in the shadows of the booths, where the lapdances were normally performed, she saw a guy who appeared desperately to be trying to avoid looking at her. It was odd behaviour for someone at a strip club…..you come to watch! But her concern was not with those who had no intention of tipping her and her attention returned to the front row as she performed a number of tantalising squats and thrusts, much to the howls of approval from those who watched.

She glanced down at her money clip, the tips had been good but not great. For the right price she would tear the tassels off along with her panties and give them a real show; that’s what made her such an attraction at the club. But not today, she may be many things but she certainly wasn’t cheap.

Sorry boys! Just tease. No show.

Selina did one final circuit of the tipping seats to remove the patrons from the last of their notes. However, they had become wise to the fact that they were not going to experience one of Selina’s Special Shows and clung onto their money for another time.

Her act concluded with a unenthusiastic if not athletic turn on the pole before finishing back on her knees just as the tinny pop beats finished. With the stage once again shrouded in darkness she made her way off.

The fat man grabbed her arm as she went past “Hey not to so fast. You’ve got a lap dance to perform”

Selina looked up at his sweaty face, she was not really in the mood and just wanted to return to the grubby sanctuary of her room “Can’t someone else do it?”

“They have asked specifically for you and paid for the full works!” the fat man replied

“But I’m not feeling that good to be honest” she pleaded.

The fat man tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her in closer. Selina could smell his rank odour. His chubby fingers ran down her leg towards the money clip, he purposely took his time. Selina felt bile form in the back of her throat as he clumsily pawed at her.

He ripped the clip off and begun counting the money “That’s your rent….That’s my commission” he said as he tucked the notes away into the pocket of his damp shirt “So I’m guessing if you want to be eating tonight you oughta go give that guy the full works”

She hated him. There was nothing more she’d rather do then choke him to death by shoving the money she earned down his fat throat. But she had no back up plan, there was nowhere else to go and so her only option was to follow his command.

“Fine” she sighed “Who is it?”

The fat man jerked a thick finger in the direction of the booths. It pointed at the strange guy who avoided looking at her during the show. Perhaps that was why he chose to look away, he knew he would be getting a private show all to himself and didn’t want to over excite himself before the main event.

She walked towards the booth ignoring the cries of some other patrons requesting she marry them. She reached the booth with the strange guy and introduced herself.

“Hey honey I hear you are after the full works” she said.

The guy did not respond nor did he attempt to make any eye contact but Selina persisted, her dinner depended on it.

“Awww don’t be shy sweetie let me help you relax a little” she said whilst straddling him. She hovered just above his groin as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Pppplease stop” he whimpered.

“Sweetie relax” said Selina as she began to caress her breasts “You like?”

“No. No I don’t. Please stop.” came the unexpected response.

Selina persisted no-one had resisted her full works lap dance and this weird guy was not going to be the first “What’s your name, sugar?”

“Kevin and you really need to get off me and go” came the rather blunt response.

Selina shot a look towards the stage and saw the fat man peering out. She was expected to give this well paying patron a show and so she must. Otherwise she would not be indulging on Den’s Special Chicken Nuggets at the Diner across from the club.

She begun to grind a little harder. Normally such a move would be for a little later, if at all, but it seemed in everyone’s best interests if she got this over quickly.

“Please you have to stop!” pleaded the guy, becoming more and more agitated.

Feeling uncomfortable about the situation Selina leant in and asked “Why? Why do you want me to stop?”

During her illustrious career at the club Selina had been told many things by patrons. These ranged from how much they love their wife to apologies for the unexpected ejaculation. In all her years she thought she had seen and heard everything. Every comment and utterance of arousal made her more and more impervious to being shocked.

“If you do not stop then the Gates of Hell will open and we will all die”

Yep. She’d never heard that one before.

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