A waitress at the Black Cat Men's Club

"Waitress," the man started rhyming off the description. "Uniform is skirt, no longer than mid-thigh, top, must expose cleavage. Yours will do for today. Hours are whatever we tell you. House takes a cut of your tips. You in?"

Bria knew that she needed at a job, at least until she was discovered and became a sexy international superstar. Shaking it up as a waitress seemed like an easy way to make money. This club was in the neighbourhood and she'd have ready access to booze, great since she was a hair short of 21 and the guy didn't seem to care about age. She quickly nodded.

The man stood up. He was burly and vaguely Hispanic, dressed like a biker with a full black beard.

"Welcome on board," he said, and then surprised Bria by yanking off her purse when she reached out to shake his hand. "This stays in my office. I'm Mr. Rodriguez. Bring the tips to me at the end of the day to get it back."

"I'm Bria," she answered , a bit sheepish, and let her hand drop.

"I don't care if you're Slutty Puta McJuggs," he said as he grabbed her ass and pushed her into the club. "Go sell some beer and don't come back until there's some serious cash in your tits."

Bria's mouth opened as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she realized what kind of club it was.