Convince her to fuck the customers.

The bass of the music thumps through the floor as you pull Gemma into the dimly lit hallway of the strip club outside of the private rooms. She’s still flushed from your exertions, her lips glossy, her wet skin soaking through her flimsy dress.

“You’re wasting your talents on the stage,” you murmur, your thumb tracing circles on her wrist. “Those guys in the private rooms? They’d pay anything for a taste of you.”

Gemma bites her lip, her eyes flicking toward the closed doors lining the hall. “I don’t know…” she hesitates, but the way her thighs press together tells you she’s already thinking about it.

“They won’t touch you unless you want them to,” you assure her, although you're not so certain yourself. “You’re in control. And the bouncers here are great.”

“All you have to do,” you continue, your thumb brushing against her bare skin, “Is let them think they’re getting a taste. Tease them. Make them beg. And if they pay enough? Let them have a little more.”

"Fine." She swallows, her eyes flickering with a little doubt. "But I'm only going to do it if you're here too."

You smirk, already imagining the way she’ll look, spread out on that velvet couch, her tiny body taking some rich bastard’s cock while you watch from the shadows.

“Deal.”