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Craved (Twisted Book 2) Page 13


  29

  ‘Touch me one more time and I’ll smash this bottle over your head,’ I hiss, feeling I am about to lose it for real.

  Natalia and I are doing a double table dance for a bachelor party. Mostly, the guys are decent, except for one. He’s drunk as a skunk and has decided that he can do whatever he wishes because the world belongs to him.

  In other words, a total dick.

  He keeps ignoring my warnings and leans over the table, reaching with his greedy palms, trying to touch my ass or boobs. When I get angrier, Natalia grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. Usually when a client gets out of control, like this one, the dancer stops her regular routine (rolling over on the table, assuming all sorts of positions, keeping the main attractions like pussies, asses and boobs relatively close to the spectators) and starts the ‘safe routine’, by simply dancing on her feet, making sure she can respond quickly to any attempt to touch her.

  ‘What’s wrong? Ignore the idiot. You don’t want to receive a fine. If he doesn’t get it, you get away from him,’ Natalia whispers, ‘even if it means spoiling the dance for the rest of the clients.’

  As I am about to say, ‘You’re right, I will try my best,’ I feel a hand on my inner thigh, brushing my pussy.

  Seriously?

  I turn to see this dick standing in front of his friends, boasting about his ‘heroic’ move with a stupid grin. I swing and slap him sharply in the face. He looks at me, stunned. He turns, goes back to his seat and quietly drops into it.

  The rest of the guys, after getting over the light shock, start clapping and laughing, showing the thumbs up for me, and tapping the dick on the shoulder. Natalia and I resume our dance.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Natalia asks without taking her eyes off the road as we drive home after work.

  ‘Yes, why?’ I try to hide the anger that presses my chest.

  ‘Why? You almost killed the guy! What’s happening with you?’

  ‘He touched my pussy, Nata. It was a reflex! Self-defense, okay?’ I fly off the handle, then look away, even angrier for not being able to restrain myself and stay calm.

  ‘There is no doubt he is a prick.’ Natalia ignores my tone and keeps hers balmy. ‘But you could get a fine. Five grand! You know he isn’t worth it. Luckily no one found out, and his friends found it rather entertaining.’

  ‘I know, I just lost it.’

  ‘That’s why I am asking you. What’s going on? What’s on your mind?’

  I sigh, wondering how to explain it. ‘You know, no matter how hard I try...’ I sigh again, and start over. ‘I do everything you taught me, but I can’t change the fact that I work in a strip club where the clients pay thousands to touch boobs. Boobs, Nata!’

  ‘I get it. But you must stop worrying. You are making huge progress already. All you need is a bit more confidence. Most of those clients don’t know what they want, or what’s good for them. They say they like blondes with big boobs – next thing I see, they’re splashing out on a flat-chested brunette, with their delirious eyes!’

  ‘It’s the boobie dance. The whole thing is about them paying money to touch tits, not to iron my already flat chest! Hey, would you like to pay a grand to touch my boobs – only, oops! I don’t have any. Yeah?’ I yell, and then fall silent. I feel guilty. It’s not Natalia’s fault anyway; she is only trying to help.

  ‘Well… either you sell what you’ve got by convincing them that your hard nipples on your flat but fit and gorgeous chest are the best thing they’ll ever spend a grand on, or you find another way to deal with it.’ She stops the car. I hadn’t even noticed that we are at our gates already. Natalia parks. As we walk into the room, she switches the lights on and heads straight to her night table. She pulls a magazine out of the drawer, turns a few pages and gives it to me. ‘Here.’

  I look down at the advert for a plastic surgery clinic, at a smiling blond girl in a beautiful red dress.

  ‘You want tits? Buy them! You are making good money now. I’ll cover you with father’s bills for a week or two. We’ll come up with something.’

  I glance at Natalia, then back at the advert, reading the sign next to the blonde’s big breasts: ‘Change the way you look – change your life!’

  30

  I can’t sleep all night. I’m so excited.

  How come I never thought about it myself?

  As soon as the clock shows eight, I dial the number in the magazine. No one picks up. I try again at nine. The energetic voice tells me that the first available consultation is not until next week. Then she hesitates and announces that there’s been a cancelation and I could come today. I go back to bed, thinking to try for a few more hours’ sleep. Half an hour later, dropping the idea, I dress and sit with my laptop, waiting for Natalia to wake up.

  ‘I called the clinic already.’ I jump off the bed as soon as I notice Natalia opening her eyes. I sit down on the edge of her bed, making sure she doesn’t go back to sleep. ‘They have a client who canceled today. They agreed to give me the appointment! They’ll be waiting for us in one hour! We must leave now! Will you drive me, please?’

  Natalia rolls onto her back and blinks at the ceiling. ‘Good morning to you too, Julia.’ She smiles. ‘Can I have a cup of coffee first?’

  ‘You get dressed. I will make you one to go!’ I rush out of the room.

  The waiting area has been done exquisitely. Grey and silver couches and chairs; unusually designed coffee tables stuffed with fashion magazines; sculptures on the stands and windowsills, featuring oddly shaped human figures. One of them is particularly weird – the shape of a fat woman made of wire, posing like a ballerina.

  Aside from Natalia and me, only one other woman is waiting. She is wearing huge sunglasses, although the shutters on the windows are half down, making the room pleasantly dim.

  Natalia nudges me with her elbow, and nods towards the woman, ‘She’s probably had a facelift. Get ready, Jul. This is what’s waiting for us in the future.’

  The doctor walks up to us and, after a short introduction, asks us to follow him.

  ‘Tell me, Julia, what can I do for you?’ he announces, as he sits down in his high-back leather chair.

  ‘I would like to enlarge my breasts,’ I say, trying to ignore the racing heartbeat that hammers in my ears.

  ‘Take off your top and let’s look at you.’ He gets up and shows me to the examination table that is hidden at the back of the room behind a stylish folding screen.

  After a quick examination, he opens a cupboard in the corner of the room and takes out a box.

  ‘You are a diminutive woman. I suggest we don’t do more than 250 cc, medium profile.’ He opens the box, puts it next to me, and pulls out a soft, round bag. ‘These are testing pads. Each has a printed size on it. Put them inside your bra, try some different sizes. It will give you an idea of what to expect.’

  I hook my bra back on and push in the one he hands me. While I’m busy with the second one, Natalia walks up to the box and picks up the bigger pad.

  ‘Doctor, are you sure she couldn’t go bigger if she wanted to?’ Natalia frowns, trying to read the size on the pad she’s picked. ‘Try this one. It’s a 350.’ She pulls the pad out of one of the cups of my bra and pushes the new one in.

  The doctor glances at Natalia. He’s definitely amused. ‘Initially I thought to make an incision around the nipple. If Julia chooses to go bigger than 250, I’ll have to cut under her breasts. That aside, I always encourage my clients to strive for a more natural look.’

  ‘We are strippers, doctor,’ Natalia doesn’t falter. ‘Where we work, no one cares about natural, as long as the clients have something to put their hands on.’

  I look at myself in the mirror, comparing the two cups. I definitely prefer the 350’s look.

  ‘I like bigger,’ I say, getting closer to the mirror and studying myself. I lift my eyes and meet Natalia's smiling face in the mirror. She nods.

  ‘Okay, Julia, I have no problems with
that.’ The doctor walks back to his chair. I take out the pads, put my T-shirt back on, and join him back at his desk.

  ‘The surgery costs R30 000, including 24 hours’ supervised recovery in our clinic’s hotel after the procedure. As soon as you’ve paid the full amount, we set the surgery date, usually no sooner than three weeks from the date of payment.’

  ‘I have R15 000 I can pay today,’ I say, and hear my voice trembling. ‘Could we please book my surgery today, and I will pay the balance in the next two weeks? Please, doctor, I would like to have the surgery as soon as possible.’ I give him my puppy-dog look. Realizing he is not convinced, I quickly exclaim, ‘If I don't pay you the second half in time, you can cancel the surgery and keep the money I’ve already paid.’

  He shakes his head.

  ‘I am sorry, but I have these rules for a reason. I can’t make exceptions. I’m afraid you’ll have to pay the whole amount, then we’ll gladly book you in.’ He gives us a smile of regret and gets up, indicating that the conversation is over.

  ‘I understand.’ I also get up. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I have the money.’

  But right now, I’m going to get out of this office and cry. I will cry for three days – it’s so disappointing.

  Natalia catches my hand. ‘Hold on a minute.’ She turns to the doctor, gently waving her hand for him to return to his seat.

  ‘Doctor.’ She’s all cold and businesslike. ‘I admire your integrity. Running a clinic like this is a hard business for sure. But my sister is asking you to make an exception for her, not because she is an impatient person, but because her looks directly influence the amount of money she can earn.’ Natalia pauses, looks at me, and takes my hand. ‘Let me, please, explain how I see this situation from a business perspective, and who knows, maybe you will reconsider your decision.

  ‘You have nothing to lose, because my sister just agreed to give up her R15 000 if she can’t keep her end of the undertaking. In that case, it will be a matter of a few phone calls to find someone to agree to move their surgery sooner, taking Julia’s slot. The main reason you should reconsider, doctor, is that my sister is a great opportunity for you to advertise. Do you know how many girls work in the club? A hundred. At least half of them, I can assure you, will confirm that they are not completely happy with their looks. At least fifty well-earning potential clients will witness Julia's transformation in just a few weeks. They are going to want to know who is responsible for that. I have a feeling that a living example of your work will be a better advertisement than the dull blonde with the cheesy slogan in the magazine you are spending fortune on.’

  Oh wow!

  He looks at Natalia blankly then at me. He’s thinking.

  ‘Okay, Julia, you have one week. I’ll schedule you for surgery in,’ he checks his calendar, ‘in two and a half weeks. Please make sure you pay the money before the 23rd of this month, otherwise no deal.’

  ‘Yes! Thank you doctor.’

  As we walk out of the clinic I hug Natalia. ‘Thanks sister! Wow! You nailed him! No, you ripped him apart!’

  Natalia smiles, contented. ‘My pleasure, sister.’

  31

  I work like crazy for the next two weeks. I manage to pay the balance of the surgery in time, give some money to Natalia to send to Ukraine towards Dad’s medical bills, and even put away a few thousand for food and cigarettes during my recovery.

  We arrive at the clinic at six in the morning.

  Natalia hadn’t even slept, driving me here straight after work. I couldn’t sleep either, shivering in anticipation all night, still in disbelief about becoming a busty miss, and worrying about ‘what if something during the operation goes wrong…’

  The friendly nurse takes me to the ward. She asks me some questions about allergies and other medical conditions. Then doctor walks in. He confirms, one more time, my chosen size and reassures me, again, about the safety of the procedure.

  Finally, two nurses come to take me to the theatre. Natalia leaves for home with hugs and a promise to come back as soon as she’d had some sleep.

  It all happens quickly. The nurses take me to the operating theatre. The doctor, dressed in scrubs, marks my chest with a red felt-tip pen. The anesthesiologist does his job by sending me to the heavenly kingdom... I fly... fly... fly...

  I wake up drowsy but, to my surprise, without any pain. I lift my head a little, check out the two mounds on my chest, smile and drift back into a pleasant slumber.

  Oh yes! I am a busty miss now.

  After a few hours of check-ups and doctors’ visits, they wheel me to the small hotel for patients in recovery.

  It's a cozy room with a double bed, TV and en suite bathroom. I finally get to eat, swallowing a bowl of pea soup, and go back to sleep.

  Natalia arrives at about four.

  ‘Oh wow, look at you! I should have this surgery too! They look amazing!’ she exclaims as soon as she walks in, bringing a packet of sweets, my laptop and a few DVDs.

  ‘You don’t need it. Yours look better than any silicone.’ I let her kiss me and move up so she can sit on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Oh well, maybe one day after breastfeeding three kids or something,’ she winks. ‘How are you? How did it all go? Does it hurt?’

  ‘Unbelievably painless and comfy! I was just thinking about it. Remember the dentist visits at school? The torture we had to go through every year?’

  ‘Remember it?’ Natalia laughs, shaking her head. ‘Are you kidding? I still have nightmares about her drilling without painkillers! That woman was definitely some kind of secret Gestapo agent!’

  ‘She was a scary-looking woman, that’s for sure. Those glasses, with the huge +5 lenses? I’ve been thinking about it the whole day! How come they never used any painkillers, or whatever they used didn’t actually work. Why couldn’t they use proper medication, especially on the kids! It’s not like it was the 19th century. Everything was so vicious. The doctors with zero compassion. The obsolete equipment, that didn’t even have the cooling system. I will never forget the smoke that came out of the mouth, followed by the smell of burning bone and flesh. Did you know that the drills were produced in a tractor plant in Belarus? A tractor plant!’

  Natalia laughs. ‘Welcome to USSR: Что бы у нас болеть надо иметь лошадиное здоровье[3]. The realities of free healthcare. Even Novocain was scarce and was either not available or simply stolen by doctors to use on the patients who had the money or other goods for bribes.’

  ‘And I was unfortunate to have pulpitis in the seventh grade. That Gestapo bitch removed it without anesthetic. And she yelled at me because I was screaming and couldn’t bear the pain!’ I quiver. ‘Here, the doctor cuts my chest, pushes two balls inside me and sews me back up and I feel nothing! How’s that possible?’

  The nurse knocks on the door and walks in with the food tray.

  ‘Your dinner, Miss Lazar.’ She places the tray on the bed. ‘How do you feel?’

  “I feel fine, thank you.”

  ‘Let me know if you need anything.’ She smiles and leaves the room.

  I point at the tray and then at the door. ‘You see what I’m talking about?’

  Natalia laughs again. ‘What can I say? Загнивающий капитализм.[4]’ She leans over the tray and sniffs. ‘But it smells so nice.’

  32

  It’s a Sunday afternoon. Lena and Mark have invited us to Mark’s birthday party. Casual barbecue. Besides Natalia and me, Mark has invited a few of his buddies from work and two cousins with their spouses and kids.

  ‘So, how did it go?’ Lena asks, pointing towards my chest.

  We’d finished preparing the salads in the kitchen and had finally landed in the lounge: Natalia and me with sodas and Lena with a glass of wine that she hadn’t put down once since we’d arrived, and a vacant expression on her face.

  ‘It was quite an experience,’ I say, not sure if she wants to hear the detailed story or is just t
rying to be polite.

  She bows. Distracted, she gazes outside towards the braai area where all the men are gathered. They’re drinking beer and loudly discussing a rugby game over the barbecue fire.

  ‘How is your fertility testing going?’ Natalia asks.

  Lena looks at her with wandering eyes. ‘Oh that, no results yet.’ She gets up and leaves the room.

  Natalia and I exchange glances.

  ‘What’s up with her?’ My sister looks at me, puzzled.

  ‘You also noticed. She is weird today, maybe too much...’ I gesture to the liquor.

  ‘It seems more than just the booze. She is just... I don’t know. Even the pregnancy issue doesn’t seem to bother her any more. Something is going on and I want to find out what it is.’ Natalia gets up, ‘I’m going to the kitchen. Do you want another Coke?’

  ‘No thank you.’ I look out of the window, lost in my thoughts. The kids are playing and laughing in the pool, splashing around and wetting their moms. The joyful scene doesn’t reflect in my grimace. Tomorrow is my first day back at work after the surgery. How will it go? Will anything change for me with the new boobs? Or was my flat chest just an excuse for not doing my job successfully? Maybe I just don’t have it. Maybe my balls are not that big, and I am just a brat when it comes to real life, which I can’t face without drugs or booze.

  A while later, Lena walks back with a guilty smile. Boiling with anger, Natalia follows her.

  ‘Are you fucking out of your mind?’ Natalia hisses, grabs Lena’s arm, turns her around, and faces her.

  ‘Mind your own business,’ Lena spits back, slurring. ‘I don’t have to explain anything to you! It’s my house, and you can get out of here!’ She waves towards the door, shakes Natalia’s hand off hers and turns around to walk away.

  I jump off the couch to get between them, not understanding what has happened but realizing that they both are so mad that the situation is about to get out of control. But before I can reach them, Natalia swings and slaps Lena hard on the back of her head. Lena falls right into my arms. She hugs me and bitter tears cover her face.