Don't Worry, Shakespeare

[chapter one]
“Diamond Dogs”


The Moulin Rouge. It is a breeding ground for the power hungry men of Paris. A place where you go to forget everything and everyone that ties you to the real world. A nightclub. The dance hall of the bordello. It was a kingdom of nighttime pleasures ruled over by Harold Zidler. As creatures of the underworld, we lived to be the playthings of the rich and powerful. I had no choice but to sell my love to men.

When I first set foot in the Moulin Rouge, I was a starving and empty child of 12. Harold had plucked me up off the streets. He gave me a place to keep warm. I didn’t know any better. All I ever knew before the bordello was everything worse than a warm bed and food in my stomach.

“You have a pretty face.” He had told me all those years ago. “Lovely eyes.” Harold smiled down at me, the scrawny little girl standing before him. “I think I have a place for you.”

He held me by the hand and walked me across the soggy street. The puddles on the ground reflected the ominous gray sky above, and occasionally my dirty face. Men smiled at me and women scoffed as we walked through the great red doors. The muddy courtyard was filled with booths and small stages concealed by large white sheets. I remember marveling at the grand jeweled elephant that stood off to the side. Harold never pointed anything out to explain what they were. He simply led me through the mud and up to another set of doors. We stopped right in front of it.

“Do you want a place to stay?” He asked me, leaning over to look in my green eyes. All I could do was nod my head. Harold smiled a wide toothy grin. “Well, I’ll expect you to do some work for me. Can you handle that?”

I nodded again. He smiled some more, looking me up and down.

“Yes, I definitely have a place for you.”

He opened the doors that seemed so giant at the time. A majestic hall dimly lit lay just behind the swinging pieces of wood. The wooden plank floor reflected the faint flickers of flame in the gas lamps lining the walls. Women were lounging around, waiting for the evening to start. They seemed to twinkle beneath the iridescence of the room. No. The hall.

“This place must be magic!” I remember thinking to myself. The girls seemed so beautiful and distant. Like sirens sitting on the rocks with beads of water glistening off their bodies. They seemed like you could reach out and touch them, knowing that you wouldn’t catch a thing between your fingers. Harold and I slowly walked inside. My bare feet lightly padded on the floor, sharply contrasted by the percussion of Zidler’s.
The women mostly smiled at me, but some just kept smoking their cigarettes and drinking their spirits. Harold pulled me through the dance hall without introducing me to any of the women. We swerved around a corner and through an open door.

“The kitchen.”

There was a very old man standing in the corner with a cup of coffee in his hand. His salt and pepper gray hair was tightly pulled back into a ponytail, and whiskers clung to his jaw and neck. He had hard features, but soft eyes. They were a pale almost gray blue. He looked at me with what I now realize was pity, but at the time I just thought it was strange. I smiled at him.

“Cute girl, Zidler.” The man said gruffly, turning back to his cup of coffee. The kitchen was filled with a sort of smoky smell. Suddenly, in ran a boy of about 16. The old man straightened up and walked over to the boy. His body was rigid with emotion.

“Campbell!” The man shouted. “Where have you been?!”

The boy came to a screeching halt. His eyes were fixed on me.

“I…uh…” the boy couldn’t seem to find words. Forcing his eyes to pull away from mine, the boy slowly began to talk again. “I was sleeping.” He sheepishly grinned.

“Liar.” The old man muttered under his breath. He turned to Zidler. “It’s not right keeping a boy like him in a place like this.” He growled. The man twisted, now paying avid attention to a steaming pot on the stove.

“Campbell, you’d better get to work.” Harold whispered to the boy. Campbell hesitantly nodded and began to wash his hands.

“Andre?” Harold asked. The old man grudgingly spun around to face his boss. “Do you have anything to fill this poor child’s stomach?”

Andre, the cook, turned and pulled a bowl out of the sink. He ladled some of the hot stew from the stove into the bowl. The steaming bowl plunked down before me. Campbell snatched up a spoon and a bread crust. He walked over and handed them to me. I smiled. The thick substance filled my insides as I hungrily devoured the meal. My bowl was licked clean in a matter of minutes.

“Come with me, now.” Harold said. He held out his hand. I looked from the man’s hand up to his face, deciding if I really should go with him. If I had known then what I know now, I might have refused his offer. I placed my small hand in his and stood up.

“You aren’t going to introduce us to your new girl?” Andre snarled.

“I would if I knew her name.” Harold looked down at me.

“Shantay.” I beamed around the room. “My name is Shantay.”

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, miss Shantay.” Harold grinned.

“As is mine.” Andre admitted. The boy they called Campbell was silent, but I could sense he was pleased to meet me as well.

We walked out onto the dance floor. I watched over my shoulder as Campbell fixed his eyes on us from behind the doorway. Andre smacked him upside the head, forcing the boy to turn away and get back to his work. I looked where Harold was leading me.

“Who’s this little beast?” Said a smarmy woman with a thick cockney accent.

“This is Shantay.” Harold gripped my shoulder. “She’s going to be a new addition.” He smiled down at me. “Do you want to be just like them?” He asked me quietly. I eagerly nodded. They were so beautiful. So distant. I was a mere few feet away from them, but they were still so far away. Like a mirage.

“Harold,” a woman with bright red leggings began to speak, “she’s too young! She’ll never survive in a place like this! Give the girl a childhood, for God’s sake…” She took a long drag on her cigarette.

“Maybe so, but we do get requests for this sort of thing. We’ll put her with the easy orders and she’ll be fine, Fleur!” He reassured them. “Won’t you, baby?” Harold looked down into my eyes. I nodded once more, having no idea what the girls actually did.

“This isn’t right…” The woman said again. She got up and walked off the dance floor into some unknown corridor.

“Right, so who wants to check her out for me? You all know how!” Harold leaned in close. “You’ve done this before…” he murmured. A woman hesitantly got up. She looked at me with thirsty eyes.

“I’ll do it, love.” She spoke with a slight Scottish air. Offering me her lace-covered hand, she led me off the floor. We weaved around corners and up several sets of stairs. She pushed open the final door. I watched her tall figure walk inside. She was clad in black and red. A laced up corset pushed her breasts up and out. I was afraid that it would pop open at any second. Her long flowing skirt had a slit that went straight up to the corset, showing off the bloomers she wore beneath. From under the slit, a long slender leg extruded completely covered in fishnet and ended in a tiny boot.

“Come on in, darling.” She cooed. I followed her in. The room was musty with the scent of sweat and pleasure. A bed lay in one corner, a table in the other. Candles lined the walls. Scarves and ribbons hung from a rack behind the table, pearl and beaded necklaces dangled right beside them.

“Close the door.” She commanded. I timidly shut it, afraid of what I would have to do to stay here. “My name is of no consequence. You must do whatever I say. In this room, I am known solely as master. Got that, chickpea?”

I nodded.

“Undress. Don’t say a word. You don’t speak until I say you speak.” She yelled, taking a seat on the bed. I pulled at the ribbons on my raggedy corset. When it flopped to the floor, I pulled the dress up over my head. She smirked, standing up and walking over to my naked shivering form. The woman rubbed her hands from my shoulders down to my belly button. She looked up into my eyes.

“Don’t you dare speak, or I’ll show you something you’ll never want to experience again.”

Her cool fingers moved up to my nipples. They stood erect in the cold air, small pink mounds jutting out defiantly from my body. She flicked at one, teasing it. Shivers ran up and down my spine as she placed kisses up from my belly button to my breast. I just stood there, not entirely sure what she was doing. Her mouth latched on to my tit. She lapped at it with her tongue, sucking harder and harder. It was different. I didn’t know what was surging through my body. I felt everything between my legs start to ache. Her hand moved to play with the other nipple, keeping her mouth attached to my body. She began to nibble. Her hand rubbed down my body to my untouched slit. She felt around, rubbing her finger along my lips. Her mouth pulled away from my upper body. She brought the fingers that were massaging up to my face. It was covered something sticky and white.

“You’ll be seeing a lot more of this if you stay, you little slut.” She harshly spat. I don’t know how long she kept me in that room, but it suddenly hit me that maybe I didn’t want to stay at the Moulin Rouge. Alas, I had no other choice. When the woman led me back to the dance floor, she flopped me in front of Harold.

“She needs some work, but she is by far the prettiest little whelp you’ve ever plucked up, Harold.”

Zidler smiled down at me. “Who is willing to teach her?”

Silence clung to the room. The air was stiff. “I will.” A voice finally said. I looked to where the tone had come from and found the woman in red leggings. She looked at me with sad eyes. “I’ll teach her everything I know.”

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“Calm down, Shantay!” Campbell laughed at me from across my room. I had done my hair in at least twelve different styles since I invited Cam in for advice. The Moulin Rouge had served as my home for the past three years. Those years were nothing but learning how to deliver the most pleasure to a man. I had learned how to dance, how to lace up a corset, what would make a man’s mouth water, everything a Diamond Dog knew. Tonight I was going to finally be one of those beautiful distant women. My first time on the stage. I was so nervous that I kept changing what I wanted to look like over and over again. Campbell was growing sick of it.

“Shantay!” He said again, as I let down my hair in final frustration. I hung my head low, leaning against my vanity desk. The warm touch of Campbell’s rough hands lightly gripped my hips from behind. He snaked them up my corset coming to a rest just beneath my breasts. My torso was gently pulled back to lean against his warm chest, as he murmured sweet assurance in my ear.

“You will do fine tonight! And even if you feel like you let Harold down, you always know where to find me.”

His chest rumbled soothingly pressed up against my back. I let out a slow breath, bringing a hand up to his stubbled cheek.

“Good to know.” I grinned. Campbell gradually released his hands only to cup my bare shoulders in them. He slowly rubbed his thumbs in circles, working out my tension. Campbell slowly began to place sweet little kisses from my neck on down to my naked shoulder blade when a voice resonated from the hall.

“Campbell!” Andre bellowed. The boy let out an annoyed breath. When no answer came, Andre called again. “Cam, you good for nothing pimp, I need you!”

“Coming!” Campbell chimed sweetly. “Leave it down tonight.” He added in my ear, kissing the top of my head. Cam’s footsteps walked to the door, slunk through, and descended down the hall accompanied by the angered ramblings of the cook.

I looked into my mirror reflecting the disheveled image of a girl about to become a woman. At first, the face in the mirror startled me. There was a sexual sort of smile on my lips, stained cherry red for the show. My eyes had a tempting twinkle about them, almost as if I knew any man who had a look at me would want to screw my brains out. This seductive face peered out from behind my long locks of auburn hair strewn about in a sexy mess. Campbell was right; hair down was the best way to go. Harold had given me a costume just for tonight, just for my grand debut. I wore vertically striped stockings that ran up and down my entire leg, ending in a sexy little boot. My black corset was adorned with crimson roses ascending from the long bustle stretched out on the floor. The bustle trailed down low with a split running straight up my thigh. I ruffled my hair once more in the mirror and prepared to walk out of my room.

My boots clicked down the hall, reminding me of the day I walked in with Zidler. As I descended down the stairs, I heard the scurry of the preparations cease. It was as if every eye in the hall was watching me walk down the spiral staircase into the great hall. I stopped halfway down, looking out. All the men with their brooms and decorations had stopped abruptly. I saw the gleaming whites of every man’s upturned eye. It gave me a little more encouragement for the rest of the night.

“Back to work!” Zidler’s voice echoed through the large dance hall. “Darling!” I assumed he was addressing me. When he came waddling across the hard floor, I continued my steps down the spiral staircase. Once my feet hit the hardwood, I struck a pose with a hand on my hip and the other behind my head. “Chickpea, you will be irresistible tonight!”

“She needs a name.” A familiar voice shouted from across the hall. It was, Gigi, the woman who had taught me everything I knew. “Something to set her apart from her old life.”

“What life?” I muttered. No one had heard me.

“Yes!” Harold clapped his hands together. “A name! Now, what to call you? It has to be sexy but sweet…”

“Angevin.” Gigi finished Harold’s thought. “It means Angel of Wine; perfect for a beauty such as Shantay.” She smoothly suggested.

“Perfect!” Zidler exclaimed. “Angevin.” He drew out the name slowly, feeling how it rolled about on his tongue. Satisfied, he hooked an arm around me and began to talk in my ear. “You are to be known as Angevin from now on. Forget your real name. Forget who you really are. It is best to forget everything.”

At that moment, Campbell stuck his head out of the kitchen loaded up to the chin with dirty pots and pans. He grinned at me before Andre hit him over the head. There was a clangor of metal as the mountain of dishes came raining to the ground.

“It is best to forget anything.” Harold’s last comment was still ringing in my ears. Could I forget about Cam? Should I? After all, he was 19 now. A legal adult! He could have left the Moulin Rouge at anytime during the past year, but he stayed because of me. Harold couldn’t possibly mean to forget him. Or is that exactly what he meant?

Harold steered me to the stage. He began to explain how the opening act was going to go and when I would make an appearance. Everything went in one ear and out the other. Campbell and I had gotten so close. It never even occurred to me I would probably have to kiss our relationship goodbye. My mind flashed back to all the times during the summer he had taken me out for picnics. Kissing on the grass, swimming in the river, nights spent together under the stars. It had never even clicked in my mind that maybe Cam would have a problem with me becoming a sex toy. How could I have been so stupid? Did I really think at one time that it would be just fine living that way forever?

“Did you catch that?” Harold asked me once he had stopped talking. I gave a fake nod. We had rehearsed it hundreds of times already. I knew everything. The only part I didn’t know is how the night would go after I had finished dancing. I wondered how I would feel when a man would drag me off by the hand to go fuck me in some distant corner of the Moulin Rouge. My eyes looked to the kitchen once more where I saw Campbell hurriedly mixing something in a bowl.

Could I?