Eloise danced to the music played by the live band. The stage lights blinded her to the crowds, but Eloise could hear their cheers as yet another article of clothing was tossed onto the stage. As the tiny strip of cloth covering her waist fell to the ground, she turned, letting everyone see the tiny sequined thong she wore beneath.

As she walked across the stage, her hips rolled seductively, teasing her audience as they whistled and cheered, begging her for more. Eloise turned to face the crowd once more, her hands still covering her breasts with the feather boa that was wrapped around her shoulders.

Her hands dipped further, exposing more of her breast to the cheering crowd. She let one end of the red feathers fall free, exposing her right breast, the nipple covered with red, heart-shaped pasties with delicate black fringe. The crowd went wild as one man reached up and snatched the free end of the boa and dragged it from her hands, exposing her chest.

The tourists in the crowd gasped at the move, but the regulars knew it was part of the act. Eloise’s hands flew to her breasts, covering them once more as her face wore a look of shock. The shock melted quickly into a grin, and an exaggerated wink let everyone know it was part of the show.

The crowd cheered louder as she continued to dance, her body bared save for the pasties, thong, and a masquerade mask she still wore. Eloise ended her routine with a role that brought her into the splits. As she threw her arms above her head with her chest pushed out towards the crowd, they erupted into the loudest cheers of the night.

Men and women threw roses onto the stage as the lights on stage began to dim, and those over the crowd grew brighter. Eloise scanned the crowd for him. Would he be there? He had been there every time she performed.

I see you! She thought as she saw the tall man, dressed in black, in the fifth row from the back. As always, his cleanly-shaven face bore the slightest smile as he politely clapped. He never howled or cheered, or wolf-whistled like some of the other patrons, but his eyes burned with a fire she had never seen in another man.

As Eloise left the stage, she bowed, her eyes holding those of the stranger until she finished her bow and returned to her dressing room. When she walked into the room, her boyfriend, Rodney, looked up from his cell phone. His eyes were bloodshot, and she knew that he was already drunk.

“You done stripping?” Rodney asked, his voice slurring.

“I told you, I’m not a stripper anymore. I’m a burlesque dancer.” Eloise replied, brushing past him and quickly closing the door to hopefully avoid anyone seeing the fight she knew was about to start.

“What’s the difference? You take your clothes off for money, don’t you?” Rodney sneered as he stared at her mostly naked body.

“I thought you had to work today,” Eloise said as she turned to her small dressing table and began to remove her pasties. She heard Rodney get unsteadily to his feet as he began to walk towards her. She could smell the vodka on his breath; he must have been drinking for at least three hours to smell that bad.

“And miss my girlfriend taking her clothes off for other men on Valentine’s Day? How could I possibly pass that up?” Rodney said, the anger rising in his voice as he stalked toward her.

“You got fired again, didn’t you, Rodney? That’s why you’re here!” Eloise looked in the mirror and saw Rodney looming behind her. She saw the anger in his eyes and knew what was coming. She glanced away, and for a moment saw the bouquet of a dozen red roses in the trash can in the far side of the room. They must have been from her secret admirer. He sent roses to her dressing room for every performance.

Rodney’s hand fisted in her hair and pulled her to her feet. Eloise stood as quickly as possible as he forced her to face him before slamming her backward into a wall. Eloise screamed out in pain as her naked back scraped against the rough, unpainted bricks.

Rodney’s hand clamped around her throat, cutting off her scream as his other hand pawed at her breasts. Eloise knew what was about to happen; it hadn’t been the first time. Rodney squeezed as he cruelly twisted her nipple. If she could have drawn enough breath, she would have screamed again, but the hand around her throat prevented it.

“You think you can just show off for other men and not let me have my piece? You were a stripper when we first met, and you’re no better now. You just make less money! I’m sick of paying all your fucking bills while you strip for other men!” Rodney screamed as he slammed her against the brick wall again, as spittle flew from his mouth! Eloise’s head bounced off the brick as Rodney’s hand moved from her breast to between her legs, tearing at her sequinned thong.

Eloise tried to pry his hand away from her throat as his fingers tried to force their way between her closed legs. His rage gave him strength, and his grip was iron. Desperate, she kicked a leg out, catching Rodney between the legs.

Furious, Rodney threw her across the room. She slammed against the lip of the trash can, barely catching herself before falling to the ground. In a rage, Rodney stormed across the room to grab her hair once more. She reached down into the trash can, groping for something to use as a weapon.

Eloise felt the hot sting of a thorn piercing her palm as her hands wrapped around a fistful of the discarded roses. When Rodney pulled at her hair, she spun, slashing the roses across his face, the thorns digging vicious furrows in his skin.

The blow stunned Rodney long enough for her to scream. Before she could run, Rodney grabbed her, and the last thing she saw was his fist crashing towards her face. Pain exploded in her face before she fell to the floor