Author Note: This is my first ever finished Fanfiction written work.

Iv written stories before but nothing Fanfiction or movie/show spin off.

I'm really excited for you all to read this. Hope you like it.

There is a lot of explicit behavior and langue in this story.

Definitely rated MA 18+ and over readers.

I'm going to post 3 chapters today then ill post once a week, hopefully. lol.

Thanks for Reading. Please like and follow the story. ;-)

Tempting The Alpha.

CHAPTER 1

Bella p.o.v

My heart is pounding in my ears. I wonder if everyone around me can actually hear it. Can they tell how much I hate being here, how much I hate them and hate doing this.

Either way, the disgust is always settling in my stomach and I can hardly stand myself. I sit in front of the lighted mirrored vanity, they line both sides of the room and all us girls get our own assigned one. Clothes cover the chairs, couch and lockers stationed behind me. I hang my head in my hands, close my eyes and sigh. Focusing as much as I can on pushing my emotions as far back as I can, trying to close myself off.

Let's get something clear right now. I hate this. No, hate isn't a strong enough word for what I do. But for how tired I am of this life and how much I hate it, I can't help but laugh at it. If you'd told me a little over a year ago, that id be here id of thought you a complete crazy fucker. Needing locked in a padded room and maybe given a few treatments of electroshock therapy.

A year ago, I was just a normal high school student in her senior year, working on getting a scholarship to the University of Washington, I had found out I was really good at basketball.

I know go figure. Clumsy, always falling, always hurting herself Isabella Swan good at any sorta sport was also mind boggling but it's true. I also found out I really liked to run and do dance. What can I say, once I hit 16 my clumsy phase went out the door.

I was also working on planning my 18th birthday party and a trip to Europe. Life was pretty dang perfect.

Obviously it wasn't the cookie cutter type of perfect but it was pretty damn awesome. I had my parents and little brother Lucas. My family had a comfortable lifestyle and my parents were so loving and supportive.

But life has a way of destroying all good things, you know the saying; all good things must come to an end? Well its fucking true, or maybe I just have the shitteist luck in human history.

When everything was going perfect, life forces me to take the left court. I ran with the punches. I had come home one day after school to find my dads deputies, a social worker and our sweet neighbor, the old lady that looked after Lucas while mom, dad and I were at work and school. My parents had died in a car crash, I was turning 18 in three weeks. The social worker helped me be able to keep Luke.

Dad and mom had left me the house but with how the economy is there wasn't much left after paying off the mortgage so I wouldn't need to worry about a monthly payment. I found a job. Like I said, I hate myself. Five nights a week I work from 9pm-4am. No longer was I JUST a Highschooler. I was a Highschooler responsible for a little 4 year old, a house, and bills. So even though this job is slowly ripping away my soul, fracture by every small fracture, my soul disappears. But I need the money.

I had to grow up.

I faced a battle and won it. But the war was not over. I wasn't going to give up. So many people have told me to give up Lucas. To just let a nice loving family take care of him and adopt him, but I couldn't do that. He was all my family I had left and he needed me more than anyone else. i was the only thing that connected him to his mother and father. I wasn't going to abandon him just because it would make things a little easier for me. I knew, deep down in my bones, that I had made the right decision to raise and take care of him. With the statistic on foster families, abuse, molestation and rape, I also wasn't going to let some sick bastard defile my little brother or lay a finger on him.

I'll say this though. My job I've got, paid good, and had great hours for taking care of kids. I got to put LuLu to bed and wake him up with breakfast and cuddles every single day. I was also thankful for my best friend Angela. She had moved in with us to look after Lucas while I slept during the days i worked and was there in case anything happened while I was working through the night. even though Lucas would be sleeping while I worked, I just wouldn't take that chance. what if he woke up sick with a life threatening fever, someone could break in, or a fire could start or fuck if he just needed some cuddles and loves because he had a bad nightmare and wanted his mom but couldn't have her. Ang was like a auntie to him and he loved her a great deal.

I sigh, cutting off my daydreaming and getting back to working on my makeup. I shake my long dark burgundy hair out. Its natural curl bouncing around my shoulders and waist. I ran some moose through it to stop any frizzing and help define my curl. Wiping my hands off on the towel laying next to me I moved onto greasing myself up with the Glittery Love Spell body butter I kept at my station. It seemed to be a hit with the crowd, over all the other girls perfumes or lotions, mine was the most unique, all the other girls had either Vanilla, or cocoa butter or some other tooth achingly sweet smelling thing. It was a bonus for me too, that I had a nice toned figure with strong springy legs even though i was only 5'6 and a bouncy butt and tits. I was the youngest dancer here and, not to brag but I got the most attention from the guys. I guess being the new young thing was good. Lets see how long the novelty lasts, Iv been here for almost a year now and am still going strong with the crowd.

Tonight was story book theme. I was playing a sexy little red riding hood. I made my makeup look like one side of my neck was bitten by a wolf, hair kinda a sexy mess. My skimpy pleated skirt barely covered my ass, showing off my bright red lacy boy-shorts and my white button down shirt only tied in a loose knot to show off my flat belly and have my cleavage spilled out. The white shirt was so sheer and I had made little slashes over the tits to look like a wolf got at me, my bright red lace push up bra was extremely visible. I nixed the red hood, obviously choosing to have the red panties and bra set as the hood. I wore thigh high white stockings with little red bows on the front of the thigh with a black line going down the backs, they too had fake claw marks running over my thighs and calves and on my feet were a pair of the most expensive heels iv ever owned, a black pair of Christian Louboutins, the signature red sole working with my themed outfit. I also have a little basket with a wolf plushie id use when walking around the floor after my dance.

I had thought about asking one of the other girls to partner up with me to play my wolf, Jessica had offered. The girl was trying hard to get a dance with me. she'd constantly hint at wanting to (share) the Poll. When we would be at the gym practicing she'd try all the time to make up a routine together, or would start dancing up close next to me "Teasing" me she'd giggle. And over the past few months shes even asked me out for breakfast multiple times. But I didn't want to split the cash and nor was I really into her that way. Don't get me wrong she was gorgeous and all; big tits, legs that went on for days, long straight blond hair, heart shaped face with beautiful chocolate hazel eyes and full plump lips. But she was dumb as a box of dicks and that was a turn off to me. Not to mention I don't date in the workplace. number one rule of mine.

Puffing out a quick breath I stand, smoothing the back of my skirt down out of habit, even though there wasn't much to brush down. I make one last check over my body. Overall I looked really good, sexy even, and way more classy than the others girls outfits. All of theirs were made of really cheap stuff, the kind you get at party city or a (way over priced) halloween store or those gotty sleevy versions of Disney princess costumes. I stare at myself in the mirror, give my reflection a stern nod then swivle on my heels and strut out the door, down the hall and make my way up the stairs to the open door for the stage. I take deep breaths trying to push back my emotions and free my mind so to bring up 'Zs' personality. She was my alter ego. Sexy, seductive, a bit of a masochist, a complete tease 'Z'. She helped me deal with what I do.

She helped me get through this with some small amount of dignity. 'Z' isn't afraid to sway her hips, shake her ass, spread her legs, or bend over in front of men to press her Hoo-Haa and ass into their faces in hopes of a nice bill slipped into the string she wore.

The announcer's booming voice starts 'Z's' introduction to the stage and then the music begins. The song (Witches choreography-Paint It Black by Ciara strip dance **Bells dance is what the dancers do in this music video.**) I let the beginning of the song sink in and feel 'Z' instantly take over. The lights are low as she sways my hips to the beat, strutting up until we reach the pole in the middle on the stage. I make a run the last few steps and jumped to the top of the poll.

Allowing my legs to wrap around the cold sticky metal, then let my hands go, swaying my arms around seductively letting go of the bar to slowly hang upside down, spinning around and run my hands up my body to ruffle through my long hair. I landed softly to the floor on my back with my legs in the air, hair splayed out around me. 'Z' spreads my legs so the poll is in between them and dose a few suggestive hip pumps into it, then grabs the poll and pulls myself up only to drop it like its hot and flip my hair back. cat walking out My eyes scanning the outline of all the men around the stage. I spine and dive down to the floor on my knees I crawl over at the beat of the song to the end of the outstretched stage doing a quick low front dip then snap my hips as I stand and twirl. Lust was evident in their eyes and body language. a few of them were grabbing their crotches or were actually pumping themselves inside their pants. A small shudder runs through me.

Disgusting.

Have I already mentioned I hate this, I hate the part of seeing these Nasties, I remind myself to focus, needing to finish the rest of my routine. The cigerette and cigar smoke hovers in the room like a fog, leaving only the outline of the men surrounding the stage. I roll my neck, flinging my hair up over my head in a seductive move that results in a few more whistles as I continue dancing. I slowly start to untie my shirt, sashaying my whips, I through my shirt to the back of the stage. Revealing my red lace push up bra to the audience. Another few sways of my hips to the beat of the song, another choreographed move hear and there, and my bra is thrown back towards the stage door. Iv done this so many times that even though I hate every second of those disgusting men, there is no self consciousness to overcloud my moves. no hesitation, no miss-stepping or jittery-ness. Practice and routine make my body look smooth and gliding where I wanted it too. Completely in control over my arms, legs, hips and chest. I love Dancing, that's the only thing I truly liked about being on the stage. you got to make up a routine and as long as there was erotic moves and clothing coming off, we could do anything we wanted. The music continues and I shed the rest of my clothes off piece by piece. As the song comes to an end I shimmy down the poll, crawl a few feet, spin and then lay on my back and raise my legs up high in the air, my hands helping me push my pelvis up so most of my weight is on my shoulders so I can do a spread eagle move high and wide in the air, this move gives everyone a good view of my barely covered pussy then I flip backwards to stand, doing a few belly dancer moves. Then all of a sudden, Something that sounded like a growl lets out right when the song ends. I stumble back a step, startling but recover quickly, I do one last quick round on the stage collecting my money and picking up my costume pieces. Then head off backstage.