by Liza James
She’s a fighter, that’s for fucking sure. I both love and hate it. So, I move faster, bringing her closer to the orgasm that’s coiling through her. I pull out and bend her over even farther, exposing her cunt to me as I bring my hand back and slap her there as well. She cries out, her knees buckling just slightly but I slip my arm around her waist and hold her as I do it again.
And again. And again. She’s writhing in my arms, her cunt bright red with the blood that’s risen to the surface of her skin. She’s so sensitive, so responsive and I can’t stop watching her reactions as I slip back inside of her.
“Say it and I’ll let you come,” I command while I watch her defiance begin to crumble.
“Jesus, Ruby. Seriously? Please,” she replies desperately as she grinds her ass back against my hand while I pull out of her. She’s seeking my fingers, my touch, her own release.
“You know the truth, Aura. I’m tired of you fucking ignoring it or shoving this away like it means nothing. It fucking doesn’t,” I slap her again and slip back inside, coasting over her clit until I pinch it harshly between my fingertips. She moans out and I feel her pussy tighten around my fingers again. She’s so fucking close, but I can’t let this go too far yet.
“Please, Ruby. Please let me come,” she cries out, her sweet submissive voice like a melody dancing through my blood.
“Fucking say it and I will,” I repeat myself, dragging her right to the very edge of her orgasm as I slow down my movements.
“Fuck, we aren’t friends. Okay? We aren’t fucking friends, now please. Let me come.” Finally, she submits, completely. Entirely. I almost come myself from hearing those words. Her admission to what this is. It isn’t a fucking friendship.
But I easily step back, pull out of her and put several feet of distance between us. She whips her head around, her eyes wide while her sweet ass and pussy are still on display for me. She’s red, welts swell against her flesh in my name and I fucking love it.
I slip my fingers into my mouth, tasting her cum, her arousal for me on my skin. Slowly, I drag my tongue across my own hand, swallowing every bit of her I can get while she watches with anger and frustration until I make my next move.
“Pull your pants up and get the fuck out of my club.”
“What? You fucking lied,” she snaps as she quickly turns around and shimmies her leggings back up and over her ass. She adjusts her bra and her sweater, until she’s appropriate and turns back towards me.
“Yeah, I did,” I say dismissively, stepping to the side and motioning towards the door so that she can leave.
“What the hell, Ruby?” Her lips flatten into a tight line and her entire body stiffens as she approaches me. She steps into my space, flattening her chest against my own while she lifts her chin.
Too late, I already took what I wanted. Your submission.
“How does this feel? This lie? Like I manipulated you into getting what I wanted? It fucking hurts, right?” I say, stepping forward and pushing her back. Step after step until she’s against the counter once again.
“Yes,” she says honestly. Quietly.
“Yet you still believed me, and it was that easy for me to lie to you and force you to give me what I wanted. Take this experience, my own fucking lie, and remember what this feels like. When you go home to your cheating boyfriend and best friend, listen to what they’re telling you. Lies are like water, they flow easily from your lips but are much harder to hold on to with your hands. Look at their actions, they may say one thing, but they do something entirely different.” I lift a hand and brush a stray lock of dark hair off her forehead, letting my lips dip even closer to hers. She’s my obsession, and even while I watch her anger, while I refuse her orgasm, I want to be the one by her side at the end of all this.
Her own hand lifts and rests over mine, she tilts her head and pushes her cheek into my palm. Feeling me, taking a small portion of this moment for herself while tears slip through her lashes and fall down her cheeks.
“Fuck your friendship, Vibe Girl. I’m not here to be friends with you.”
She opens her eyes and steps out from my hold, releasing my own hand as she watches me for a brief moment. Without saying a word, she turns on her heels and walks out the door, leaving me alone in the ruin of what I felt like I needed to teach her. Even if it was painful, hopefully she’ll pay attention. And she definitely won’t be back here come Monday.
After several minutes of being alone in that backroom, I finally step out and make my way back to the stage where auditions have continued. I took a while to really comprehend what Aura was telling me, about her cult, about the potential that someone knew about us.
How the hell would anyone know? We’ve never done anything in public, except the very first night we met while I was dancing. Could someone have been watching us then?
I’m scheduled to work tonight, so I know I’ll be here all day. Thankfully, I don’t have anyone waiting at home for me, no one that I have to update on my whereabouts. Some might say that’s lonely, but I don’t think so. I love my independence, my freedom and relationships only create strings and uneasy attachments. Whatever Aura decided she didn’t want from this was the right choice. I’m glad she walked out of the room without looking back.
Real fucking glad.
I walk across the stage, blatantly ignoring the two girls who are dancing with each other for their audition. Sal sits at the front, practically drooling over the two girls while he coaches them. Sometimes, he’s a good guy, really. But I’ll never forgive the fact that he lets Dom have his way with any of the dancers here. He should be the one protecting us, not pimping us out to the highest bidder.
Speaking of, I have to see Dom tonight. He was actually gone this past week for “work”, so I haven’t seen him since the night I met Aura. I have no doubts that he’s going to make me pay for the lack of company I’ve given him.
I should be afraid. But I’m not. I’m more concerned for whichever girl he pulls in with us in order to torment me. My plans haven’t changed though, one day I’ll kill him, and I’ll fucking enjoy it. That’s my only comfort on nights like tonight, and it’s the only comfort I can give the other girls when he’s finished with us.
“You get to ride her hard back there?” K’s voice chirps out in a smug tone from one of the chairs in front. My eyes dart to her, narrowing in annoyance before I step towards her and take the seat to her right. Her eyes shift back to the dancers on the stage while she evaluates them.
“You’d like to fucking know, wouldn’t you?”
She smirks without looking my way, just as she shifts her hand to rest against my thigh. She trails her fingers further up, tilting her head towards me as she leans in closer. “Did you get off, baby? Or do you want me to fuck you until you’re screaming my name?”
My lips lift up only slightly and I shift my body towards her in the seat. I lean forward, letting my lips brush against her ear as I speak. “You going to fuck around with my girl in front of me, and then offer to get me off in the same breath? You’re so fucking sweet, but I’ll pass.” I pull back, lifting my legs up and out of her hold as I tuck them in front of me on the chair.
She throws her head back and laughs. It’s genuine, the loud sound growing from her belly and spilling out of her perfectly pouty lips. “Yeah, I know,” she pauses and turns her face towards me. “She’s different for you.”
It’s the way she says those words. So brutally, so honestly. They sink through my ears and settle in my chest because I know they’re true. As much as I can’t have her around, can’t have anything do with a friendship with her, she’s already been permanently scarred in my mind and along my flesh.
I meet her gaze with my own in silence, sucking my cheek in between my teeth while I tap my hand on my knee. I don’t know how to respond to that, how to be real with her about all of this.
“You don’t have to answer. I know it’s true, but you have to be fucking careful because you know who will get his hands on her the second
he realizes it as well. He can’t know that you care about her, Ruby. He’ll ruin her.” This time, her eyes search mine in desperation. Because she knows exactly what she’s saying is true. He can never know.
I shut my eyes and let my head fall back against the chair, dropping my arm across my face as I attempt avoiding all of this bull shit. “I know. I fucking know. But I don’t think she’ll be back. I think she’s finally gone for good.”
“In that case, I’m sorry for you. You don’t let something that powerful go so easily.”
I snap my eyes open and narrow them on her, dropping my hand to rest against my knee. “Fuck you, K. Why don’t you pay more attention to the try-outs and less attention to me.”
“They all suck, honestly. They’d look better on their knees eating my pussy than they do on a pole.”
I laugh at her dismissive admittance. But she’s about right, none of the girls stand out incredibly well. I have a gut feeling of the few girls Sal will hire, but that’s only because he has a thing for redheads and brunettes. Odds are, I’ll be the one training them on Monday’s session, so I’ll have full confirmation then.
I settle back into my chair, forcing my mind to relax and focus on other things outside of Aura. I need to move on, forget I ever met her. I have a lot to work through tonight, and I’d rather detach myself as much as I possibly can mentally before I have to meet with Dom.
My eyes are shut as I settle into the wave of the music. I can dissociate myself from my emotions here. The static noise that constantly buzzes in my mind and stresses me out slowly fades into darkness.
Here, it’s only me and my body. Me and the pole. Me and the music.
Halsey’s Bad At Love cracks through the speakers and I know that’s my cue to step through the curtains. I inhale a deep breath, forcing every single worry, every thought of Aura out of my mind and as I move onto the stage. I’m in bright white fishnets tonight and their torn in several places that show off more of what I want people to see.
More of me. Because even while I’m private in my actual friendships and relationships, the stage is where I can give them everything without shame. Show them who I am without judgement because I actually don’t care up here. I’m ahead of everyone else on stage, I’m in control and this is where I prefer to be.
On top.
I step around the pole while neon lights flash around my feet, they spark along my body and light me up to a euphoric feeling of release. I start by kicking one leg out and stepping wide around the pole, swinging casually while I slowly lift and remove my cropped heather grey vintage tee. I drop it to the floor off to the side and vaguely here several a few hoots and hollers that I immediately avoid.
This is my time.
My shimmery sheer bralette is a new addition tonight. I usually don’t wear anything this light in terms of style. I’m typically in black, a matching degree to the several black tattoos that litter my arms and ribs. But tonight I’m in white because I oddly felt drawn to it. Something lighter to contrast with my darker nature, something I can taint and pervert in the ways I’d like to.
I’m taking the innocence and breaking it’s mold, recasting it into a darker blend of ruin.
Give me purity and let me claim it, make it mine and shred the strands into something beautifully nefarious.
Something like Aura—who only belongs to me. Or who I want to belong to me.
I stumble slightly on my last step, surprising even myself as I balance my stance again. I never stumble. I’m always steady on my feet but the fleeting thought of Aura caught me off guard.
I shake my head, laughing it off so the crowd doesn’t notice and wrap both of my hands around the pole as I pick up my pace and jump, spinning around while I lift my legs into a chair seat position.
More yells, more whistles of approval and shallow compliments. As I fall back to my feet, I absently lift my hands slowly over my shoulders, trailing my fingers over the thin straps of my bra with my back pressed up against the pole. I pull them down, lazily removing it and dropping it to the floor at my feet.
It isn’t cold in here, it’s actually rather hot. But an icy chill shoots down my spine and my body responds in physical goosebumps. My eyes fly instinctually upwards, glancing across the room while I continue dancing. I look for Dom, who is usually seated in the back while he watches me. But he isn’t there, and I keep moving and scanning the busy space as more customers fill scattered tables around the room. Bartenders hurry around, handing out drinks and shots as fellow dancers flirt alongside countless men and women.
But something feels off. It feels like there are more eyes on me than I’d like. I’m so used to tuning people out, but the energy has shifted in this place from toxic lust to inherently dangerous.
Finally, I spot him. The set of eyes that are focused to intensely on me. He isn’t as far back as I would have imagined, instead he sits only a few feet away. The only man at his table, no company or bartender to give him a drink. One of the girls steps near him but he waves her off without taking his eyes off of me.
He’s dressed strictly in white, and an eerie lump builds in my stomach at the sight of it because I somehow feel like we’re associated with each other. It doesn’t make sense, I realize that. But his supposed purity is so far from white that’s incredibly black. It’s evil and all the energy around him seems to suck any potential light from the room.
I’m not saying this place is good by any means, but it isn’t as vile as this man. I can feel that, in his harsh stare and tight jaw. It’s in the way his fingers tap against the table. Slow, calculated, intentional.
I finish my set on auto, completely lost in my mind to the man ahead of me. I feel sick in a way that’s similar to Dom and as I step back off the stage and through the curtains, I find myself clutching my chest as I struggle to catch my breath.
“You good?” Skilla, another dancer, one that’s relatively new stops in front of me as she notices my near break down. I glance up quickly, noticing her long white hair as it flows in ringlets down past the small of her back. Her makeup is done in bright, loud colors. Blues, yellows, some oranges paint her face in something trendy. Something that will get her a lot of dollars and a lot more attention than I like to have.
“Yeah, yes. I’m fine,” I say with a hoarse voice. It scratches coming up my throat but I force the pain away, focus on clearing my mind of the haze and confusion.
She steps forward, placing both of her hands on either side of my face as she tilts her head to meet my gaze. “Are you sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do you want to sit down?” Her hands falls to my shoulders as her fingers begin kneading the tension out of my body. “I can help you. Relax, you know? I wouldn’t mind taking care of you.”
My eyes dart up to meet hers as I try to understand her intentions. Is she hitting on me right now? In the midst of my fucking discomfort? Or is she trying to be a genuine friend? Her thumb slips across my collar bone, dropping slightly as she continues to massage me. It feels good, I won’t lie and the sense of her hands working against my tired muscles is enticing. But Aura flashes to the forefront and for fuck sake, I just can’t shake her tonight.
“You have a customer in room three,” Chad’s voice breaks me out of my dazed moment and I step out of Skilla’s hold. She drops her hands to the side and nods her head, relinquishing back to wherever it was she was going prior to this.
“Yeah, Dom. I know, I’ll be there shortly.” I step to the side and walk away from him, leaving him behind me as I move towards the prep room.
“No, not Dom. Someone else. But Dom will be waiting for you when you’re finished in his usual room.”
Just as he shouts the words behind me, everything sinks in. The realization that he said room number three. Three. Not Dom’s usual room, it couldn’t be him. Of course not, this is someone new.
That nausea washes through me again and for a moment, I think I’m actually afraid of what I’m about to walk into. I’m worried of what he’ll
want from me. But I force all of the unease and anxiety away, mustering every bit of strength and power I can manage. I’m my own fucking person, and this isn’t Dom, I can walk away from him if I need to.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I turn into the room. I reach for my water that sets on my vanity and chug it, replenishing myself in every way I can possibly manage before I walk into this.
And then I turn back around, throwing on the clothes I had dropped on the stage and walk back out of the room. I move through the club, keeping my eyes focused straight ahead, my chin tilted high until I reach room number three.
Twisting the black iron knob, I slowly push the door open and step inside, wondering what exactly I’m about to walk into.
I step into the dark room and slowly shut the door behind me, listening to the deafening click of the latch as it falls into place. My eyes meet his gaze immediately, and the tension is already thick and strangling in the small space.
Everything is red in here, a dark maroon velvet that layers the long bench seat on one side of the room and spans over the floor and walls that surround it. Black buttons are cinched in deliberate patterns across the fabric, seven across, five down.
Those buttons mean something to me. They’re painful when your cheek is smashed roughly against them. They scratch your skin when arms are dragged against the rough surfaces.
Thirty in total along the back of the bench seat. I know, I’ve counted them over and over and over again when I need to detach my mind from what’s happening.
“What the fuck do you want?” I ask bitterly, I have a feeling he isn’t here to get a hand job.
He smiles in a way that looks sweet and innocent, but the manner in which his bright white teeth glow under the black lights has me thinking differently. “Nova.” His voice is low, deep, and sadistic as he draws the word out on his tainted lips.
Nova.
“What the hell did you just say?” I ask, taking a slow, small step towards him.
