by Abby Angel
Oh, God, why is a woman like that in Python of all places?
With Austin?
What the hell is going on in this place?
Maybe I shouldn’t have been telling him all this…
I mean, it sort of shows that I know more than I should, but I can’t stop myself. If there’s a chance that Austin has nothing to do with whatever’s going on, I want to take it. I want to believe.
Then Austin does something I wasn’t expecting at all.
That motherfucker…he starts to laugh.
The sound of it is almost contagious, but I’m too stressed out right now to join him.
Why are all the men around me acting crazy today?
“What’s so funny, Austin?” I’m asking almost hysterically. “She’s a criminal!” I cry out, pursing my lips and looking into his eyes.
“She’s not a fucking criminal, I can promise you that,” he tells me, his lips curling into an easy smile. “Far from it.” The way he says it, I can’t help but believe him… I’ve built myself into someone who keeps her guard up at all times, but whenever I’m around him I can’t help but trust him, something I haven’t done for a long, long time.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m fucking positive,” he tells me softly, but then he frowns. “Although… What you told me, that seems like it’s coming out of the mouth of someone else.”
I look at Austin as he narrows his eyes. “You know, Destiny,” he sighs, “this isn’t the first time the police commissioner has tried to get someone inside Python.”
My heart sinks once more, but this time it’s because I realize that my small lies are starting to rear their ugly head.
Fuck. He’s going to stop trusting me.
I’m sorry if I’m becoming grouchy, hun.
I don’t want to lose his trust and ruin… whatever there is between the two of us.
“Austin… Don’t say that. Don’t imply that I… That I have anything to do with that,” I tell him, lowering my voice as my heart tightens up at my lie. I’m digging myself into a hole, and I have no idea how I’ll escape from there once I’m deep enough.
“I believe you,” he tells me with a smile, and that makes it all worse. I believe you; his three words hit me like bricks, and I feel sick to my stomach because he truly does seem to believe me. He trusts me. And I’m paying his trust in kind by lying to him.
“But why would he want to get someone inside here?” I ask. “What does the police commissioner have to do with Python?” I start, desperate to get some solid answers. With a smile, Austin takes my hand.
“Come with me,” he tells me, and then leads me to a door with a STAFF ONLY sign hanging on it. He slides a magnetic key card over the slit on the side, and pushes the door open, leading me in as he steps inside.
We’re in a corridor, and I can see a few half-naked men laughing and talking as we walk past the open doors by our side. We take a turn and end up in a wide room, a set of stairs on the end of it; the man I saw minutes ago up on the stages comes down from them, and I realize where they lead.
“Good job, Maverick,” he tells the man as we walk past him, and he gives Austin a nod.
“Thanks, boss,” he says cheerfully, and then disappears down the corridor. Two other men appear, and Austin steps between them and the stairs that lead to the stage, stepping away from me. He tells them something in a hushed tone and both men turn on their heels and walk back to where they came.
“You see, Destiny,” Austin tells me, walking back to me and stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. This time I don’t shudder at his touch… No, this time I feel that maddening warmness inside of me, a ball of lust and desire forming in my stomach.
“This is the first time in history that a place like Python has happened,” he says to me. “There was nothing like this before anywhere.”
I gasp as I feel his hands touch me. He runs his hands over me, possessing me, as he speaks. “A place made for women,” he says to me. “Men all have their fucking dens and pleasure houses, if you want to call them that, but women always had to settle for something more… tame. I love women, and I sure as hell don’t make that a fucking secret, as you’ve been able to tell by now.”
“I know,” I tell him, a smile forming on my lips.
“That’s why I started Python. I wanted a place where women could be themselves, and then some more. In here they’re safe…”
He trails off and I look at him, my eyes asking him to explain more.
I mean, is he telling me this is more than just a strip club?
More than just a sex club?
Seriously, what is it with people and grand plans lately? Why can’t we just have good ol’ fashioned simple fucking sex?
Sorry.
I’m still a bit scattered from everything, ya know?
Austin continues. “Safe from everything out there in the world,” he says to me. “From judgment, from shame, and from things way worse than that. This is a haven for the most beautiful creatures on Earth, Destiny,” he continues, and I believe every single word of his.
He’s really passionate about Python, and it’s not like when someone is passionate about a business. To Austin, Python is much more than just a business.
“But… Why would the commissioner have trouble with that?” I ask, tying my brain into knots as I try to find an answer to my own question. There’s none that I can see.
“Some people don’t like women to be as free as I want them to be. And some people… Well, let’s just say that some people not only don’t understand what I stand for, but they actively oppose it. The commissioner is one of these people.” His answer is a vague one but, for now, it’s more than enough. My fears have been soothed, and I’m back to believing that there’s going to be a way out of this mess I’m in.
“You’ve built something great,” I tell him, squeezing his hand in mine as I look into his eyes. These bright smart eyes of his. “I see it every time I walk in here.”
His lips curl upward into a gentle smile—not a grin, but a true tender smile—and he squeezes my hand back. “It’s not enough to see it, Destiny,” he tells me, “you have to feel it.” With that, he pulls me toward the stairs at the end of the room and walks up, pulling me after him. He isn’t going to make me walk on stage, is he?
“Austin, what are you--”
“Let me show you,” he cuts me short, whispering as he pulls me onto the stage, my heart racing so fast I can’t even think, “the power of Python.”
Destiny
The moment Austin steps under the spotlight, everyone falls silent; I guess it’s not every day that Mr. Python himself walks on stage. He pulls me by the hand, leading me right toward the center of the stage, and then lets go of me. My heart is racing, and I can barely think straight; what is Austin going to do?
I narrow my eyes into slits, but I can’t see a thing. The spotlights are focused on both Austin and I, and the bright lights blind me to everything else. I just hear the hushed voices of the women in the crowd, anticipation dripping out of every single word. I don’t think I have ever felt such tension at Python; this is a special event, and not just to me.
“Let’s give them something to remember,” Austin tells me, and then leans into me and, running one hand through my hair, whispers. “I sure am going to give you something to remember,” he says, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Grinning, Austin turns on his heels and walks to the edge of the stage. He opens his arms and looks up and, even though I can only see his back, he looks like a God to me.
Moving slowly, he takes his hands to the collar of his shirt and, grabbing it, he pulls on it harshly. The moment he does it, there’s a loud sound coming from the speakers, the deep rumble of the bass and drums as a sensuous music starts. The crowd buzzes with excitement as the buttons in his shirt pop out, baring his ripped pectorals and hard wall of abs. I can’t help but walk toward him and, before I can stop myself, I’m pressing my body against his, my
eager fingers resting right over his abs and slowly running all the way up to his pecs. The crowd cries out, the women trying to live through me as I feel Austin’s body; they’re probably thinking that I’m part of the show. They have no idea that this whole show is meant for me.
I run my fingers down the side of Austin’s body and, when I meet the hem of his pants, I slide my fingertips over his leather belt and only stop when I find its buckle. My fingers work with precision as I open it and then pull the belt out from its loops. Folding it upon itself, I snap the two ends together with a dry sound, and then hand the belt to Austin. I don’t know why, but I want him to use that belt on me… Exactly how, I don’t know. He takes it from my hands, and then my fingers go back to the front of his pants; I pop out the button on top, but before I can grab his zipper and pull it down, Austin turns on his feels to face me, the folded belt still in his hands. The look in his eyes makes my insides clench, and my heart starts racing at a furious pace.
“Sit down,” Austin tells me, and I raise one eyebrow at him. Sit down where? But I don’t need to ask him that: one of his male dancers—one of his Cobras—steps onto the stage and places a chair right in the middle, one of the spotlights aiming straight at it. I grin, anxiety eating my heart out, and walk toward the chair. I sit down and wait patiently as Austin walks toward me, my eyes never leaving the belt he has in his hands.
Letting go of one end of the belt, he lets it fall until it almost touches the floor. Then, lifting it up, he brushes it against my knee and slides it up until it meets the hem of my dress. Using it to push my dress up, he bunches the fabric up until he manages to get a glimpse of my (completely drenched) black lace thong.
Then, he goes around the chair and positions himself behind me; the end of the belt is on my knee again, but this time he slides it up over the fabric of my dress, only stopping when its leathery end is nestled right in my cleavage. I’m breathing hard now, anxious to feel the warm touch of his fingers on me and not the cold one from his belt, and as if he can read my mind, that’s exactly what he does.
He hangs the belt on the chair and, placing both his hands on my shoulders, pushes the straps of my dress down my arms. The fabric hangs limply over my tits, revealing the outer edge of my bra, and he lets go of it. He’s going for a slow boil, and I can already feel the atmosphere in the whole bar changing. What’s happening here? I can almost hear the dozens of women looking at us wondering. They’re confused and horny, and completely unable of taking their eyes off of Austin and I. They’re in a trance, and we are the pendulum drawing them into dreamland.
“What are you doing, Austin?” I ask him, my words drowned out by the loud bass coming from the speakers. Still, he hears me and leans into me, a whisper in his lips.
“Just wait and see,” he says, “I’m going to show you what Python is all about.” That makes my heart tighten up inside my chest; what is Python all about, after all? It’s not really a bar, and it’s not really a strip club. The place where dreams come true, one of the signs over the entrance reads, but what does that even mean? Sure, I like hot guys as much as the next woman, but what is all this conversation about dreams?
He walks around the chair once more and, now facing me, he grabs me by the hand and pulls me up to my feet. Then, before I can react, he grabs me by the hips and places one forearm across my lower back, forcing me to bend over; my hands go straight for the chair and I support myself there. I don’t even move as I see him reaching for the belt; I just grow wet, my juices soaking my thong and starting to drip down my thighs.
He places the tip of his fingers on the back of my knee, and slides them up until he’s touching the hemline of my dress. Then he lifts it up quickly, throwing it over my waist and baring my ass cheeks. Oh, God, I can already see where this is going.
Folding the belt again, he runs the leather over my ass cheeks and my crack, and then he takes it off of me. I close my eyes, bracing myself for the impact, but it doesn’t come. Only when I relax my body and open my eyes to see what’s happen, do I hear the whistle of the belt cutting through the air, and then I can’t stop myself from moaning as the leather lands dryly against my bare ass cheeks. I’m grabbing the chair so harshly that my knuckles are turning white. Then, I hear that whistle in the air again and clench my ass.
“Fuck,” I moan loudly, my voice quivering and blending with the dry sound of the leather smacking my ass. Austin isn’t holding back, even though he isn’t really smacking me with all his strength, he’s not being gentle about it either. And, God, I just love it. There’s something about bringing a little bit of pain inside the bedroom, or, well, the stage. I know that not all women enjoy it, but I've always loved to roughen things up a bit. “Harder,” I tell Austin, looking back at him with a devilish grin on my lips.
“Harder it is,” he grins back at me, lifting his arm and then lowering it, the belt firmly clenched by his closed fist. I face forward and grit my teeth, a violent shiver going up my spine as I feel the pain of impact. By now, my ass should be covered in strips of burning red, and I get even wetter as I realize that every single woman inside Python would trade places with me in a heartbeat, and all just for a chance to be closer to Austin.
I cry out loud as pain stings me again, but this time he isn’t using the belt to smack me; no, he’s using his open hand. He smacks me again and again, the rhythm of it keeping up with the steady beat of the music. I’m moaning like crazy, my voice quivering as I feel my nipples screaming to be set free from my bra, my pussy desperate to get rid of the thong.
“Stand up,” Austin whispers, and my body obeys. I stand up and turn on my heels to face him; with a smile, he throws the belt onto the floor and then, placing both his hands on my shoulders, pushes me back. I sit down on the chair as the music kicks into high gear, and Austin places both his hands on my knees and forces me to spread my legs. Standing up, he lifts his right leg and places his shoe right between my legs. I move as if I’m in trance, reaching for his shoe and untying it. I take it off, and then he switches legs and places his left foot between my legs. I do the same, untying his shoe and taking it off, and it seems that with every piece of clothing that comes out of Austin’s body the crowd goes crazier and crazier.
Taking the lead, I reach for his waist, allowing my fingers to slide down to his crotch, and I flatten the palm of my hand against his hard on. His thick shaft is already pushing against the fabric of his pants and against my fingers, and so I do the next logical thing: I pull his zipper down. The moment I do it, his hard cock pushes even more fiercely against his boxer briefs and I have to take a deep breath to stop myself from pulling both his pants and underwear down to his ankles. We’re on stage, right? So let’s put on a show for all these women.
I take my fingers back to his waistline, and slide them around it until they’re resting over his ass. Hooking my fingers on his pants and boxer briefs, I start to pull them down, baring his ass to all the horny women in the audience. They whistle and shout, going completely berserk as I reveal more inches of his body. Then, moving quickly, I push it all down to his ankles, his cock springing free right in front of my face.
Austin steps out of his clothing and then, picking up his boxers from the floor, throws them into the audience. I can only see shadows and silhouettes, but judging from the anxious sound from the women in the crowd, I know that some lucky girl has managed to snag Austin’s underwear. Swear to God, women can be raunchier than men.
Facing the crowd, Austin walks to the edge of the stage again and pushes his ruined shirt down his arms. The crowd gasps as he opens his arms and throws his head back, revealing his naked body in all its glory. Some of the women get up from their seats and walk up so that they can take a better look at Austin’s gigantic cock. From the corner of my eye, I see some of the security guys getting up from their discrete corners to position themselves between these women and Austin, but he just waves the men away. This is a women’s club, and Austin wants them to be as wild as they want to be. An
d that’s exactly what they do; they go to the edge of the stage, reaching for Austin and cry out in delight as they manage to brush their fingers against the naked skin on his legs.
Turning around, Austin walks back to me, his hard cock making me lick my lips in an unconscious motion. I need him inside my mouth again… And then I need him somewhere else too.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, looking up at him as a knot in my throat starts to form. He smiles, deviousness painted on his lips.
“Whatever you want, babe. This is how we do things around here. You can do whatever the fuck you want, and you can go as fucking wild as you need to.”
“I can go fucking wild,” I tell him, a ball of anticipation forming in my stomach. Oh, I can be very, very wild.
“Then what are you waiting for?” he whispers, and I reach for him, placing both my hands on his ass and pulling him in. His cock bounces right in front of me and I just go for it; I take one hand to it and curl my fingers around its thickness, my skin prickling as I feel that sweet warmness of his spreading to my body.
I start moving my hand back and forth, biting on my lower lip as the whole room seems to go mad. Women are whistling and shouting things at the stage, but I can’t make out what they’re saying. I just feel the electricity hanging in the air, as if every single atom at Python was attuned to both Austin and I. Right now, we’re the center of the Universe.
Whatever you want, he told me, and I wonder how far I can go. What if I want to suck him right here on stage? What if I want to fuck him? Is that too far, or does 'whatever you want' include all these things? Well, there’s only one way to find out.
Licking my lips again, I lock eyes with Austin and start leaning into him. I stop just one inch away from the tip of his cock, and he grins at me with that what are you waiting for? look on his face. Fuck, I’m nervous right now. I’ve made porn movies and worked as a stripper… But now, sitting on this stage with Austin, I feel like the world is at my feet, and I’m nervous. There’s something special about Python, no doubt about it, and I’m starting to feel it. It’s in the atmosphere of the place, it’s in the dancers and in the way every single women in here seems to be having the time of their lives… Yeah, this is more than a bar or a strip club. This is way better than that. I just wonder how much better.
