by Alexis Angel
“Health comes first,” she teases me with a smile, but then she’s back to her usual somber self. “So what’s the plan, Austin? I have to know. I need to be ready in case something happens.”
“I’m working out an escape plan with security. If shit hits the fan, they have a few SUVs parked just right around the corner, and they have orders to get the girls out of here before anyone can lay eyes on them. At first sign of trouble, they’ll get them out.”
“Yeah, but to where?”
“I’m working that out, just trust me. I’m looking at renting a few apartments spread across the city so that we move the girls there if we need to do it. It’ll be a few more days to iron out some kinks in all of this, but the basics are covered. If we have trouble, at least security will get them out of here; the rest we can always figure out later.”
Oh right.
You’re wondering who I’m talking about?
What girls I’m talking about?
Don’t worry about it, doll.
Just trust me, okay? I promise you, it’s going to look fucking suspicious, but I fucking guarantee you that I’m being legit.
It may not look it, but I swear it is.
I fucking promise.
“Okay, sounds good,” Mistress Strokes says to me, and looks at me before continuing. “But I still think that --” She suddenly grows quiet, her eyes widening as she looks over my shoulder. “I’m leaving,” she whispers suddenly. She goes up to her feet and, ignoring the orange juice Mike has just set on the counter, turns to leave.
“Hey, where are you going?” I ask after her, but she’s already lost in the crowd. I try and follow her blue hair with my eyes, but when Strokes doesn’t want to be followed or found, she simply vanishes up in the air.
And she’s jumpy too; if she sees anything that she doesn’t like, she runs. “Better safe than sorry,” she always tells me and, even though I agree with her, I can’t help but get annoyed whenever she leaves me hanging like this.
But the fact remains: she saw something (or someone) that she didn’t like and she bolted, just like she always does. I turn on my seat to see what frightened her, but I don’t see anything at first. The main floor is packed with horny women, all of them concentrating on the moves a half-naked Maverick is showing off on the stage, but aside from that I don’t—and then I see her.
Destiny Renee.
Her eyes are wide and, even though she’s standing under the glowing lights, I can tell that she looks pale. I don’t know why, but she saw me sitting here with Strokes and that freaked her out. Fuck, is she going to start getting fucking jealous?
I didn’t think that she’d be the kind of woman to do that. Or is this… something else? Does she know anything about Strokes?
This doesn’t look good. Destiny starts walking in my direction, walking through the crowd with her sure step, and I turn to face the counter. I down my whisky in one single gulp, readying myself to face her, and then I hear her voice cutting through the music.
Yeah, she’s pissed.
11
Destiny
My heart sank the moment I saw Austin talking with that blue-haired woman. Petite and slender, she was wearing a tight fitting black dress and she looked stunning. But that wasn’t the reason my heart sank; no, I felt like that because of the way they were talking to each other. They seemed to be talking about something serious, something secret, and there was a strange air of complicity surrounding them.
Whatever that woman is up to, Austin is in on it. And if Lester’s right… Oh, God, if Lester’s right Austin is not only harboring a criminal, but he’s part of whatever the fuck is going on in here.
And a man like Austin wouldn’t be a part of anything… No, if there’s something happening, Austin is the one leading. That’s the kind of man he is.
I push my way through the crowd, walking through the maze of women, all of them staring in a trance at the stage where one man in a medical outfit dances to an upbeat sensuous tune. I go straight for the bar, where Austin is leaning against the counter, and I only stop when I’m just inches away from him. He turns slowly, as if he has all the time in the world, and shows me his million dollar smile.
“Hey, babe,” he says, and reaches with his hand for my waist, but I smack it away.
“Who the hell is that woman, Austin?” I start angrily, “and don’t bullshit me, I want to hear the truth,” I ask him, staring into his eyes as I feel a knot forming in my throat. God, is Lester right after all? Is something illegal going on here at Python? Please, God, don’t let it be true. I can’t handle that.
“Jealous?” His grin widens even more and I place both my hands on my hips, staring him down.
“I’m not in the mood for games right now, Austin. Just tell me the truth.”
“Why would I lie to you, Destiny?” Austin simply shrugs, taking one step toward me and softly stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.
I shudder under his touch, not knowing what’s the truth anymore, and his lips go from a smile into a serious straight line. “We call her Mistress Strokes. She works for me,” he whispers to me. “And why the interest all of a sudden?”
“Austin… She’s a hooker,” I tell him. “A hooker from the streets, for God’s sake! And not only that, I think she’s on the run. She robs her customers and I think that… that she’s killed them too.”
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 tel
ls 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.”
12
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 a
re 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.