Freedom and Commando

Pardon the interruption. I know you were expecting Puddles and Whiskers and so was I, however I woke up at 5 am with a dream/story demanding to be written. Warning, this is rough and odd, yet I think there may be something there to explore later. Here is a detail or two not obvious, Commando is invisible-always-and there is a third character missing, a dwarf or baby (remember it was a dream) wearing a shirt “I went to Cabo and all I got was this T-shirt” carrying a large shotgun or a grenade launcher…oh yeah and this took place in the future. Dreams.


Freedom watched five troopers on patrol through her scope, playing the crosshairs over each one, setting up the perfect shot before moving onto the next one. She let the crosshair linger over a commander, picturing the shot in her mind when she felt a familiar pair of hands wrap around her waist and pop her quick-release belt.

“Not now Commando I’m working.”

“And I know your work excites you,” he said huskily into her ear as her fatigues dropped to her knees. “Oh you dirty girl, your commando too.”

Freedom adjusted her stance, legs apart a bit more allowing Commando access between her legs. His warm hands gliding up and down her legs before diving between them.

“Green light,” their commander announced through their earbuds.

Commando slide a thick finger between her wet lips playing with her clit. She squeezed the trigger and watched a trooper’s head explode into a fine mist just as Commando slide two fingers inside her. Freedom let out a sigh of pleasure.

None of the troopers reacted, yet. The crosshair caressed another trooper’s head, Commando thrust hard with his fingers; she squeezed the trigger a second time, moaning aloud as the trooper’s head disintegrated.

Two of the troopers dove for cover behind a wall. With a flip of a switch, she watched them crouch behind the wall, no hiding today. Commando stroked her engorged clit while pushing against her; she felt his cock against her ass before he pushed down. As his cock slid into her, she squeezed the trigger; a puff against the wall, behind the wall a trooper slid down, headless. Commando second thrust, deeper, harder, Freedom caressed the trigger a fourth time, moaning in pleasure while she watched the fourth trooper fall over.

Commando grabbed her hips, pulling her back onto him with each thrust. She was lost in pleasure, not seeing as much as knowing. The final trooper ran; smart, until he too dropped headless. Freedom moaning with pleasure, gripping Commando’s cock with her pussy, milking as much pleasure as she could from him. Loving his hands on her hips, him pounding her from behind.

The commander got to his vehicle, he must have thought he was safe, Freedom loved the “I survived” look on targets faces. Another flip of a switch. Another hard thrust. Another moan. A final shot. The commander’s headless body slumped into the steering wheel. Freedom came hard, her pussy clutching Commando’s cock several times rapidly. She pushed back with a hand; he slid out of her.

“I got mine,” she said with a wink.

She pulled her fatigues up, buckled them, and started for the door.



Getting Into The Swing With A Sling

Arm in a sling I am slowly getting back into the swing of things. Writing or typing for long periods will have to wait, as is the ability to use a seatbelt buckle. Hopefully no longer than the end of the week. We shall see.

Since I cannot type to long, I present to you another erotica rough draft…perhaps this will get me to finish it…when my arm works. 🙂

She shivered in the cage, naked except for a wide black leather collar. She heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs. He was coming for her. She shivered with anticipation, the cold no longer a concern. He was in the room with her, she could not see him in the dark, but she knew from the sound of his footsteps he was approaching her cage. The cage door opening caused her to jump.

“Come here, pet,” in his deep bass voice.

On her hands and knees, she shuffled to the opening of the cage. His large hand grasped the back of her neck holding her in place. A click and a tug, her leash was in place. She moved on all fours following the leash. To slow and she would be punished. Too fast and she would be punished. The cement floor was cold and rough on her hands and knees.

The leash went slack. She stopped. No lights, she had to guess what he was doing and where he was. The crack of the nine-tails happened seconds before the lashes struck her back. She cried out and immediately regretted her outburst. The nine-tails struck her between the shoulder blades, the pain caused her to wince, and her head dropped. The nine-tails struck across her ass. The pain was intense, but arousing.

“Head to the floor,” his voice boomed from the dark, “ass in the air. Display yourself.”

She placed her head against the concrete. Her ass went higher as she spread her legs. What could he possibly see in the dark she wondered? The nine-tail struck the right cheek of her ass; one of the tails struck her exposed anus. She tried to muffle the pain, but failed. The nine-tails struck her left ass cheek and then her right. He alternated strikes three times. With each swing of the nine-tails, she could feel the cool breeze on her pussy she was wet. Her ass was sore, her anus even worse. She had managed to stay quiet. The pain was arousing to her.

His muscular legs pushed her legs apart as he knelt between her legs. The leash pulled tight, pulling her head off the floor. His engorged cock slid into her. He was big and the position made him seem larger. Without preamble, he began to drive himself into and out of her pussy. He pulled almost all of the way out, before slamming into her, hard enough to cause her arms to buckle, but the leash kept her upright; choking her into maintaining the position.

He leaned into her, driving his cock deep, the leash choked her as his weight pushed her to the ground. His left hand roughly grabbed her breast. Clutching and grabbing onto the flesh. Then his fingers pinched around the nipple. The pain from her nipple radiated throughout her body as he continued ramming into her. She was surprised how aroused she was, she could hear how wet she was as he pulled out and drove in with a slick sound ending in their flesh smacking together.

Light headed from the collar, he did not seem to be concerned, driving himself as deep as he could into her. His fucking had driven her head to the concrete, her arms laying at her side. Her ass was in the air because of the leash and because he would pull her hips up every few thrusts.


Pain flared across her chest, snapping her to consciousness. Eyes wide, she could not see anything in the dark, but she knew that she was on her back on one of the tables in the room. Her legs locked up in the air and wide apart. Her arms cuffed to the table.

“You failed me,” the booming voice from the dark.

Another blow across both of her breasts. Then another. Her breasts ached, her ass and pussy were sore. He felt his large fingers against her pussy; they slid inside without any resistance. She was wet and wanted more.


Sick Erotica…I Mean, I’m Sick & A Piece of Erotica

Please pardon the absence of anything remotely organized or resembling stories I am working on. Several disease vectors finally nailed me and I am sick. A regimen of vitamin C, hellbroth ramen (that is ramen loaded with gochujang), water, and sinus drugs has me out of sorts…okay the sinus funk has me out of sorts those other things are symptom treaters and comfort food.

Until I get better or at least the headache dies down enough that lights don’t hurt me eyes, enjoy this piece of erotica from several years ago that…well you be the judge. Back to bed for me.

Vampire Dick

She felt euphoric, filled, and wanting at the same time. Andrea reached out in the dark grasping a rigid cock and began stroking. She would have begged the owner of the cock to fuck her, except that a thick cock occupied her mouth, fucking her throat. Another long cock fucked her pussy banging painfully against her cervix every few thrusts and Andrea wanted more. The cock in her mouth swelled larger; a moment later, her mouth filled with his salty semen. She swallowed as fast as she could even as the cock hit the back of her throat causing her to gag and stayed there blocking off air. Her eyes watered, she started to panic, but could not move, hands held her head against his crotch and other hands held her hips down as the long cock fucked away.

Before she thought she was going to pass out the cock pulled out. Andrea took huge gulps of air, before a hand grabbed her throat closing off the oxygen and yanking her off the long cock. Pulled by her throat Andrea was forced onto a man; she only got a brief glimpse of him and his enormous cock before her pussy was split open as the cock forced its way into her. She wimped as the cock pushed her pussy lips apart, filling her cunt up. The hand on her throat let up, only to pull her mouth onto another cock that resumed fucking her mouth where the last one left off. Andrea felt a cock poking her asshole. With a thrust that caused her to gasp the cock forced its way into her ass joining in rhythm the cock in her pussy.

An hour later, Andrea lay on the floor of the basement. Her face, tits, pussy, and ass covered in cum. Her jaw hurt. Her ass hurt. Her pussy hurt. Yet, she wanted more. Needed more. She had no control over this desire of hers even as her body was beyond moving. A shadow crossed her face, more she thought, opening her cum crusted eyes and saw a giant purple, veiny, and throbbing cock attached to well-muscled man. The cock looked angry. The cock radiated sex and anger. Andrea shivered with lust at the thought of every orifice being fucked to death by that cock. The man squatted over her face, resting his balls on her forehead.

“You may cum now, my pet,” he whispered.

The orgasm took Andrea by force; her toes and legs cramped up, her throat raw from the fucking hurt more as she roared with orgasm, she squirted sending a stream across the floor before more ran down her cum leaking crotch onto the floor, finally she curled into a ball shaking with relief. He grabbed her ankles, pulled her legs apart, and pulled her over to him. Her throbbing and aching cunt against the tip of his cock. Just the tip resting against her pussy sent waves of pleasure through her.

“You did this because I commanded you to. You will do more. You are mine,” he whispered as he drove his cock into her.

Andrea screamed in lust and pain. His cock hurt, she thought she was being stabbed, and at the same time it was the best cock she had ever had inside her. Through the orgasm haze and cum covered eyes she watched as his face went from white to healthy pink.

“I have finished feeding. Clean yourself up and return three days from now.”


Three days could not pass fast enough and every passing moment the hunger grew inside of her. By the time she arrived at his bar she was salivating with lust; her pussy dripped, she didn’t bother with panties. Andrea passed the bouncer without a glance from him. As usual, college-age people packed the bar. Most stood at the bar or around the tables drinking, smoking, and talking. A few danced, mostly women to whatever popular pop-tune. Andrea paid them no mind, scanning the bar for Jon.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist and effortlessly pulled her backward into a hard chest. Soft lips kissed her neck. Sharp teeth nipped her neck playfully. He pulled Andrea back a few steps into the corner darkness of the bar, his free hand underneath her skirt parting her sopping lips with ease.

“Naughty girl,” he chuckled into her ear.

While he kissed her neck and ear, he parted her legs with the hand between her legs and rapidly plunged two fingers into her pussy. Andrea gasped in pleasure from the attention to her neck and his attentions to her pussy. She felt his cock pressing against her ass and she wanted that cock inside of her. Jon had other ideas, a sharp bite on her neck followed by sucking sent Andrea into a euphoric state. At the same time, he vigorously finger fucked her pussy until she squirted over his hand. He held her upright the entire time. Weak kneed he spun her around to face him; she could not avert his gaze.

His hand went under her shirt and with a tug he dropped her bra to the floor and kicked it aside. His hands went up her shirt grasping her tits, his fingers pinching her already erect nipples. His penetrating gaze demanded her complete attention.

“You will sit in our booth enjoying the music and people. You will entertain anyone who sits at the booth with you and asks how is your cat. The entire time you are with them you will behave as if you are with me.”

He broke the gaze.

“I have to attend to the bar.”

“I’ll wait for you in our booth,” Andrea said.

“I will stop by when I have a moment,” Jon said as he went to the bar.

Andrea walked across the bar to their booth in a darkened corner of the bar. A drink and platter of snack food was waiting for her.


Nail Clippers, Pages 27 & 28 For Real

Color me embarrassed. In my eagerness to work on Nail Clippers I skipped…let’s leave it at a lot of pages. Thankfully, I caught the mistake. So here is the real pages and the other post will get amended at the right time. In other news, as I move this forward I am writing new material to finish the story or at least move the story along. Enjoy. 🙂


“Do you have few moments to talk about your salvation?” Patience asked.

Chloe’s first thought was to shoot this woman in the knee for disturbing her morning ritual of coffee and quiet contemplation. Stun gunning or macing the woman quickly replaced that thought. Perhaps switching to decaf was necessary. Chloe took a long sip of coffee giving Patience her cop stare.

“I’m on a…”

“Mission from God?” Chloe interrupted.

“Why yes, a mission from God,” Patience said ignoring or missing the Blue’s Brothers reference.

“Before you get started,” Chloe interrupted, “I am leaving for work.”

Patience’s right eyebrow shot up, disbelief, but resignation written over her face. “I could come back another day.”

“That’d be great,” Chloe answered while shutting the door.

“How does…” Patience said before the door shut in her face.

Straightening her shoulders, adjusting her purse, Patience made a silent prayer and walked to the next house. One day, someone would hear her message and his or her life would be changed. One day.


“Sign here,” the nurse said indicating the signature line with a stab of her finger, “and here and here.”

Smirking the entire time, Devin took the pen and signed his name in the indicated spots, “I really am sorry about that accident,” he said as saccharin sweetly as he could muster before bursting out in giggles and snorts.

At Devin’s giggling, Chaz sitting next to the hospital bed snorted in laughter.

“Here is your discharge paperwork, information sheet, and prescription,” the nurse said, not amused. “I hope you pay attention to the instructions, you would not want to return here,” her voice full of menace and a promise of no further “accidents.”

“Are they ready?” a security officer, hand on the hilt of her club asked.

“All yours,” the nurse said as she walked past the officer.

“We get an escort,” Chaz said, his voice cracking on we and escort.

“Only the best of me,” Devin said, smirking the entire time.

“Let’s go,” the officer commanded, gesturing for them to start walking.

Nail Clippers, Pages 27 & 28


Pulling the tornado shelter doors shut and securing the locking bar in place, Jenkins looked down at his problem-he needed to dispose of these bodies and quickly. He kicked the bodies of Chaz and Devin; dumbasses he thought angrily; never again would they cause him or Barbossa trouble.

A day ago…

Barbossa lay on the kitchen floor, not moving. The kitchen, a disaster; table smashed, two of the chairs broken, the other two scattered on the far side of the room, and the kitchen door hung askew. A skateboard rolled across the floor. Chaz sat against the wall holding onto his sides wearing a grimace. Devin stood in the basement stairwell, smug look on his face.

“Told you,” Devin said to Chaz.

“Fuck you,” Chaz retorted.

“Oh shit,” Devin exclaimed.

Jenkins stormed across the room, face red with rage.

“What did you do!” he shouted.

Chaz giggled and Devin snorted.

“Nothing,” both of them said trying to stop laughing.

“Stop laughing!” he commanded, as he crouched next to Barbossa; she was breathing.

He stood up and stepped to Devin, “You and him get out!”

“Why? We didn’t do anything?” Devin responded as his face turning red from trying to hold in the giggles.

Chaz’s giggles turned into laughter; he doubled over holding his sides.

“Stop laughing!”

“Holy shit, my sides hurt,” Chaz said.

Devin looked away from Jenkins to Chaz, “Told you. That was fucking…”

“STOP LAUGHING!” Jenkins shouted as he shoved Devin in the chest. Devin fell down the stairs.

“What the fuck is your problem!” Chaz shouted, standing up.

Jenkins rounded on Chaz, his hands wrapping around Chaz’s throat, “STOP LAUGHING!”

Jenkins bore Chaz to the kitchen floor, using his weight to keep Chaz on the ground. A few minutes later Chaz stopped moving. Sitting back, Jenkins remembered Barbossa. He gently picked up Barbossa, grabbed his keys, and went to his car.

Two hours later, Jenkins returned home. Chaz lay on the floor, not moving. The kitchen remained a disaster zone, but the house was quiet. Jenkins righted a chair and sat down looking at Chaz’s body. Working on a mental list, Jenkins remembered Devin, with a sigh he got up and looked down the basement stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, Devin lay, unmoving, his head at an unnatural angle. Another thing to add to his list.


“That was unexpected,” Jax said to Jetta over dinner.

“But a good surprise?” she asked.


A few moments of silence, Jetta watching Jax push food around his plate, “Is something a matter?”

He looked up, “No,” he began, “I mean it was great…”



“No, I am not leaving you and I am not turning lesbo on you,” Mandy said laughing.

“I wasn’t worried about that,” Jax responded laughing.

“Well then, what is on your mind?”

“Can we do it again?”

“I figured as much,” Jetta said laughing.

Nail Clippers, Pages 25 & 26

Remember how I said, way back when I started this, that I felt the whole story went off the rails and then I gave up? Sure you do, if you don’t it’s in writing. Here is where the wheels really began to wobble. See, I like Old Man Jenkins. I like him as a serial killer of sorts. However, I like him not as a serial killer of sorts. When I wrote this I wasn’t ready to make a decision, he kept being loveable and creepy. So I extended the story by adding new characters, in fact here are two now, a police officer and a reporter…see where this is going? Good, cuz I hope to get there. Enjoy. 🙂


“Awesome game Banks,” Officer Coughlin said as he walked past Chloe Banks standing at the bar.

“Thanks,” Detective Chloe Banks said over her shoulder, “Bobby another round for the team.”

Already celebrating their victory over division rivals, the bar erupted in cheers.



Running his hands over his unshaven face, he wondered what he had done this time. Standing outside the editor’s office, Jacob ran a hand through his thinning hair and straightened out his suit jacket. He tried to put on his best smile, but the best he could muster was his “not so downtrodden” expression.

“Shut the door!” Editor in Chief Ramsey yelled.

Jacob shut the door and sat down with a thud in front of Ramsey’s desk. Even though Jacob barely respected his boss, he always admired how clean and organized the man’s desk and office was. Jacob’s desk was a mess from top to bottom.

Ramsey held Jacob’s latest story between his thumb and index finger waving it in Jacob’s direction, “Do you read what you write before you send it to me or do you write it 15 minutes before deadline and hope that nobody notices?”


Parking in front of their garage, Jax checked the clock on dashboard. He looked over at Jetta who was looking back at him.

“One hell of a night,” he said, putting the car in park.

“Sure was.”

Later, lying in bed, Jetta rolled onto her side to face Jax finishing another book on crossbreeding roses, “What do you think about having Mandy over for dinner this weekend?”

He turned the page, put his finger between the pages, and set the book on his lap before responding. “Sounds like a great idea to me. We could use the grill.”

“I’ll call her and see if she has the time. How is the book?”

“This might be the ticket,” Jax said holding the book up, “I’m taking plenty of notes.”

A stack of Post-It-Notes sat on the nightstand. Jetta loved his note taking, she found some of his notes stuck to walls, clothing, or in other random places all of the time. Each time he responded the same way, “I had an idea.”

Rolling over she said, “Don’t stay up too late.”


Jenkins checked the kitchen clock, eleven fifty-nine flashed twice before noon flashed. Anytime now, Jenkins thought. Barbossa hopped onto the kitchen table.

“Meow,” she said sniffing around the table, doing her best to not look interested in the plate with two strips of bacon.

“Go ahead,” Jenkins said.

Barbossa sniffed the plate, snatched a piece of bacon, and hopped to the floor with her prize. Barbossa stopped eating, ears up. Jenkins looked outside, a Mayer’s delivery truck pulled into the driveway at that moment.

“Your ears are much better than mine,” he said, tossing the last piece of bacon to her.

Half an hour later Jenkins threw open the doors to the tornado shelter. The deliverymen had been nice enough to bring the boxes to the tornado shelter. Carrying the first box, he descended into the shelter, the musty odor overpowering. Jenkins set the box down and fumbled for the string to turn on the light. With a tug, the light illuminated the shelter, dirt walls and floor with vines sticking out of the walls here and there. Lots of potential and work, Jenkins thought as he headed up the steps to get the rest of the boxes.

“Meow. Meow,” Barbossa said rubbing up against Jenkins leg.

He looked down at Barbossa, “Go play.”

“Meow. Meow,” Barbossa said with a tone Jenkins recognized as hunger.

At that thought, Jenkins’ stomach rumbled loudly. Odd, how long had he been working, he thought as he looked to the tornado shelter entrance and saw night sky. He looked around the shelter; boxes and packing material lay in a pile in the center of the room. A wooden table and pegboard were against the back wall. A variety of hammers, saws, and other tools hung from hooks in the pegboard. Several blue storage tubs sat in the corner next to the table. Next to the tubs a large wooden frame stood. Where Jenkins stood, pieces for a larger table lay in a pile. On top of the pile were two table legs attached to the tabletop. Time flies, Jenkins thought.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Barbossa, “I did not realize how long I had been working. Let’s get some food.”

Nail Clippers, Pages 21-24


I was tempted to split this into two scenes, but no matter where I choose it didn’t read right, so here is one long and fun scene especially if you know the music. Enjoy. 🙂


Jax and Jetta stood at the back of the parking lot admiring the decor; neon pink lights from every corner of the building provided enough light that they had no trouble navigating between the parked cars to get to the front of the club. Bass thumped from everywhere, a testament to the sound system, thin walls or both. A neon pink sign adorned with headshots of the main acts blocked their path to the front door.

“I don’t see Mandy,” Jax said pointing at the sign.

“It is her third night,” Jetta replied, walking around the sign.

Other than the neon pink edging lights the building was featureless from the parking lot to the front. The front however, a testament to neon, pink, and cats. “Pussy House Rules” in cursive neon pink lights adorned both sides of the pink leather looking front door. Next to the front door, a cartoon image of a female cat wearing pasties over her ample breasts and a thong waved a greeting. Standing in front of the door, a very imposing man wearing a black suit with neon pink accents. He did not look pleased.

Holding up his hand to Jax and Jetta, “ID’s please.”

They handed over their driver’s licenses, which he peered at, then at them, before handing the licenses back.

“Pussy House Rules welcomes you. Please take time to read the rules of the house at coat check,” he said in a monotone as he held open the door for them. The bass from the club music threatened to knock all three of them over.

“Is this where neon goes to die?” Jax asked.

He could not stop staring at the neon lights; neon pink or light purple lights bordered everything-mirrors, tables, chairs, the stages, the walls, and Jax feared if he stood there long enough he would get covered in neon. The neon gave everything a pink haze making it hard to distinguish colors.

“What?” Jetta shouted.

She could not stop staring at the stage; two women gyrated to a song she did not know, moving their hips, tits, and arms in beat with the music and the crowd of men in front of the stage ate up every move. When one of the women squatted in front of a group of men and began gyrating, money seem to explode out of the pack of men.

“The lights,” Jax shouted back pointing at the club, “Oh…” his sentence drifting off as he noticed the stage.

“Let’s get a seat,” Jetta said heading into the club.

“HEY!” a woman wearing a pink furry bra standing behind a counter shouted at them, “Coat check is five dollars!”

“We don’t have coats,” Jetta responded, walking over to the woman.

“Everyone has a coat,” the woman responded as she pointed at sign next to her counter.

A floor to ceiling sign announcing to everyone the “Rules of the Pussy House.”

  1. All patrons have a coat.
  2. All patrons must have a drink in front of them at all times.
  3. Patrons will not touch the dancers.
  4. Patrons will not get on stage.
  5. Patrons will be respectful of the women at all times.
  6. Failure to follow the rules will may result in harm to the patron.
  7. Pussy House Rules management is not responsible to any harm done to a patron because the patron did not follow the rules.

Jax handed over ten dollars to the woman.

“Thank you and have a good time,” she responded with a wink.

Jetta grabbed Jax by the arm and headed back into the club. They took notice of the three stages, one center stage where the two women continued to gyrate and two smaller stages to either side of the center stage, both were empty. On the far side of the room, a bar and DJ booth. The closest seating to the stage consisted of small two-person tables and as many chairs as could be packed into the tight space. The men nearest to the stage grabbed the closest chair when they needed to sit down. Drinks and empty glasses covered all of the tables. A main thoroughfare separated the stage seating and the next group of tables and chairs, arranged for small groups and couples. A smaller thoroughfare separated the middle section of seating for booths arranged against the back wall. A pink curtain covered entrance near the bar indicated where the private room was located.

The cartoon female cat adorned every available surface; walls, tabletops, glasses, napkins, stage curtains, and even on the seat cushions. Jetta noticed the outfits before Jax. Nudging him in the ribs to get his attention away from the dancer on stage, she nodded to a passing waitress. All of the waitresses had the same costume, furry pink cat ears, furry pink bra, furry pink thong, and furry pink cat tail.

Jetta sat down in a booth with a good view of center stage. Jax stood.

“Not tonight baby,” Jetta pleaded, “just this one time sit in a booth.”

“You know how I feel about booths.”

Jetta rolled her eyes, “I think everyone know how you feel about booths. Would you rather sit at one of the tables over there?” pointing towards some empty tables away from the stage.

Jax looked over his shoulder at the seating, and then moved out of the way of the cat waitress passing by.

“Fine, just this one time, but if we need to escape and cannot because we are trapped in a booth, I hold you responsible,” he said in one breath.

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Jetta said patting a space next to her and rolling her eyes.

Less than a minute later, a cat waitress appeared and took their order, Cokes for now, and returned less than a minute after that with two small glasses with watered down Coke.

“Seriously, seven dollars for this?” he complained.

“When she comes back, order us some beers, at least we will get drunk enough to forget about the cost,” Jetta responded.

The two dancers finally left the stage and for the first time since they arrived, the club was quiet. The stage lights dimmed and over the speakers “Jason” said in a woman’s voice followed by the opening notes of Talk Dirty To Me and the stage lights came up as Mandy strutted onto center stage wearing devil horns, a red reflective bra, red reflective g-string, devil tail, and carrying a pitchfork.

“…get jazzy…” heavy bass and she dropped into splits and popped back up to gyrate to the horns section. The men in front of the stage went crazy. In time with the music, she pointed to the men with the pitchfork and then Mandy grabbed the poll and swung around lowering herself to the stage.

“Uno, friend in Rio…” Mandy bent over in front of the men, squatting in front of them and gyrating her hips, before popping up to go around the poll again. When the horns section started up again she was extending a leg over the men and dropping down to let them stuff money into her g-string.

And just as suddenly, the music changed as Talk Dirty To Me ended, the DJ faded Marilyn Manson’s Sweet Dreams in so that by the time the audience had noticed the shift in music Mandy was dancing-acting out the lyrics “Some of them want to be abused,” when the first bass note hit, she flung her top off.

Mandy used the slow and fast pace of the song to collect money, dance, show off, and collect more money. Jax and Jetta could not take their eyes off her performance. Before the last note of her last song ended, Mandy had strutted off stage, her g-string stuffed with money and a new dancer was on stage.

A few minutes later, the waitress dropped off two more beers when Mandy sat down next to Jetta.

“What did you think?” Mandy shouted, grabbing Jetta’s hand and stood up, “Come on. Let’s go talk some place quieter.”

Jetta grabbed Jax pulling him out of the booth as the three of them headed behind the private room curtain. The private room was no different from the rest of the club-neon, pink, and the club’s cat on every surface. Banks of pink couches lined all of the walls with just enough space between banks to give the illusion that each bank was a separate space. On either end of the room were dancing polls. Other than the three of them, the room was empty.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Jetta asked as she sat down on a couch against the backwall.

“You liked that?” Mandy replied remaining standing.

“You were hot as hell,” Jax said sitting down next to Jetta. Immediately giving her his best “well she was” look.

“You were pretty hot,” Jetta agreed.

Mandy slowly danced in front of them to the music in the club, “I’ve been dancing on and off for a while,” when she saw their expressions, “No, not club dancing, just dancing. That’s all that was, dancing.”

“It looked..,” Jax struggled to find the right word.

“Hot. You looked sexy and like you were having fun,” Jetta finished.

“It’s more fun than I thought,” Mandy replied.

“Sit down and talk,” Jetta said patting an empty seat next to her.

“I can’t. If I am in here I have to be dancing,” Mandy said while dancing in front of Jetta, “I could get fired if Vincento walks in and I am not dancing.”

“I guess you should dance then,” Jax said with a smile, “Wanna a lap dance?” he asked Jetta.

Mandy stepped in front of Jetta, placed her hands on Jetta’s knees and pushed her legs apart, and stepped into the space. Moving with the music, Mandy slow danced in front of Jetta, her eyes always on Jetta’s eyes. She ran her hands over her body and used that motion to straddle Jetta’s leg, gyrating against her thigh while pressing her tits against Jetta. Jetta responded by grabbing ahold of Mandy’s ass, which earned her hands a slap and a waggled finger with a huge smile from Mandy as she danced off Jetta’s thigh and pointed at the Rules of the House sign in the room with a smile.