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“Now, Red, it seems like there’s a call for a doctor and I’m pretty sure Chief’s Ol’ Lady has had more than a few so it has to be you,” Turbo teased and got the crowd going.
“Sorry, Mistress, not going to happen, my Ol’ Lady is already pregnant and I only dance when I want a baby.”
The crowd booed and Turbo stomped a foot. “I know you’re not defying the Mistress. Rank or not this is my house, at least take off the shirt, you can keep the cut on because we all know The Mistress loves her dark leathers.”
The eighties glam rock blared through the speakers until it was overpowered with the howls of women and he peeked through the side curtain to see Roadkill stripping the man down then dragging her nails over his bare chest. Spinning around she gave a warning point to all the other ladies before tucking bills into the boot he’d been carrying and he shook his head. The record scratched again before slipping into Baldy’s song as the man strutted on stage.
Making his way back behind the curtain Mike’s heart thundered. Through the slit he watched as Baldy moved from a suit, to shirtless, playing with his cane as a prop. Spinning, bending and dropping down in a way showing he may need assistance from time to time, but he was healing. And the ladies were loving him.
“You ready, Bugs?” Zoe said passing him a mike. “Because this interruption she hasn’t scripted. There will be a moment of panic, you’ll have her attention for a blip. She can improv with the best of us, but in her eyes you’ll know the truth. Even if she plays along, it will be her eyes letting you know. She’s been my best friend for years, trust me, I know.”
How many people were best friends with Turbo? She made people feel as if they were the one, the special one, he knew that drug like appeal. But he’d seen beneath that and her heart. Maybe she was best friends with all of them. The way she took to Sydney and him never felt fake.
Stepping to the split in the curtain he checked that the mike was on and when the drum beats and harmonica began for his songPinkby Aerosmith began she spun on her toes to see him stepping out. Eyes, he needed to focus on her eyes, they were filling with tears as he made his way on the stage and held his hand up to stop the DJ.
“Mistress Turbo, I’m here to tame that whip of yours.”
* * *
Bugs stood in leather chaps, cock piece with a pair of handcuffs as Porsche’s heart stopped. The crowd was into the reversal as he dropped the mike and snapped his finger to get the song to restart. Her favorite color, pink, was that why he chose the song? She didn’t know, but she was doing everything she could to not crumple against him as he snatched her wrists and bound the cuffs above her on the pole behind her head.
The crowd was a mix of boos and cheers for their MC being bound up until he began dancing. Unlike the other men, Bugs tore the tank top he’d been wearing down the middle and tossed the fabric to the side. Sliding on his knees on the stage until he was at her feet. And she lifted her heel to press into his shoulder. The bills and crowd reaction all faded as Bugs danced for her and her alone.
Her crop had fallen from her hand when he locked her into place and he now used it as he slid up her body his face planting at her sex sending fire through her body. Moving up his nips, bites and tongue he found every sliver of exposed skin or loose part of her costume as if he’d studied it. Bringing him up to her breasts where he licked across the top and up her neck. Her eyes closed, the event gone as he controlled every part of her body.
Smacks of leather kissed her ass before he ran the crop from her forehead, over her nose and to her lips.
“Bite it,” he commanded, she complied without hesitation. Core throbbing and heat blooming as her nipples perked. Their eyes meeting like the first time when he finally gave himself over to her fully. Allowing her to show him the pain and pleasure as he whispered in her ear, “I want to finger the fuck out of you right now and fuck you on this stage.”
“No one could pay me enough to share our dances,” she said, her clit practically buzzing as she heard calls to get it. “But a tease, I’ll give them. The rest is for you and me.”
“I see that now,” he admitted as they stood nose to nose on the stage.
“Good, now let me out of the cuffs and I’ll introduce you to the Mistress.”
Like a good boy he complied and she picked up the mike from the stage.
“Ladies, this man thought he could overpower Mistress Porsche.”
“I called for Mistress Turbo,” he corrected, her name once again being called out in public.
“Well, her, you might have a chance with,” Turbo said, doing her best to keep the tremble from her voice as she got behind him and released the belt holding the chaps on, exposing him to the women who exploded at the sight of him, shirtless in only a leather cod piece. She had to agree it was a sight. “Down boy.”
He dropped instantly and she pointed to a woman in the audience. Not a club member by any means as she held her hand up to communicate with the DJ to restartPink.
“Now, let’s try this dance again,” Turbo said. “I want you to show this lady a good time.”
Bugs eyes cut to her, but he complied. Reaching one hand down he pulled her up on stage and the scheming besties she had ran a chair to the stage for the woman. How much had they taught him? She was about to find out as the song he’d chosen for her from a passing comment to his daughter played and he did well.
She circled the man who did his best to keep his focus on the customer even as she slapped the crop on her palm. Occasionally his ass when she was on the back side. The woman was doing exactly what she expected, freaking out as he grinded over and over. When Turbo passed behind the woman her eyes met Bugs’ and much like teaching him patience to draw out the pleasure she’d taught him the difference. How their dances were deep and meaningful. To her their bodies crashing together were magical and dream making. This was nothing. A show, an act, an interactive play at best. One, when the audience had no ability to truly grasp.
Men had declared their love to her, lusted and followed her out the door, but that’s where it ended. Any man taken into her arms and bed before Bugs were merely players in a game with a clock counting down the ending. Much like the song, the music was fading and this moment would be over. So very different than the dance she wanted with Bugs, she wanted an endless playlist because she couldn’t see a time when the two of them should ever stop spinning.
The crowd came to a hush as the song ended and he stood, dumbfounded in front of her. For the first time in her life she was frozen on stage. He’d done exactly what she’d asked, but had he really learned the difference.
“Have I pleased Mistress Turbo?” he questioned as the poor woman in the chair was the biggest third wheel ever. “Have I shown her I understand and will do anything to call her mine. Even…” his hand waved up and down over the woman. “Did this do anything for you? I don’t know I’m an amateur.”
“ I know,” the woman replied, sending a wave of laughter through the crowd. “But hell, if I wasn’t married—”
