He had been to a few practices with the other male dancers and was getting the ropes of the group numbers. His solo dances and his playlist had been signed off on by management and Rowdy was just waiting to be scheduled for his first shift. Every night of the week the club had women taking to the stage to entertain the gentlemen of the area. Except for Thursdays. It was a promotional thing for The Doghouse that on Thursday nights they host a lady’s night where men did the dancing for the female clientele. Since this was a new angle, the club was trying, they were advertising like crazy while the male dancers prepared themselves for opening night. When opening night was exactly had been announced yet. The managers were taking the pulse of the community to see if a lady’s night with male dancers would have any kind of draw.
Rowdy had been in the library on the university campus since early that morning. He was doing some research on his doctoral thesis and was making great headway into the argument of his paper. Rowdy was a student of class literature, romantic poetry, folklore and mythology. He was putting together a conceptual argument that themes keep repeating themselves throughout history and culture. He wanted to argue that the underlying stories behind tv and movies of today could have been applied to the stories and fables of ancient cultures. It was a long shot, but he was determined.
While he researched his phone vibrated in his pocket with a text message. We are on for tonight. See you at the club about 9pm.
Rowdy texted back I’ll be there.
Rowdy spent the rest of the day in the library doing his research and starting the outline of his thesis. He had been living on coffee and vending machine food all day and his stomach was not happy with him. Checking his phone, he packed up his books and his laptop and headed out of the library on his way to The Doghouse. On his way, he paused at a little pizza place and grabbed a few slices to make his stomach stop growling. He ate as he walked. He used this time to change his mind set from research to stripping. It took all twenty blocks for him to shove the pizza down and get his mind ready to perform so that when he opened the back door to the club, he was no longer Rowdy the dorky doctoral student who lived for poetry and all beautifully written things, he was Hellhound. He stepped into the changing room and all the guys turned to look at him. He received a few greetings but most the guys only saw each other as competition, the vibe wasn’t all that friendly. Hellhound threw his bag down at his station and pulled his street clothes off, tossing them on the table. He stripped until he was nude as costumes were chosen for them by the costume director. Now naked, Hellhound strolled over to the flustered gay man and gave him a look that let him know he just wanted his outfit. Hellhound was handed a garment bag and a box of accessories. Hellhound opened the box and had to take a deep breath. Great...he was a cop for this dance.
He took his costume back to his station and proceeded to put on the police officer's uniform. He found it was way too small across the chest and back and he didn’t want to get in trouble for ripping a costume. All the same, he put on the navy-blue thong, his ample package barely staying covered as he adjusted the string to sit between his firmly toned ass cheeks. The tear away pants were next, followed by black leather boots. He then pulled on the navy-blue button-up shirt but only buttoned the first two buttons at his waist. He then tucked the shirt into the pants and pulled on the belt. He looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his mussed hair. He used a spray bottle at his station to wet his hair and then slicked it back with a little shine gel. The police officer's hat was the last touch. Just as he placed the hat on his head, the stage door opened and the manager said, “Hey, Hellhound, you’re in with the next group number. Make ‘em crave your private show.” The manger saw Hellhound as one of the guys that was going to be the draw for the ladies and walked with Hellhound to the area backstage. “You gotta kill it tonight, kid. If we don’t generate some revenue…” Hellhound nodded and went over to the side of the stage where he allowed himself a few stretches to ensure he was loose.
The guys in this number lined up and they stuck Hellhound front and center so he would be the temptation for audience. The lights behind the certain shut off and the announcer’s voice came over the intercom of the club. “Ladies, throw your hands in the air so these boys can strip search you.” Just then the curtain flew open and the guys were hit square in the face with bright white lights. They soon were swept off them and replaced by alternating red and blue lights, with a white strobe behind them. He followed the movements, though his were far more superior than the untrained males next to him. He moved like water; the other guys moved like they were trying to fuck in the air. Rowdy wasn’t classically trained in dance by any means, but he knew his body and how to move it. He trained several times a week and could control his muscles in ways that few could.
The music was an awful selection; nothing he ever would have chosen for himself. It was full of heavy downbeats and spastic drum solos that gave the guys multiple opportunities for pelvic thrusts and gyrating. This wasn’t Hellhound’s style, but it’s what the boss wanted. He was always a team player and wanted to do what was best for the club and the guys. Though, and this point had been brought up a few times by the guys during practice, when Hellhound practice group numbers, they felt like he got more of the attention from management. It was something he couldn’t help. When most of these guys took to the stage, they attempted to replicate sex without a partner. Hellhound, though his movements were similar, moved through the motions as he was driven by the music. He didn’t just thrust his pelvis and then stop so people could admire the six pack. He would pelvic thrust and, more realistic to sex, he would put a slight hip swivel that would carry him more fluidly into the next move. When he removed his shirt, he ‘tore’ it with the same imitated passion as the others. Only he added a body wave to the motion, letting his perfectly toned muscles flex and stretch in the flashing spotlights.
He wasn’t trying to show anyone up he had just had years more training on controlling his body. He didn’t thrust his pelvis because it was sexual. He thrust his pelvis to emphasize a climatic rise in the music where a bold move was needed to excite the audience. He ripped off his pants when the music and the progression of the dance required it. All the guys grabbed the pants at their knees and pulled the pants forward, causing the snaps to release and the fabric to break away from their skin to reveal the navy-blue thongs underneath. Hellhound, however, performed this move a little differently. He didn’t like to bend over and grab behind his knees, so instead, he stretched his upper body out like he was in the throes of passion, grabbed the pants at the crotch and ripped them forward. The end result was the same. However, while they were all hiding their bodies as the pants came off, Hellhound was displayed perfectly for the lights to hit him, revealing the bulge that was barely concealed by the thong. He really needed to request they get him a bigger cup because one day he was going to have a wardrobe malfunction, and he would expose himself on this stage. He had to be more careful with his movements now. The threat of falling out of the thong was real and he knew he would get in trouble for that. This is what seemed to get Hellhound more attention than the other guys – while they were continuing to hip thrust and shake their asses, Hellhound had to be more creative so he wouldn’t fall out of his costume. He began to move his body, still in the style of the dancers on stage with him, but in a more seductive way that would hint towards more realistic sexual encounter. While he danced, the audience could believe for an instant that his hand as it caressed his body was their hand. The look on his face and in his eyes said it all.
By the end of the song, he had broken out in a slight sweat; the heat of the lights and the warm temperatures of the club always made him sweat during rehearsal and the pressure of opening night only made it worse. He had also forgotten that at the end of this group routine glitter bombs with blue and gold glittered showered down on them. He fucking hated glitter. Not only was it impossible to get off, but it also made him itch and break out in light hives. When the song ended and the guys all gathered their costumes and jogged off the stage, Hellhound was the last one off, the first one naked, and the first one in the bathroom as he scrubbed at his skin. After only being in the bathroom a little over two minutes there was a pound at the door, “Hellhound! You’re on in six!” Rowdy took a moment to collect himself. The glitter wasn’t coming off. Now he was soaked with water and sweating due to discomfort. He placed his hands on the sink to think and tried to collect himself.
He exited the bathroom still covered in glitter. The manager was in the dressing room waiting for him. When Hellhound walked in and looked at the man the expression on Hellhound’s face showed discomfort. The manager looked at him and shrugged, “It’s a little glitter. You’re a stripper. What’s the big deal?” He went over to Hellhound and said secretively, “I’m pulling out all the stops here. I need some good reviews. Please tell me you’re going to knock them all out of their chairs.” Hellhound sighed and nodded to the manager, “Just…give me a minute. You threw me off my game with the glitter.” He left the dressing room and went to wardrobe. The gay man, who could never speak correctly around Hellhound, perked up. “I need a suit. Something classic, please.” The costume director disappeared for a moment and came out with a nice looking suit with the typical break away everything. Hellhound nodded, “Thank you,” He said as he took the suit and went back to the dressing room.
The manager was in the dressing room when Hellhound returned. “You’re on in three. What music am I cuing for you?” Hellhound liked feel good songs. Songs that everyone knew and could sing along to, to some degree, but wouldn’t expect to hear within the walls of a bump and grind kind of strip club. He ran through this playlist and he decided to slow things down and go with ‘All I Have To Do Is Dream’ by the Everly Brothers. He had only used this song once before. It was a very slow song, which meant his performance would have to be dead on. The manager flew into a panic. The song was too slow. No one would like it. But Hellhound ignored him, put on the suit, and took the stage after giving the song choice to the DJ.
Hellhound took the stage and sat backwards in a chair. He put on the look of a love-struck man with no girl at his side. Through the slow duet with only an acoustic guitar as the accompanying music, he put on a show that spoke to anyone in the room of secret love, lust, and masturbation. He peeled the suit off himself slowly, as if he were undressing for a lover. He ran his hands over the contours of his body as he made suggestive gestures with his hands to symbolize he was fantasizing about the object of his desire. These were the kind of performances that made him reach down into his imagination. Because of this, the audience received a little more of a show as he grew visibly harder in the very small thong. The way he performed made any member of the audience believe it could be them he was fantasizing about. By the end of the song, he was down to a solid white thong, that had turned almost opaque in the light, leaving barely anything to the imagination. When the song ended, after two minutes and twenty seconds, he took a bow and exited the stage.
Rowdy had been in the library on the university campus since early that morning. He was doing some research on his doctoral thesis and was making great headway into the argument of his paper. Rowdy was a student of class literature, romantic poetry, folklore and mythology. He was putting together a conceptual argument that themes keep repeating themselves throughout history and culture. He wanted to argue that the underlying stories behind tv and movies of today could have been applied to the stories and fables of ancient cultures. It was a long shot, but he was determined.
While he researched his phone vibrated in his pocket with a text message. We are on for tonight. See you at the club about 9pm.
Rowdy texted back I’ll be there.
Rowdy spent the rest of the day in the library doing his research and starting the outline of his thesis. He had been living on coffee and vending machine food all day and his stomach was not happy with him. Checking his phone, he packed up his books and his laptop and headed out of the library on his way to The Doghouse. On his way, he paused at a little pizza place and grabbed a few slices to make his stomach stop growling. He ate as he walked. He used this time to change his mind set from research to stripping. It took all twenty blocks for him to shove the pizza down and get his mind ready to perform so that when he opened the back door to the club, he was no longer Rowdy the dorky doctoral student who lived for poetry and all beautifully written things, he was Hellhound. He stepped into the changing room and all the guys turned to look at him. He received a few greetings but most the guys only saw each other as competition, the vibe wasn’t all that friendly. Hellhound threw his bag down at his station and pulled his street clothes off, tossing them on the table. He stripped until he was nude as costumes were chosen for them by the costume director. Now naked, Hellhound strolled over to the flustered gay man and gave him a look that let him know he just wanted his outfit. Hellhound was handed a garment bag and a box of accessories. Hellhound opened the box and had to take a deep breath. Great...he was a cop for this dance.
He took his costume back to his station and proceeded to put on the police officer's uniform. He found it was way too small across the chest and back and he didn’t want to get in trouble for ripping a costume. All the same, he put on the navy-blue thong, his ample package barely staying covered as he adjusted the string to sit between his firmly toned ass cheeks. The tear away pants were next, followed by black leather boots. He then pulled on the navy-blue button-up shirt but only buttoned the first two buttons at his waist. He then tucked the shirt into the pants and pulled on the belt. He looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his mussed hair. He used a spray bottle at his station to wet his hair and then slicked it back with a little shine gel. The police officer's hat was the last touch. Just as he placed the hat on his head, the stage door opened and the manager said, “Hey, Hellhound, you’re in with the next group number. Make ‘em crave your private show.” The manger saw Hellhound as one of the guys that was going to be the draw for the ladies and walked with Hellhound to the area backstage. “You gotta kill it tonight, kid. If we don’t generate some revenue…” Hellhound nodded and went over to the side of the stage where he allowed himself a few stretches to ensure he was loose.
The guys in this number lined up and they stuck Hellhound front and center so he would be the temptation for audience. The lights behind the certain shut off and the announcer’s voice came over the intercom of the club. “Ladies, throw your hands in the air so these boys can strip search you.” Just then the curtain flew open and the guys were hit square in the face with bright white lights. They soon were swept off them and replaced by alternating red and blue lights, with a white strobe behind them. He followed the movements, though his were far more superior than the untrained males next to him. He moved like water; the other guys moved like they were trying to fuck in the air. Rowdy wasn’t classically trained in dance by any means, but he knew his body and how to move it. He trained several times a week and could control his muscles in ways that few could.
The music was an awful selection; nothing he ever would have chosen for himself. It was full of heavy downbeats and spastic drum solos that gave the guys multiple opportunities for pelvic thrusts and gyrating. This wasn’t Hellhound’s style, but it’s what the boss wanted. He was always a team player and wanted to do what was best for the club and the guys. Though, and this point had been brought up a few times by the guys during practice, when Hellhound practice group numbers, they felt like he got more of the attention from management. It was something he couldn’t help. When most of these guys took to the stage, they attempted to replicate sex without a partner. Hellhound, though his movements were similar, moved through the motions as he was driven by the music. He didn’t just thrust his pelvis and then stop so people could admire the six pack. He would pelvic thrust and, more realistic to sex, he would put a slight hip swivel that would carry him more fluidly into the next move. When he removed his shirt, he ‘tore’ it with the same imitated passion as the others. Only he added a body wave to the motion, letting his perfectly toned muscles flex and stretch in the flashing spotlights.
He wasn’t trying to show anyone up he had just had years more training on controlling his body. He didn’t thrust his pelvis because it was sexual. He thrust his pelvis to emphasize a climatic rise in the music where a bold move was needed to excite the audience. He ripped off his pants when the music and the progression of the dance required it. All the guys grabbed the pants at their knees and pulled the pants forward, causing the snaps to release and the fabric to break away from their skin to reveal the navy-blue thongs underneath. Hellhound, however, performed this move a little differently. He didn’t like to bend over and grab behind his knees, so instead, he stretched his upper body out like he was in the throes of passion, grabbed the pants at the crotch and ripped them forward. The end result was the same. However, while they were all hiding their bodies as the pants came off, Hellhound was displayed perfectly for the lights to hit him, revealing the bulge that was barely concealed by the thong. He really needed to request they get him a bigger cup because one day he was going to have a wardrobe malfunction, and he would expose himself on this stage. He had to be more careful with his movements now. The threat of falling out of the thong was real and he knew he would get in trouble for that. This is what seemed to get Hellhound more attention than the other guys – while they were continuing to hip thrust and shake their asses, Hellhound had to be more creative so he wouldn’t fall out of his costume. He began to move his body, still in the style of the dancers on stage with him, but in a more seductive way that would hint towards more realistic sexual encounter. While he danced, the audience could believe for an instant that his hand as it caressed his body was their hand. The look on his face and in his eyes said it all.
By the end of the song, he had broken out in a slight sweat; the heat of the lights and the warm temperatures of the club always made him sweat during rehearsal and the pressure of opening night only made it worse. He had also forgotten that at the end of this group routine glitter bombs with blue and gold glittered showered down on them. He fucking hated glitter. Not only was it impossible to get off, but it also made him itch and break out in light hives. When the song ended and the guys all gathered their costumes and jogged off the stage, Hellhound was the last one off, the first one naked, and the first one in the bathroom as he scrubbed at his skin. After only being in the bathroom a little over two minutes there was a pound at the door, “Hellhound! You’re on in six!” Rowdy took a moment to collect himself. The glitter wasn’t coming off. Now he was soaked with water and sweating due to discomfort. He placed his hands on the sink to think and tried to collect himself.
He exited the bathroom still covered in glitter. The manager was in the dressing room waiting for him. When Hellhound walked in and looked at the man the expression on Hellhound’s face showed discomfort. The manager looked at him and shrugged, “It’s a little glitter. You’re a stripper. What’s the big deal?” He went over to Hellhound and said secretively, “I’m pulling out all the stops here. I need some good reviews. Please tell me you’re going to knock them all out of their chairs.” Hellhound sighed and nodded to the manager, “Just…give me a minute. You threw me off my game with the glitter.” He left the dressing room and went to wardrobe. The gay man, who could never speak correctly around Hellhound, perked up. “I need a suit. Something classic, please.” The costume director disappeared for a moment and came out with a nice looking suit with the typical break away everything. Hellhound nodded, “Thank you,” He said as he took the suit and went back to the dressing room.
The manager was in the dressing room when Hellhound returned. “You’re on in three. What music am I cuing for you?” Hellhound liked feel good songs. Songs that everyone knew and could sing along to, to some degree, but wouldn’t expect to hear within the walls of a bump and grind kind of strip club. He ran through this playlist and he decided to slow things down and go with ‘All I Have To Do Is Dream’ by the Everly Brothers. He had only used this song once before. It was a very slow song, which meant his performance would have to be dead on. The manager flew into a panic. The song was too slow. No one would like it. But Hellhound ignored him, put on the suit, and took the stage after giving the song choice to the DJ.
Hellhound took the stage and sat backwards in a chair. He put on the look of a love-struck man with no girl at his side. Through the slow duet with only an acoustic guitar as the accompanying music, he put on a show that spoke to anyone in the room of secret love, lust, and masturbation. He peeled the suit off himself slowly, as if he were undressing for a lover. He ran his hands over the contours of his body as he made suggestive gestures with his hands to symbolize he was fantasizing about the object of his desire. These were the kind of performances that made him reach down into his imagination. Because of this, the audience received a little more of a show as he grew visibly harder in the very small thong. The way he performed made any member of the audience believe it could be them he was fantasizing about. By the end of the song, he was down to a solid white thong, that had turned almost opaque in the light, leaving barely anything to the imagination. When the song ended, after two minutes and twenty seconds, he took a bow and exited the stage.
It was an utterly too long, and too filled with whining from her boss, trip which he proclaimed to be “The Word”, and she could only sigh and shake her head as her eyes went back to her spell book, and her hand lifted the wine. It had been four days of this, because the man still couldn’t grasp the idea of an airplane that could’ve gotten them there in an hour. But noooo, the great Red must always stick to the waters, which meant Asher did too.
Finally, they had arrived in Florida, and although Asher had stayed to help him dock the ship, she had initially taken her bag and went to the apartment building to see just how bad it was, continually wondering why in the world they were here. It wasn’t until Asher had smelled a particular little blonde in the lot that she finally understood why he had been insisting on this way. Asher had smiled to herself as she made her way to her new apartment, sighed to herself once she had seen it, and once the door was closed, used the unholy power she had to do a nice little chemical clean, so it at least wouldn’t smell like death and rot when she returned. It wasn’t an obvious to the neighbours process, but in a matter of seconds, Asher had the apartment transformed, and cleaned. She could have given herself furniture as well, but stopped as she realized that could be much too obvious. Instead, she then showered off the travel, and then dressed herself rather nicely. She chose a nice black and white dress for the evening, with matching shoes and earrings. A very professional look, with a bit of a naughty side from the light dip in the dress between her breasts.
She hadn’t any idea what to do for the evening, as her boss was off seeking out his girl, but Asher took off the other direction, seeking out the nightlife. She was sure this place was seedy as hell, but she wasn’t afraid or worried of what may happen. She passed a bar, but she had been in so many that she wasn’t really in the mood, so she kept walking. A cafe, no. She tilted her head as she thought about it, and turning, spotted a little building with flashing lights. A smile touched her lips as she realized what this was. A strip-club.
She had seen many a man strip, that happened when you lived on a boat most of the time that was full of men, but it was rarer that she saw a man truly dance. She was expecting the typical behaviour of the stripper, but it was at least something she could watch to keep herself entertained. Upon walking in, she saw what she expected to see, gritty tables, lower lighting, etc, but it was no matter. It was to be the fun of her evening. Asher set herself at a table, got a drink, and turned to watch the show.
The show was not a show she was expecting. She watched the man on stage, and her witches eye thought it saw more than what her human eye could. She wasn’t one to reveal secrets, and she didn’t fully know yet as it wasn’t truly her business, but she was old enough to know that something was different with this one. The music choice was clue number one, but in fascination, she watched him move. His moves were not just a dance, but a commitment, a desire that flowed in every twist of his perfect body. It was a silent communication, and Asher allowed herself to be swept up in it for that moment. He was brilliantly composed, and every move had been designed so that she, and everybody else, kept watching.
By the end of the dance, Asher was highly impressed. She clapped along with the others, and let out one sharp whistle as a compliment. She would wait a bit to see if he was perhaps coming back out, but if he wasn’t, then she would have to go and seek him out, though it was unlikely to be for anything more than another wonderful dance. If he did come back to the stage, she would be more than happy to sit back and watch, but if he didn’t, curiosity would burn in her mind until she left the table to find him, and ask him (or his manager) how much a private dance might be.
The manager had been nervous through Hellhound’s choice of a slow song. His eyes were constantly darting between the audience and Hellhound on the stage. The manager headed to the bar to consult with the bartender. Sure enough, six bottles of champagne had been ordered since Hellhound had taken the stage. As the manager contemplated the correlation, he was approached by a dark-haired beauty.
Asher had seen the one she thought to be the manager, and approaching him, asked; “Excuse me. I was wondering about that dancer that was just on stage. Is there any….offers that may exist when it comes to a dance with him?”
The manager cleared his throat and said professionally, “Hellhound offers two different experiences. He had the typical, you sit in a chair, and he dances for you, on you. Ya know…what you would expect a stripper to do.” Then the manager’s expression changed to a more mischievous look, “Then he has the ‘Date Experience’. He will come get you from you chair in the audience and escort you to the private room. Then instead of him dancing for you, he will dance with you. Surprisingly, he is a master at ballroom dancing, and he will manhandle you in a really hot way, though respectfully. This one is a bit more pricy, though.”
Asher listened, and had to smile at the name ‘Hellhound’, curious if that had anything to do with the smell she could pick up, but the money was literally no object for the girl. Working for the world’s biggest coin collector offered a lot of wealth, so she asked for the second experience. Call her curious, but a part of her just had to know how a stripper used ballroom dancing as a tactic. She paid for the dance, and was asked to go sit back at her table to wait for the show to begin, which she did with great and fun anticipation.
Finally, they had arrived in Florida, and although Asher had stayed to help him dock the ship, she had initially taken her bag and went to the apartment building to see just how bad it was, continually wondering why in the world they were here. It wasn’t until Asher had smelled a particular little blonde in the lot that she finally understood why he had been insisting on this way. Asher had smiled to herself as she made her way to her new apartment, sighed to herself once she had seen it, and once the door was closed, used the unholy power she had to do a nice little chemical clean, so it at least wouldn’t smell like death and rot when she returned. It wasn’t an obvious to the neighbours process, but in a matter of seconds, Asher had the apartment transformed, and cleaned. She could have given herself furniture as well, but stopped as she realized that could be much too obvious. Instead, she then showered off the travel, and then dressed herself rather nicely. She chose a nice black and white dress for the evening, with matching shoes and earrings. A very professional look, with a bit of a naughty side from the light dip in the dress between her breasts.
She hadn’t any idea what to do for the evening, as her boss was off seeking out his girl, but Asher took off the other direction, seeking out the nightlife. She was sure this place was seedy as hell, but she wasn’t afraid or worried of what may happen. She passed a bar, but she had been in so many that she wasn’t really in the mood, so she kept walking. A cafe, no. She tilted her head as she thought about it, and turning, spotted a little building with flashing lights. A smile touched her lips as she realized what this was. A strip-club.
She had seen many a man strip, that happened when you lived on a boat most of the time that was full of men, but it was rarer that she saw a man truly dance. She was expecting the typical behaviour of the stripper, but it was at least something she could watch to keep herself entertained. Upon walking in, she saw what she expected to see, gritty tables, lower lighting, etc, but it was no matter. It was to be the fun of her evening. Asher set herself at a table, got a drink, and turned to watch the show.
The show was not a show she was expecting. She watched the man on stage, and her witches eye thought it saw more than what her human eye could. She wasn’t one to reveal secrets, and she didn’t fully know yet as it wasn’t truly her business, but she was old enough to know that something was different with this one. The music choice was clue number one, but in fascination, she watched him move. His moves were not just a dance, but a commitment, a desire that flowed in every twist of his perfect body. It was a silent communication, and Asher allowed herself to be swept up in it for that moment. He was brilliantly composed, and every move had been designed so that she, and everybody else, kept watching.
By the end of the dance, Asher was highly impressed. She clapped along with the others, and let out one sharp whistle as a compliment. She would wait a bit to see if he was perhaps coming back out, but if he wasn’t, then she would have to go and seek him out, though it was unlikely to be for anything more than another wonderful dance. If he did come back to the stage, she would be more than happy to sit back and watch, but if he didn’t, curiosity would burn in her mind until she left the table to find him, and ask him (or his manager) how much a private dance might be.
The manager had been nervous through Hellhound’s choice of a slow song. His eyes were constantly darting between the audience and Hellhound on the stage. The manager headed to the bar to consult with the bartender. Sure enough, six bottles of champagne had been ordered since Hellhound had taken the stage. As the manager contemplated the correlation, he was approached by a dark-haired beauty.
Asher had seen the one she thought to be the manager, and approaching him, asked; “Excuse me. I was wondering about that dancer that was just on stage. Is there any….offers that may exist when it comes to a dance with him?”
The manager cleared his throat and said professionally, “Hellhound offers two different experiences. He had the typical, you sit in a chair, and he dances for you, on you. Ya know…what you would expect a stripper to do.” Then the manager’s expression changed to a more mischievous look, “Then he has the ‘Date Experience’. He will come get you from you chair in the audience and escort you to the private room. Then instead of him dancing for you, he will dance with you. Surprisingly, he is a master at ballroom dancing, and he will manhandle you in a really hot way, though respectfully. This one is a bit more pricy, though.”
Asher listened, and had to smile at the name ‘Hellhound’, curious if that had anything to do with the smell she could pick up, but the money was literally no object for the girl. Working for the world’s biggest coin collector offered a lot of wealth, so she asked for the second experience. Call her curious, but a part of her just had to know how a stripper used ballroom dancing as a tactic. She paid for the dance, and was asked to go sit back at her table to wait for the show to begin, which she did with great and fun anticipation.
Once the agreement was made between Asher and the manager, the manager went to find Hellhound.
Hellhound had removed the thong and was standing naked in front of his dressing mirror with a baby wipe losing his battle with the glitter that still clung to his skin. When the manager walked up, Hellhound turned to him and said annoyed, “If I can’t get this off I am going to have to go home and get in the shower. I told you glitter makes me break out in hives!” The manager said, “Cool your jets. I got something that will work.” He looked around and spotted the dancer he was looking for, “Ted, can I get some of your baby oil?” Hellhound looked at the manager, “That’s not going to work.” The manager caught the bottle of baby oil that was tossed at him by Ted, “Sure it will. This shit gets everything off.”
Ten minutes later and over a hundred wipes in the trashcan. “Look, I’m sorry. I thought it would work.” Hellhound still had glitter on him but he also had a layer of slippery oil and smelled like a newborn baby’s ass. Hellhound was not happy. “I think I am going to head home. I really need to shower before I start itching.” The manager stood in his way and said frantically, “No, no, no, no. You got a private number to do. Someone requested you after your ‘Sweatin’ with the Oldies’ song.” Hellhound looked really annoyed now. “And you’re just telling me this now?” The manager looked at him dismissively, “You distracted me with all the glitter whining. Anyway, Date Experience. Take her to room two.”
Hellhound walked his baby oil smelling self over to wardrobe and requested his Date Experience costume. This outfit consisted of a pair of loose black pants and a black bowtie. He took the costume over to his changing table and grabbed a regular towel. In a last-ditch effort, he used the towel roughly enough to cause his skin to redden in his attempt to now get the oil off. The last thing he wanted to leave his very first date experience client with oil stains all over her clothes. He did the very best he could to be oil free and when he couldn’t get anymore off, he sighed and tossed the towel in the laundry basket.
It took seconds for him to get ready and he made quite the show of coming off the stage and walking directly over to the table with his first client. “I believe someone requested a date,” he said with a sly smile on his lips as he offered his hand to help her out of her chair. He would walk with her as he had seen countless powerful men walk with their dates, showcasing her like her was the masterpiece. When they arrived in private room two, he opened the door for her and allowed her to enter first. The room was dim, cool, and smelled like air freshener. He stood back a little from her and explained his rules. “You are allowed to touch me. But only from the waist up. Touching between my navel to my upper thighs is not allowed. I do not kiss on the mouth. But, if the mood takes you, you are welcome to kiss me anywhere but my mouth or between my navel and my upper thighs. I will be touching you. I will be guiding you through a dance. I will be very close to you. If you would like to stop at any time, tap me on the shoulder and I will step away from you. Questions?”
Hellhound had removed the thong and was standing naked in front of his dressing mirror with a baby wipe losing his battle with the glitter that still clung to his skin. When the manager walked up, Hellhound turned to him and said annoyed, “If I can’t get this off I am going to have to go home and get in the shower. I told you glitter makes me break out in hives!” The manager said, “Cool your jets. I got something that will work.” He looked around and spotted the dancer he was looking for, “Ted, can I get some of your baby oil?” Hellhound looked at the manager, “That’s not going to work.” The manager caught the bottle of baby oil that was tossed at him by Ted, “Sure it will. This shit gets everything off.”
Ten minutes later and over a hundred wipes in the trashcan. “Look, I’m sorry. I thought it would work.” Hellhound still had glitter on him but he also had a layer of slippery oil and smelled like a newborn baby’s ass. Hellhound was not happy. “I think I am going to head home. I really need to shower before I start itching.” The manager stood in his way and said frantically, “No, no, no, no. You got a private number to do. Someone requested you after your ‘Sweatin’ with the Oldies’ song.” Hellhound looked really annoyed now. “And you’re just telling me this now?” The manager looked at him dismissively, “You distracted me with all the glitter whining. Anyway, Date Experience. Take her to room two.”
Hellhound walked his baby oil smelling self over to wardrobe and requested his Date Experience costume. This outfit consisted of a pair of loose black pants and a black bowtie. He took the costume over to his changing table and grabbed a regular towel. In a last-ditch effort, he used the towel roughly enough to cause his skin to redden in his attempt to now get the oil off. The last thing he wanted to leave his very first date experience client with oil stains all over her clothes. He did the very best he could to be oil free and when he couldn’t get anymore off, he sighed and tossed the towel in the laundry basket.
It took seconds for him to get ready and he made quite the show of coming off the stage and walking directly over to the table with his first client. “I believe someone requested a date,” he said with a sly smile on his lips as he offered his hand to help her out of her chair. He would walk with her as he had seen countless powerful men walk with their dates, showcasing her like her was the masterpiece. When they arrived in private room two, he opened the door for her and allowed her to enter first. The room was dim, cool, and smelled like air freshener. He stood back a little from her and explained his rules. “You are allowed to touch me. But only from the waist up. Touching between my navel to my upper thighs is not allowed. I do not kiss on the mouth. But, if the mood takes you, you are welcome to kiss me anywhere but my mouth or between my navel and my upper thighs. I will be touching you. I will be guiding you through a dance. I will be very close to you. If you would like to stop at any time, tap me on the shoulder and I will step away from you. Questions?”
Asher wasn’t entirely sure what to expect with something called a “Date Experience”, but the woman was curious, and sat patiently at her table as she sipped her drink. While she did, her sharp eyes also got a lay of the land, and a look at some of the people that were here. She was gonna have to take a look into this area when she got into work, which wasn’t for a few more days. Although, knowing herself, she would likely start as soon as she got back to the ship. Until then, she fully planned to enjoy herself.
She looked back at the stage, then spotted the sexy dancer headed her way. She smiled to herself as she saw just how…shiny and glittery he was, and managed to bite back a smile. She could also see the reddened pieces of his skin, and had to wager a guess at what happened, keeping the smirk clear of her face. At least until his voice reached that seductive level, and his hand was offered to her. Her mouth tilted into a grin then, and she took his hand as she stood. “In fact, someone did.” She was quite impressed with the way he was able to display her, reminding her of the days of king and court when pretty much everybody was displayed in some way, but none so much as the King’s Queen. The dancer beside her had been blessed with that ability.
When they got to the room, she entered first, still a little unsure what to expect. She turned to him as the door closed, and she understood that he was giving her a list of limits and rules. She waited for him to finish, scanning him to map him out as to not cross his rules, but ultimately shook her head. “No questions. Everything was clear.” She responded to him softly, nearly seductively as her eyes met his again, anticipation in them as she waited for the dance to begin.
She looked back at the stage, then spotted the sexy dancer headed her way. She smiled to herself as she saw just how…shiny and glittery he was, and managed to bite back a smile. She could also see the reddened pieces of his skin, and had to wager a guess at what happened, keeping the smirk clear of her face. At least until his voice reached that seductive level, and his hand was offered to her. Her mouth tilted into a grin then, and she took his hand as she stood. “In fact, someone did.” She was quite impressed with the way he was able to display her, reminding her of the days of king and court when pretty much everybody was displayed in some way, but none so much as the King’s Queen. The dancer beside her had been blessed with that ability.
When they got to the room, she entered first, still a little unsure what to expect. She turned to him as the door closed, and she understood that he was giving her a list of limits and rules. She waited for him to finish, scanning him to map him out as to not cross his rules, but ultimately shook her head. “No questions. Everything was clear.” She responded to him softly, nearly seductively as her eyes met his again, anticipation in them as she waited for the dance to begin.
His steel blue followed his client as she agreed to his rules. The dance he chose for her this evening was the Viennese Waltz. He reached out his hand, an indication that once she took it they would begin. Her hand was placed into his and his body starting to move with the smooth elegance he exhibited in his dances until he was a foot away. His grip on her hand tightened, taking control, and he pulled her towards him as he lifted one of her arms and spun her so when she hit his chest with her back. The music started then and as he moved suggestively behind her for a moment, letting his bare chest brush against her back as his groin caressed under the curve of her ass. This didn’t last long, a few measures of the music before he reached across her chest suddenly, his hand landing confidently just above her breast. He took one of her wrists in his firm grip and lifted her hand so he could lock his fingers with hers. He gave their fists a little shake to assure her that he had ahold her and he wasn’t going to let her fall. He then gently spun her away from his body and released her hand when he saw that her feet were firmly planted on the ground. Then, with a look of pure lust in his eyes, he moved swiftly to stand in front of her and took both her hands in his. When he touched her, his hands were dominating and controlling. He used subtle head gestures and taps of his fingers on her to let her know which direction they were going next.
He then moved them into the waltz. With their palms touching he guided their arms over her head as they glided smoothly together in large, graceful circles. After two circles he gripped her wrists in one of his hands, his arm cradling her at her shoulder blades as he dipped her backwards over his arm. He then pulled her up carefully by her wrists. But he didn’t pull her up all the way. Three-quarters of the way up, he let go of her wrists and moved his arm from behind her so he could catch her face with both his hands. He had also slid one of his legs between her legs so he could catch her should she not catch herself. With the passion of a lover, he pulled her forehead against his and looked deep into her eyes as if he was going to kiss her. He then removed his hands from her face and ran his hands down the sides of her body. Skillfully, as he was positioning himself in a perfect dancer’s pose, he had moved her arms as well so she too was in a perfect dancer’s pose with him.
He then moved them both back into the waltz. They made several large circles around the room as he led her with a gentle power. He then stopped after the fourth circle and he put his hands on her body again. His hands rested on her hips as he gave her a slow half spin. When her back was to him, his hands tightened on her torso, and he pulled her back into his chest. One of his hands seductively ran up her body between her breasts and gripped her chest above her breast again. He then grinded against the back of her, letting her feel his full package, which was aroused again, against the bottom of her ass. Just when his grinding against her would have registered he took one of her hands and spun her away from him. He then stepped up to her and they entered into the elegance of the waltz once more.
He danced her around the room, never missing a step, and making sure he projected his movements so she would know what was coming. He handled her with firm care. After several more large circles around the room he stopped and twirled her into his chest. His eyes were smoldering with desire as he pulled her against his chest. He leaned into her, his lips almost brushing hers as he lifted one of her hands to caress his cheek. He then moved before their lips could actually meet, spinning to stand behind her. His arm came around from behind her and his powerful hand rested on her stomach. His hand moved downward, like he was going to touch her sex, but he swept it away once it reached her bellybutton; his hand was now looking for one of her hands.
He then turned her to face him and put her back into her dancer’s pose. He then moved her through the room like they were floating. Several times, during these turns around the room, there were moments when he paused to spin her or reposition her, that their lips nearly touched. His expression showed desire, and his body was becoming aroused the more they danced together. Was this something more than either of them had bargained for or was he just performing? Towards the end of the dance, he lifted both her arms over her head and then wrapped them around his neck. One of his hands moved between her legs to spread them, not for anything sexual, but he needed to get closer to her. He wrapped one of his powerfully built arms around her middle and lifted her from the ground as he spun with her. He was so close to her; his lips did brush hers lightly, so she got the faintest taste of his lips.
Realizing she might be feeling his aroused organ too close to her sex and that his mouth had touched hers, he changed tactics. He finished the turn they were in and set her down. He spun her so her back was to him again. He pressed himself hard against her back as he leaned his face down. He touched the tip of his nose to her shoulder and ran it all the way up to her ear. The way a lover would run their tongue. As his nose reached her ear the song ended, and Hellhound released her and stepped away. Whenever she would turn to look at him, he would smile and offer her a professional bow.
He was a little out of breath after that. His chest rose and fell, showing his exertion during the dance. He asked curiously, “Was that enjoyable for you?” She was the first person for him to ever try this on.
He then moved them into the waltz. With their palms touching he guided their arms over her head as they glided smoothly together in large, graceful circles. After two circles he gripped her wrists in one of his hands, his arm cradling her at her shoulder blades as he dipped her backwards over his arm. He then pulled her up carefully by her wrists. But he didn’t pull her up all the way. Three-quarters of the way up, he let go of her wrists and moved his arm from behind her so he could catch her face with both his hands. He had also slid one of his legs between her legs so he could catch her should she not catch herself. With the passion of a lover, he pulled her forehead against his and looked deep into her eyes as if he was going to kiss her. He then removed his hands from her face and ran his hands down the sides of her body. Skillfully, as he was positioning himself in a perfect dancer’s pose, he had moved her arms as well so she too was in a perfect dancer’s pose with him.
He then moved them both back into the waltz. They made several large circles around the room as he led her with a gentle power. He then stopped after the fourth circle and he put his hands on her body again. His hands rested on her hips as he gave her a slow half spin. When her back was to him, his hands tightened on her torso, and he pulled her back into his chest. One of his hands seductively ran up her body between her breasts and gripped her chest above her breast again. He then grinded against the back of her, letting her feel his full package, which was aroused again, against the bottom of her ass. Just when his grinding against her would have registered he took one of her hands and spun her away from him. He then stepped up to her and they entered into the elegance of the waltz once more.
He danced her around the room, never missing a step, and making sure he projected his movements so she would know what was coming. He handled her with firm care. After several more large circles around the room he stopped and twirled her into his chest. His eyes were smoldering with desire as he pulled her against his chest. He leaned into her, his lips almost brushing hers as he lifted one of her hands to caress his cheek. He then moved before their lips could actually meet, spinning to stand behind her. His arm came around from behind her and his powerful hand rested on her stomach. His hand moved downward, like he was going to touch her sex, but he swept it away once it reached her bellybutton; his hand was now looking for one of her hands.
He then turned her to face him and put her back into her dancer’s pose. He then moved her through the room like they were floating. Several times, during these turns around the room, there were moments when he paused to spin her or reposition her, that their lips nearly touched. His expression showed desire, and his body was becoming aroused the more they danced together. Was this something more than either of them had bargained for or was he just performing? Towards the end of the dance, he lifted both her arms over her head and then wrapped them around his neck. One of his hands moved between her legs to spread them, not for anything sexual, but he needed to get closer to her. He wrapped one of his powerfully built arms around her middle and lifted her from the ground as he spun with her. He was so close to her; his lips did brush hers lightly, so she got the faintest taste of his lips.
Realizing she might be feeling his aroused organ too close to her sex and that his mouth had touched hers, he changed tactics. He finished the turn they were in and set her down. He spun her so her back was to him again. He pressed himself hard against her back as he leaned his face down. He touched the tip of his nose to her shoulder and ran it all the way up to her ear. The way a lover would run their tongue. As his nose reached her ear the song ended, and Hellhound released her and stepped away. Whenever she would turn to look at him, he would smile and offer her a professional bow.
He was a little out of breath after that. His chest rose and fell, showing his exertion during the dance. He asked curiously, “Was that enjoyable for you?” She was the first person for him to ever try this on.
If someone had told Asher that she would one day willingly pay for and enjoy a lap dance, she would have laughed. However, this wasn’t a lap dance. No, from the start of this dance, the first moment of contact when she took his hand, this was art and seduction wrapped together in a way she hadn’t to experience.
This dancer, it quickly became clear, was an expert at his craft, and Asher herself was no stranger to a dance. He was a very strong leader, but Asher’s body moved with his as elegantly as he was with her. Her hands did touch him, exploring him gently as allowed but they also seemed instructed when they needed to come back to his for another part of the dance. She felt the heat of his body under her hands and against her body, realizing he was hotter than a normal human. She smiled when she realized it and as she looked up at him, and when they weren’t in his, allowed her fingers touch that heat.
As he spun her out, her feet landed softly but perfectly, and when he came with a look of pure burning lust, Asher took his hands to begin the waltz. This was executed perfectly, but with a level of power and lust that her body reacted too. After two circles when he dipped her, without thinking, her leg slid up his to his waist, pressing them together for just a moment. Her leg started to slide back down as he brought her up, but three-quarters of the way up, he let her wrists go, and slid his leg between hers. She gasped lightly in delighted reaction when he took her face, and brought their faces together. She knew it wasn’t to be a kiss, but she let the tease of it move through them both.
While his hands moved down her sides, hers slid gracefully, and feather light seductively over his neck and chest before she found his once more to continue the waltz. Again, this part was elegant, as both seemed to know what they were doing. Asher was still reading his subtle communications, of course, but she would admit she had never been so aroused by the waltz before. On the fourth spin, he stopped her again as she felt his hands on her body once more, lightly moving her body. She pressed her back against his chest as they moved together. She barely registered the grinding, but it was just enough to make her move once against him before he spun her again. He was absolutely delightful, she thought as she took his hands once more to continue the dance.
To call it a dance may have been too simple. It was powerful, elegant, and beautifully arousing. Each time she was twirled into his chest, each almost kiss, her heart would race. When he pulled her in, and moved to put her hand on his face, she caressed his cheek gently, tilting her head as if ready to receive his kiss before she was spun out to continue once more. As they continued their waltz, her body grew more aroused, and it bloomed pleasantly from the pit of her stomach, and reached out to the tips of her fingertips. Nearing the end of their time, when he moved Asher’s hands up and around his neck, she felt his powerful arms around her to bring her closer, and his leg slid between hers once more. It was momentary before Asher felt her body lifted and spun, the moment putting them closer than either had expected. Her hands grew more intimate on his skin without thought as Asher caught a small taste of him as their lips actually did brush, and a better feel of him between her legs as they spun.
Realizing this may be against his rules, but unsure who may have started it, she readjusted slightly as they finished the spin, and together, they elegantly spun her so her back was in his chest once more. Her head tilted, and she was barely able to contain the small breath that worked through her chest as his nose ran so seductively up her neck and to her ear. Her neck was her weak spot, so she couldn’t quite stop the small shiver that worked through her just before he stepped away. When he did, Asher had to admit even she needed to take a breath after that performance.
When she turned to him, she grinned at him as he bowed. She clapped a little bit, and bowed back to him. “That was magnificent. I have waltzed many times, but never quite like that.” She told him, as she straightened up to look at him before she started to move towards the door. She paused for a moment to look at him and add; “Keep that up, and I will definitely be back for more.”
This dancer, it quickly became clear, was an expert at his craft, and Asher herself was no stranger to a dance. He was a very strong leader, but Asher’s body moved with his as elegantly as he was with her. Her hands did touch him, exploring him gently as allowed but they also seemed instructed when they needed to come back to his for another part of the dance. She felt the heat of his body under her hands and against her body, realizing he was hotter than a normal human. She smiled when she realized it and as she looked up at him, and when they weren’t in his, allowed her fingers touch that heat.
As he spun her out, her feet landed softly but perfectly, and when he came with a look of pure burning lust, Asher took his hands to begin the waltz. This was executed perfectly, but with a level of power and lust that her body reacted too. After two circles when he dipped her, without thinking, her leg slid up his to his waist, pressing them together for just a moment. Her leg started to slide back down as he brought her up, but three-quarters of the way up, he let her wrists go, and slid his leg between hers. She gasped lightly in delighted reaction when he took her face, and brought their faces together. She knew it wasn’t to be a kiss, but she let the tease of it move through them both.
While his hands moved down her sides, hers slid gracefully, and feather light seductively over his neck and chest before she found his once more to continue the waltz. Again, this part was elegant, as both seemed to know what they were doing. Asher was still reading his subtle communications, of course, but she would admit she had never been so aroused by the waltz before. On the fourth spin, he stopped her again as she felt his hands on her body once more, lightly moving her body. She pressed her back against his chest as they moved together. She barely registered the grinding, but it was just enough to make her move once against him before he spun her again. He was absolutely delightful, she thought as she took his hands once more to continue the dance.
To call it a dance may have been too simple. It was powerful, elegant, and beautifully arousing. Each time she was twirled into his chest, each almost kiss, her heart would race. When he pulled her in, and moved to put her hand on his face, she caressed his cheek gently, tilting her head as if ready to receive his kiss before she was spun out to continue once more. As they continued their waltz, her body grew more aroused, and it bloomed pleasantly from the pit of her stomach, and reached out to the tips of her fingertips. Nearing the end of their time, when he moved Asher’s hands up and around his neck, she felt his powerful arms around her to bring her closer, and his leg slid between hers once more. It was momentary before Asher felt her body lifted and spun, the moment putting them closer than either had expected. Her hands grew more intimate on his skin without thought as Asher caught a small taste of him as their lips actually did brush, and a better feel of him between her legs as they spun.
Realizing this may be against his rules, but unsure who may have started it, she readjusted slightly as they finished the spin, and together, they elegantly spun her so her back was in his chest once more. Her head tilted, and she was barely able to contain the small breath that worked through her chest as his nose ran so seductively up her neck and to her ear. Her neck was her weak spot, so she couldn’t quite stop the small shiver that worked through her just before he stepped away. When he did, Asher had to admit even she needed to take a breath after that performance.
When she turned to him, she grinned at him as he bowed. She clapped a little bit, and bowed back to him. “That was magnificent. I have waltzed many times, but never quite like that.” She told him, as she straightened up to look at him before she started to move towards the door. She paused for a moment to look at him and add; “Keep that up, and I will definitely be back for more.”
Hellhound was thrilled that his first private dance, a date experience at that, had gone so well. It let him know he was on the right path with romantic gestures, rather than just grinding. He had been extremely worried that people would understand the intimacy of a slow dance and would only want him to act like a typical stripper and shake his goodies. When she headed to the door, he quickly joined her. “The experience isn’t officially over until you are back in your seat.” He opened the door to private room two and offered her his hand to escort her politely back to her table. Once she was sitting, Hellhound headed to the bar and let the bartender know she had just finished with a private ‘date experience’ date. Hellhound had worked out something with the bartender beforehand, so the bartender knew exactly what Hellhound was asking for. A few minutes later, Hellhound headed back to Asher’s table and placed a chilled glass of champagne with a raspberry floating in it on the table before her. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” He said sweetly before wading through the tables and heading backstage to the dressing rooms.
The manager was waiting on pins and needles. “Well?!” he asked impatiently. “How did it go? Did you thrill her? Did she want more? Will she come back?” Hellhound was still a bit pissed about the baby oil and glitter. “She’s right out there. Go ask her yourself. In my opinion, it went great, but it’s her opinion that matters.” The manager nervously headed out to see if he could get a review out of Hellhound’s private dance partner. Hellhound stripped and headed to the costume director. “Do you know what I am doing next?” The costume director checked the list and handed him a Viking costume. Hellhound nodded know the next dance would be another solo dance. He headed back to his changing station and checked where they were in the show. There were still five other dancers to perform before it would be his turn. He grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it down. He then took a seat and relaxed before his next time on stage.
The manager was waiting on pins and needles. “Well?!” he asked impatiently. “How did it go? Did you thrill her? Did she want more? Will she come back?” Hellhound was still a bit pissed about the baby oil and glitter. “She’s right out there. Go ask her yourself. In my opinion, it went great, but it’s her opinion that matters.” The manager nervously headed out to see if he could get a review out of Hellhound’s private dance partner. Hellhound stripped and headed to the costume director. “Do you know what I am doing next?” The costume director checked the list and handed him a Viking costume. Hellhound nodded know the next dance would be another solo dance. He headed back to his changing station and checked where they were in the show. There were still five other dancers to perform before it would be his turn. He grabbed a bottle of water and chugged it down. He then took a seat and relaxed before his next time on stage.