Kept Woman

((OOC: This thread is closed to myself and Vagrant))

The lights in the club were dark, most of the brighter ones focused on the stage, with it's three platforms that extended out into the crowd. Music with a throbbing base line echoed through the place, and most of the tables were occupied with patrons. Colored lights pulsed as three women, all blonds, moved to the beat, each at the end of a platform.

The door of the club opened while the women crawled and shimmied along the platforms, collecting tips in their thongs, but most people didn't notice. Dark sunglasses hid most of her face, and her hair was hidden under a black baseball hat. A pair of faded jeans and sweater completed the ensemble as she moved immediately through the club and into the back.

Half an hour later and she was dressed in a school girl outfit, long flame colored hair pulled into two high pigtails atop her head. Her plaid skirt was pink and purple, her white button up shirt was tied in front, just below her breasts, giving a glimpse of the tops of her bra cups, which were pink just like her skirt. Knee high lacy white socks disappeared into a pair of 4 inch heeled loafers.

The skirt was short, dancing and flirting around the tops of her pale thighs. Popping a lollipop between two full red lips, she settled a pair of thick black framed glasses onto her nose and moved to stand in the shadows of the stage, backstage, waiting for her turn.

She wasn't by any means a headliner, having just started working there a few months prior, but her body was both deliciously curvy and delicate, with nice wide hips, a slender waist, flat stomach, and full, perky breasts. All of this was completed by a sweet, innocent looking face. She could have almost looked completely innocent, were it not for the risque clothing.

"Ready to go?" the stage manager asked her, and she nodded with a soft, somewhat nervous smile. After a few minutes, the girls who were on stage left and the stage was cleared for a few moments before the announcer came on.

"Don't you just wish you could be her lollipop?" the booming voice of the announcer said over the speaker, and the song "Lollipop" by Aqua came on. Soon, she was half-bouncing, half dancing onto the stage to the whistles and jeers of those in the crowd, playing sweet and innocent while at the same time, managing to flash them pink panties and show off plenty of legs and cleavage.

Shortly before the Naughty Schoolgirl came out onto the stage another shadowy figure walked into the club. He wasn't a regular, and yet the manager knew him. Not to say that the man was happy to see an old friend. Quite the opposite in fact. This new arrival was not a friend and had the manager been crazy enough, or with the right connections, he might have been asked to leave. But the manager wasn't crazy, and he didn't have the right connections, and so Nathan wasn't asked to leave. Nervous, the manager walked over and asked him if he could get him a drink personally. Fear was written all over his face.

Nathan gave his drink order, whiskey, straight, and the cowardly man scurried away. Nathan was tall, about six foot three, and the way he dressed showed he came from money. That in and of itself was rare in this part of the city, but only the very stupid would dare try to mug him for his watch or pocket change. Those that did had a habit of being dead shortly after.

He took off his hat and set it ont he chair beside him as he relaxed and prepared to watch the show. When the schoolgirl came on stage his interest was piqued. Something about her made him want her. Of course he knew someone would object, whether it was her boss or herself. But that made him want her all the more. Being told he couldn't have something he wanted was a sure way to make sure that he would get it in the end. Even if he had to do some.... unscrupulous things.

As the manager set his drink on the table infront of him, he smiled though the show of emotion never touched his eyes. "I want her. Make it happen. I don't care what you have to do. I want her."

Leira wasn't even done getting her top off when her eye caught the subtle flash at the back of the room, near one of the high rollers tables. Her movements didn't stop, but she knew what that little flash of light meant... someone had just requested her presence after the dance. A glance at the manager was all it took to show that she'd seen the flash, and then she went back to her movements, eventually stripping down to the pink thong panties and bra, still in her lacy socks and heels.

The crowd seemed somewhat disappointed by the lack of showing her breasts, but Leira had put on enough of a show that they were still happy enough to tip big. After all, her cute face and "innocent" dancing had just added fuel to nearly every daddy complex in the crowd. Leaving the stage, she went back stage long enough to tie her shirt back in place and put her skirt back on.

Not long after, she was meeting with the manager in the hallway that lead out into the main part of the club. "Whatever you do, Leira, you've got to make this guy happy... no matter what he asks. Believe me, if you don't... it wont do well for either of us, and I don't really mean our jobs." The manager looked nervous, and Leira frowned. She rarely, if ever, was asked to do private shows or to sit and have a drink with the customers, but she didn't complain. She'd been told the private dances pay the most.

Nodding some, she moved through the club, back to the VIP section before she came to halt in front of the table the manager had told her to go to. Flashing him an innocent smile, she kept on that school girl innocence as she slid into the chair beside him. "And how are you tonight, handsome?"

"Better, now that I have some company. Why don't you join me for a drink before we head to the back? Whatever you want. On me."

He flagged a waitress over, and the topless top heavy woman sauntered over to take her order. Once she was gone, he looked at her again. "So, what is your name?" After she answered him, either giving her stage name or real one, he didn't care, he gave her his. "I'm Nathan."

The waitress came back with whatever she had ordered and set the drink on the table infront of her. "I'm just curious about something. Do you know who I am?" The answer to that question was also the answer to why is the manager so scared of him. The answer was that he was one of the biggest crime lords in the city. There wasn't much that he didn't get involved in. And there weren't too many lines he would cross to get revenge on someone who had wronged him.

After she ordered a coke, the redhead turned mismatched eyes back to look at him, pulling her stage glasses off to get a better look at him through one blue and one green eye. He asked for her name and her lips tilted up at the corner. "Peaches," she introduced, using her stage name, as giving out personal names was strictly against club policy... much like drinking, which was the reason for ordering a soda instead of anything with alcohol in it.

"It's lovely to meet you, Nathan," she said with a smile, wondering idly if he was looking for a drink and conversation, or a private dance. She didn't mind either way, and honestly, part of her was hoping he'd opt for the drink and talking... part of her was nervous about dancing for him, though she wasn't sure why. He was imposing without ever seeming overtly threatening, and that made her somewhat nervous about him.

Letting her eyes dance over him, she smiled again. "I'm afraid my manager didn't tell me anything about you... just that I was supposed to make sure you were taken care of tonight."

She wasn't breaking any rules, but he knew she would be in time. How did he know that? He wanted her to. She'd learn that she could get away with almost anything so long as it was known that she was his. Which she wasn't yet. But it was only a matter of time.

"Peaches... are you sweet and juicy like peaches are?" He asked her with a grin. Unlike with her boss, this was a real smile, so there wasn't anything menacing about it.

He took a drink of his whiskey and noticed that she was just about done her coke. "Finish that up and lets go to the back for a little privacy. Shall we?" His tone and phrasing suggested that he wasn't actually asking her if that was ok. They were going to the back and he was simply giving her the opportunity to say yes. No wasn't an option.

Finishing up her drink, Leira set aside her empty glass before standing, being sure to make every movement slow and smooth, letting her legs stretch and extend, showing off her long lines and soft curves. She waited for him to stand as well and winked, sliding her soft, delicately formed hand into his own before beginning to lead him away from the VIP tables and toward the entrance to the private rooms.

"Sweet, juicy, and soft like a peach," she said over her shoulder as she walked, her hips swaying with each step. She noticed as they walked that some were looking away from the stage, looking at her as she lead her client toward the back. Some looks were envious, their eyes raking over her body slowly, practically salivating as they took in her full curves and delicate form. Others, meanwhile, seemed to focus more on him and she saw looks of shock on their faces at the sight of who she was with. More than one person looked away nervously.

She arched a brow, but shook her head and eventually lead him through a short hallway to a private room, opening the door for him and flipping a switch outside the door to show the room was in use so they wouldn't be disturbed except for the bouncers if the need arose.

Once he was settled into the thick plush seat of the booth-like table, she gave him a sweet smile. "Pick your poison, handsome... lap dance, just a private dance on the table?"

Unbeknownst to Leira, the Manager tod the bouncers not to interrupt if things got out of hand. Instead they were to simply call an ambulance if the need arose after her client left. They didn't like the situation at all, but knew better than to do anything else but follow orders.

Inside, Nathan smiled at her. "How about we start with a lap dance, and see where it goes, hmmm?" The rules in the private rooms were more lax than out on the floor, but there were still rules. Nathan wasn't planning on pushing the envelope much this first night. Later would be another story.

He leaned back on the plush couch and let her do her thing.

Moving over to a small computerized sound system, Leira flipped through the songs for a moment before coming to "School's Out". Grinning, her back still to him, she began to move her hips to the music. Each movement was carefully orchestrated to show off her shapely hips and long legs.

By the time the singing began, she'd moved her way back over to him, her arms over her head, curled some there as she began to move her hips as if she was trying to grind against the air. Her hands unknotted the top of her shirt, exposing the lacy pink bra that barely restrained her full breasts. All the while her hips were moving to the beat the guitar was creating, and she turned her back to him, standing so close she was straddling his legs as they came off the seat.

She removed the shirt and dropped it to the side, bending at the waist, legs slightly apart, her skirt inching up to give him a glimpse of the pink thong she wore beneath the skirt. As she stood straight again, her knees bent and positioned her ass just above his lap, less than an inch from brushing against him. Shifting quickly, he'd find her kneeling with a knee on either side of his thigh, her hips still moving above him, breasts well within reach for him to bow his head and touch them with his mouth.

After a few moments, she slowly climbed to her feet, perching on the booth's seat, her feet on either side of his thighs as she reached back to unzip the zipper that ran the length of the skirt, from waist to hem. The skirt fell away, caught by one hand as she crouched again, still moving, one hand holding the booth behind him to steady herself, and the other bringing the strip of fabric the skirt consisted of up to run it over his chest and neck, looping it around to hang around his shoulders like a scarf.

"Want to see more, handsome?" she said in a voice that was thick and soft, giving the sound that she was getting turned on from dancing for him. Was she? It would be hard to tell, she was a convincing actress after all... it was her job.

While she moved around onhis lap and on the chair, his hands caressed whatever body part that presented itself to his easy reach. When she pushed her breasts close to his face he didn't take advantage of that, however. Instead he would wait until she wasn't wearing a bra.

When she asked him if he wanted to see more, his response was of course in the affirmative. "I want to see everything, Baby. Show me all you've got. I'll make it very worth your while." She had no idea how much of a tip he was going to leave, but he had a feeling it would blow her away when she saw it.

Customers weren't supposed to touch... but his fingers were light against her skin, and he never let himself get out of control. She couldn't stop the goosebumps that rose on her skin at his light caresses, or the blush that colored her cheeks when he said he wanted to see it all. Well... he wouldn't see everything, no matter how much he wanted to... that was against the rules. Topless though, she could do that.

She shifted then, pushing back from him, her heeled feet coming to rest on the floor. Turning her back to him again, she positioned herself to stand between his legs, hips still moving to the newest song on the stereo system as her hand reached back and easily unsnapped her bra strap. It popped open, hanging loosely from her shoulders as she shrugged the pink fabric straps off and let them slide down her arms to her hands.

She dropped the bra to the side and brought both hands up, using them to cover her nipples as she turned back to face him. Crawling back to straddle his lap, she flashed him a naughty smile and began to move her hips above his, pretending to grind against him though only their thighs touched, the insides of hers rubbing against the outsides of his. Her hands were still covering her breasts as she leaned in and whispered into his ear.

"How much do you want to see more?"

Normally he would like her teasing him, when she was his and was doing it to sweeten the eventual fucking he would give her. But she wasn't his yet and he knew she was just teasing to get more money. She'd get her money, but he would get what he wanted from her.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her hands away from her tits. "Enough to make sure I see it, whether you want to show it to me or not." No matter what she did, he wasn't going to let go of her arms. No matter how much she squired, she wouldn't break free and doing so would just make her breasts jiggle all the more enticingly.

Her screams wouldn't, as she probably hoped, bring a bouncer in to throw this bastard out the door. She was alone and help wasn't coming.

He pulled her closer so that he could take as much of her breasts into his mouth as he could. He licked at the titflesh before him, occassionally biting her hard enough to leave red teeth marks but not break the skin, and sometimes suck on her nipples.

Leira gasped when his hands grabbed her arms, her eyes going wide. Her skin was tender enough, and her arms delicately formed enough, that he would no doubt leave behind pressure marks when he let go... it would take an hour or two at least for them to fade. She pulled against him, trying to break free, even trying to get up off his lap, but his teeth were on her breasts.

"Stop it! Hands off!" she cried, but he still didn't stop. His lips encircled one delicate pink nipple and she screamed, despite the fact that his tongue was bringing the peak to a hard little point. "I said stop!"

The bouncers didn't come busting through the door like they were supposed to... The door remained closed, the room remained quiet except for the music and the sounds of her struggling against him. Her knees braced against the seat he sat on and pushed as she tried to pull back and away from him.

"Help!" she cried again, but again nothing came. She even tried screaming the bouncer's names, but still he wasn't letting go and the door wasn't being thrown open. Tears were gathering in her eyes, her breasts sore from all the biting he'd done, rings of impressions where his teeth had been all over her porcelain skin.

He took his mouth off of her tit, a rope of saliva connecting his lip to where he had just been. "Stop that. Now you know that I take what I want, when I want it. I'm not someone you want to fuck with. That's why your boss isn't barging in here to throw me out or call the cops. He know that if he does that, he's dead. But not before he watches his precious strip club burn down. Whether there are people inside... whether he is inside... well that's up in the air. So just shut up and enjoy yourself cause there isn't anything you can do to stop me."

He threw her down on the couch and climbed on top of her. Holding both her wrists in one hand, he tore off her thong with the other. "Such a sweet pussy. I can't wait to fuck it." He let that stew for awhile as he fingered her and went back to her tits, occassionally giving her a wet sloppy kiss, enjoying the look of disgust and fear in her eyes and the way she moved underneath him.

Leira cried out as he shoved her down onto the couch. Tears built in her eyes, fear clawing at her. His words were harsh and did what they were intended to do... they frightened her badly enough that she found that she wasn't screaming for help anymore. Instead, her noises had quieted down to whimpers and grunts of effort as she kicked and tried to get away.

Her lithe body was moving, throwing all her weight behind her struggles, but still she couldn't break free of him. Tears still sliding down her cheeks, she looked up at him and shook her head, her voice pleading. "Stop... please, please stop..." sobs left her as she squirmed on the bench, only to have him pin her wrists above her head with one hand and rip her thong off with the other.

A cry of pain left her as she fabric was stretched taught against her skin before it finally gave way, the thin straps snapping and exposing her tight, smooth shaven pussy to him. "No..." she managed to whimper, only to have him shoving his fingers inside of her, fingering her as his mouth returned to her breasts.

Occasionally, he'd break suction on her breasts and lift his head to kiss at her face. Always she tried to turn her face away, still crying out, still struggling, her pussy now sore from the attention of his fingers. She was tight around him... almost impossibly so, showing she didn't have sex often, and all the exersize she seemed to get from her job kept her muscles firm and tight. "You're hurting me!"

He knew that any pain he was causing her was temporary. It wasn't like he was going to scar her body for life by pumping his fingers into her pussy or biting on ther tits. "Oh calm down, you'll live."

He had his fill of her and then let her arms go, getting off the couch and wiping off his mouth and fingers on her discarded shirt. He straightened his clothes and then pulled out his wallet. He didn't check to see if she was watching, as he counted out a grand, in twenty dollar bills, and set the wad of cash in her bra. "I had a blast. I'll be back for more in a day or two... I'm sure you'll be waiting for me."

All she could do was lay there, closing her legs and crossing her arms over her chest as she listened to him as he told her he'd had a good time and he'd be back for more. The words almost seemed ominous, despite the fact that the tone wasn't all that threatening. Coming back for more meant he'd probably take it even further next time... and if today was any indication... her screams would go unheard again.

As soon as he was out of the door, she sat up and wiped the tears from her cheeks, though they continued to fall. Her makeup was ruined, eyeliner and mascara all over her porcelain cheeks. With trembling hands, she grabbed her skirt and pulled it on, tugging it down as low as she could get it, since she no longer had the thong to cover her sex with.

The bra came next, but she just dropped the money on the couch for now. She'd count it later, though the very thought of keeping it disgusted her... he'd paid to rape her... what kind of monster does that? Instead of tieing the shirt closed, she buttoned it up and tucked it into her shirt, not wanting as much of her body exposed anymore.

Finally, she sat and counted out the money, her eyes wide by the end of it. Tucking it into her bra and out of sight, she gathered herself as best she could and made for the hallway. Her body was shaky as she walked right by the bouncers in the hall, who both looked away guiltily. They'd heard her screams... she knew they had.

Before she could run into the manager, she ducked into the dressing room and went right to her small vanity. The room was oddly quiet, the women that were there not speaking much. They knew what had happened... they pitied her, but they didn't dare say it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Less than an hour later, her face was clean(though her eyes were still red from crying) and she was back in her street clothes... several hours ahead of schedule. Leaving the dressing room, she had a duffel bag full of her clothes and makeup.. everything on her vanity was gone. Truth be told, she had every intention of quitting, after what they'd allowed to happen to her.

Her conversation with the manager was held in his private office, the sound proofed walls ensuring no one could hear her yelling and screaming at him, crying hysterically over what had happened... what he'd let happen. She told him she was quitting, and he begged her not to leave.

By the end of the conversation, she left the place after agreeing to show up, but the deal was that he was giving her until that night off, to recover from what had happened. What changed her mind? Well... being told that you'd have others injuries, if not their lives, on your conscience... tends to make one reconsider.

Nathan waited outside the club in his car until she came out. When he saw her rather than make his presence known he ordered one of his men to follow her. He wasn't one to leave things to chance, and waiting to see her at the strip club again was a risk he was not willing to take. Not that he was going to grab her at home or anything, but the possibility made him feel better about letting her go for the moment.

It was a couple days later before he returned to the club and he quickly flagged the manager down as he made his way to the VIP area. "You know who I want. Make it happen. Now."

He sat back and watched the girl that was presently on stage while he waited for Peaches to arrive. He didn't know her real name yet, because he didn't know exactly where she lived, just what building, but at the same time, he liked the name Peaches. It was a stripper's name, and that made him smile.

"If I could do anything to stop this, I would," the manager of the strip club said, his voice pleading. He was looking down at the unforgiving and accusing eyes of one of his newest dancers. She had, unfortunately, seemed to grab the interest of one of their most powerful and most dangerous clientele... and he was not a man to be rejected lightly, if at all.

"I don't understand why we can't just call the cops and have him escorted out of here." She was staring into the mirror of her vanity at his reflection, even as she smoothed lip gloss over her full, pouty lips.

"It wouldn't make a difference. He's got too many connections, too much influence. Hell, the guy's running most of the city! The cops are in his pocket, and so are most of the political figures. He'd burn down the club and I don't even want to think about what he'd do to you if he got ahold of you... and he would." The fact that he sounded like he was speaking from experience sent a chill through Leira's body, but she sighed and just nodded solemnly. For now, at least, there was nothing she could do.

Let him rape her... or let him hurt her and everyone else at the club by destroying their livelihoods and possibly killing them because he'd already said he wouldn't hesitate to set the place on fire. And if he really did have the power her boss said he did... figuring out where she was wouldn't be difficult, even if she went to the police.

Standing, she moved out of the dressing room and into the VIP area. She wasn't wearing her school girl uniform this time... Instead, she was dressed in a purple miniskirt, fishnet thigh highs, four inch heels, and a black leather vest that zipped up the front, decorated with purple swirls and roses decorating it. Her hair was worn up in a twist, secured in place by a pair of black hair sticks.

Her eyes landed on him and she had to fight the urge to run the other way. She didn't want to be here... shouldn't be here. Not with him. Not after what he'd done. But a glance at her manager's pleading face forced her to steel herself against what was to come and walk over. Just because she joined him though, didn't mean she was going to be nice about it.

Sitting down across from him, she was careful to stay out of reach and her eyes were less than friendly as she looked at him. "I'm surprised you have the nerve to come back here, after what you did."

"If what I did is so wrong, why didn't the police come pick me up? Or the bouncers throw me out?" He smiled at her. Like before, his smile looked genuine. He wasn't trying to scare her, or torment her with the fact that nobody would stop him from hurting her.

"I'm sorry you didn't enjoy our last encounter. I hope the money that I left made up for that in some small way? If it matters, I'll be giving you just as much tonight. Even if we only sit here drinking for the evening. Though, to be honest, I'd much prefer we go to the back and have some fun. Or at the very least you come sit on my lap and let me feel you up." Yes, that was very much against the rules, but he had already established that he didn't care.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out another wad of bills, setting it on the table top. If she counted it, she would find that it was once again $1000.

"Unfortunately for the rest of us, some people are too easily influenced by money... something you seem to have no shortage of." She didn't comment on whether or not his money had made a difference in how her night had gone after their last meeting, but just watched him, her eyes wary and unsure. He put another wad of cash on the table, but for now she didn't touch it.

"I don't suppose if I turn down your money this time, you'll let me walk away and never bother me again?" She knew it was a selfish thing to ask... there were other girls he'd likely sink his teeth into if he did let her walk away... and she wouldn't wish the terror he'd put her through on anyone else, least of all some of the women here... many of them had become her friends.

She sighed, but didn't wait for an answer. She knew what it would be, and so she just scooped up the money he'd put on the table and tucked it into a small, inconspicuous pocket in the vest she wore. "And if I'd rather stay out here, and not in your lap?"

"Well, my business interests are quite.... lucrative." He smiled at her charmingly. Any onlooker in the club, if they didn't know who he was, would think that he was simply trying to impress the girl at the table with him.

He watched as she took his money after asking her question about whether or not he would let her go if she refused his money. "To answer your question, I am a man that always gets what I want. Now, that doesn't mean I always take it by force... As you've noticed, money is not a concern for me, and as such I am quite willing to spend it to lavish it upon those close to me. I could definitely make it worth your while."

He leaned back n his chair and watched her for a moment. "Then by all means stay there. I think I've made my point already anyway. Your company is what I came here for, and whether you are there, here or in a back room, your company is what I have."

Leira wanted to slap the smug look off his face. He had no right to treat people like this... but here he was acting like he owned her. Like somehow handing her all the money he had would be enough to make up for what he'd done... what he was still doing. You didn't have to physically hurt someone to do damage, after all... The knowledge that she wasn't ever going to be safe from him unless he tired of her and decided to get his entertainment elsewhere was as damaging as a backhanded slap could be.

She made it a point to keep a distance between them, even doing her best to make sure that when she reached out for her drink, she never reached far enough across the table to let him touch her, even if it was only going to be a brush of his fingers. The thought made her skin crawl and she shook her head, looking away.

"Unlike some, your money doesn't matter to me. I was making it by just fine before you came along, I can continue to do so without your help. Wouldn't you rather have the company of someone who actually wants to be around you?" Her eyes were full of loathing. No amount of money could make her forget what he'd done to her... what he'd implied he'd do again, as often as he liked...