Buggered Mind of Neale Sourna, The

Opines, comments, rants, concerns, imaginings from Neale Sourna, fiction author and more -- www.Neale-Sourna.com, www.PIE-Percept.com, www.ProjectKeanu.com, www.AuthorsDen.com/nealesourna, www.CafeShops.com/NealeSourna, www.Writing-Naked.com, & www.CuntSinger.com

Saturday, February 16, 2013

SHORT STORY, Romantic Erotica: Neale Sourna's Dez at the Silver Pole

Dez at the Silver Pole_ebook cover
03_Silver Pole  READ excerpt
Dez is a willful, stubborn hottie, the bisexual top stripper and erotic dancer [exotic dancer] at Max’s club; independent to the bone, she won’t be controlled.

But, enter Mr. Dark, a powerful, dangerous, wealthy player, a corporate gangsta with an eye only for sexy Ms. Dez.

He’s certain he can teach this free girl a few things.
In lust and love, what is “control,” what is “danger,” when two headstrong people are in conflict over their mutual desires, at the foot of a stripper’s silver pole.
_9587 words Erotic Romance
stripper, exotic dancer, bisexual, lesbian, love, heterosexual, forced sex, coerced sex, domination, control

Silver Pole [excerpt]

...G'd left for a last minute upscale, bachelor party, when Max, I - Am - An - Ass - And - Completely - Spineless - Around - Mr. - High - and - Mighty - Dark, said Dark had finally "requested" I dance for him. Yes, Max made finger quotes.

I'd asked Ginger once if she liked dancing for Dark. She giggled. Remember, with G, giggling means me…or money. Translation, she doesn't like men but she'd even fuck him, since he pays well. He'd better because I can charge more than the others. I get the patrons to come inside, and bring their friends, and I keep them all there longer and cumming right here in my hot, little hand.

I really considered not dancing for that imperiously bossy snot though.

But, maybe I'm stupid, because Dark's sudden interest in a private dance, after ignoring me, except for my general dances and to taunt me, had me a smidge…intrigued.

Well, actually, more than a smidge.

* * * *

He didn't want me on his lap, so I and my delicate, gold Egyptian bracelets gyrated and twisted, and displayed and fingered and shook my more obvious assets from a distance.

He seemed pleased, while Shadow [his huge bodyguard] looked on. Minutes later, Shadow put down lots of Mr. Franklins. I guess, his boss didn't want to get his hands dirty. I was reaching for the loot.


"They're your Bennies," I said.

This close to him, this long, it was starting to get to me that he never looks at me like anyone else does. Not like his Shadow, who was trying hard not to look at me. I know when a man's looking at me, and Shadow'd lost the battle. The hard proof being the growing precum stain, from his stiff billy club in his pants, that he tried to modestly shift to a more comfortable position.

Unless, of course, he had a big thing, for his boss.

"Come here."

The sahib indicated I may now approach, and buff his lap, which I did thoroughly. The song ended. Shadow piled on the Poor Richards.

"Again." Greedy bastard.

He peeled off his long, stylish jacket. A little warm, I guess. Y'know, others want lots of dances, too, but they don't have the cash or credit, or they're afraid they'll cum their slacks. Dark seemed to be holding his cream but his trousers were becoming less slack the more I rode his very expensive imported, custom tailored fabric.

Then, he touched me.
"No touching!"

I'd dismounted so fast, I don't think he'd expected it. The look on his face said touching me was no overinfatuated mistake. As they always say.

Tiny Natalie'd had some queer lick her ass just yesterday.

Totally creepzoid.

We do a lot. But, it's a service, a special service, and it has its limits. Let's face it; we're vulnerable--naked, outweighed, unarmed, with help far enough away that we could get seriously damaged or dead before the bouncers get to us.

So, touching me...us is very much breaking the law. And, my law.

Most people still like to think we're wearing pasties or nude plastic or Sally Rand feathers, "if these kinds of places must exist," they say. But, no, the law says nude's--fine, opening my legs--fine, touching myself or another performer's anything is--fine, but…customers touching us...me is forbidden. As I rub my body against theirs.

I'm on…I am that thin, fragile line between voyeurism and participation, stripping (Since I'm naked, I strip your mind, not my clothes.--Good, huhn?) and prostitution.

"Dez, it was just your waist I touched."

"It doesn't matter, Dark. You touch nothing."

"All right. I'll behave. Finish. Please?"

I didn't like the look in his eyes, I couldn't read it, and, the pit of my stomach churned. Never a good sign.

"If you want more, Dez.... A penalty fee?"
Where was Shadow pulling those bills from?

He never put his hand in a pocket, no bill fold or wad seemed to be in his huge hand, and then Blam! He put down ten of them this time, for his master; fanned so I could count.

"You're not stupid, Dez, you know I like you. I just momentarily forgot proper decorum."

"Bullshit." He smiled at my anger, which pissed me good.

"Okay. One last dance. You get paid, and I'll go. I'll never come back here to Max', unless you give me permission."

I had to think about that one. The money was better than great, and there'd be more, he always pays, even if he only watches for thirty seconds. And, then his royal pain in my ass would leave...he could dry hump himself.

I wished he'd stop looking like he knew exactly what I was thinking, which, of course, I knew he did.

So, I Salome'd again, and he asked me to straddle him, which is not unusual, especially from a high-paying client. I mounted him and his eyes held mine for a long time, his prodigious bulge between my legs, throbbing deliciously, making my bare pussy dampen it's tongueless mouth. I tried to move off the expensive fabric…before I--.

"Wet it, Dez, I don't care."

How'd he know I was getting so wet? I thought to disobey; but, I liked the constant throb his cock was singing to my cunt. I wanted more. He could tell.

"Put your hands on my shoulders, and lean into me."

I hesitated, but finally did it, and it felt wonderful; but, I was loosing control, and the position put his hot lips too close to my breasts. If I'd been flatterchested we would have stayed within the law, but my tit brushed his hot mouth and he grabbed me and sucked.

Pulling away made him suck harder, biting just a bit, and his pants got wetter, at least from my side.

He smiled, mouth full of me, knowing he had me, knowing he was getting my body, that's controlled by me, that serves me, to betray me.

I pulled away to dismount, and his teeth let go but he held me on his hard bulge, pushing it up into me. I wanted it; but, I wasn't having it, as I shoved to get away. He grabbed a handful of hair on the back of my head.
Piss me! Tryin' to control me.

I backhanded him, and, suddenly, he had a switchblade at my ribs.

"She's thinking whether or not I want her enough not to slice her beautiful body, or if I'm afraid someone might hear her call out, and come for her." He pulled my head to his. "Delectable Dez, who's going to run through that door and into him? And, if they got past him, who'd run up on me? Even for you."

"What d'you want?"

"Control of you."

Thought so.

End of Excerpt

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