After posting the second chapter of this story and reiterating that some names and details changed, I just decided to post the updated version that is also much easier to read with adequate spacing. Since the site won't allow you to edit or delete a story once it has been published (a flaw in the system that I strongly suggest should be changed), I'll just have to cross my fingers and hope that new readers read this version of chapter one and not the original. Enjoy! Sountrack: Sunburn - Muse
Chapter 1: "Come waste your millions here... she burns like the sun..."
The razor sharp blade of her sword was soundless as it slit through the flesh of the drug lord’s throat like warm butter. Javier, however, made an attempt at screaming for help from his guards, all lifeless in a pool of their own blood outside the door, but could only gurgle and spit up his own blood as he watched the assassin pull the sword away in one final sweep, and then his life was over.
“One less sick fuck like you to torture little girls in his basement,” she growled. His idea of a good time reminded her of the warlock who held her captive as a slave for his own pleasures –and the pleasures of his guests- when she was only fifteen. It had taken her six years to gain the strength to slaughter him slowly in his bed. This man was no better.
Vixen examined the blade that dripped with the dead man’s guilty blood, then at the rest of the mess that stained the suede rug beneath them. She sighed and quickly grabbed her thermos before any more of the blood was wasted on the ugly furnishings. Grabbing a good fistful of Javier’s curly black hair, Vixen lifted back his head and moved the thermos beneath the wound to capture the blood that poured out. She cursed herself for not having the container ready the moment she did the fatal act so as not to have any of the precious supply go to waste. Once the canister was filled she hastily grabbed another as the blood continued to flow freely. This was taking way too long and she was already feeling drained from the night’s work but she couldn’t just take a bite or else she would leave behind DNA, so she waited without impatience.
At last the gash clotted and Vixen hurriedly stowed both thermoses in her satchel before checking the room for any evidence that would lead to the organization. When she found none she fled to the tenth story window and jumped.
Dane stood idly on the sidewalk, pondering how to spend the rest of his night off. Being kicked out of a bar for breaking some college kid’s nose could really mess up a guy’s plans, and his buzz. Not that he had one anyway. He felt pretty sorry for the poor girl who had to deal with the teen’s drunken courage and pissy, sore-loser aggressiveness. He was just trying to spare her from getting groped in the restroom or worse.
At the moment he had replayed the part where his fist connected with the teenager’s face, he was shoved by a woman who seemed to be in a hurry, knocking him off guard. It took but a second for him to stabilize himself and seek out who had assaulted him so randomly. When he looked up, lightning bolts struck at his chest. She was drop-dead sexy. His eyes trailed up from her black high heel shoes, sheer black knee-high stockings topped with a pink garter wrapped around the smoothest, cinnamon-toned legs he’d ever seen, a black pea coat under which he could guess was lingerie, all leading up to a face that could rival Aphrodite herself. She had piercing green eyes framed with thick, long lashes, a full pair of rosy lips, and jet black hair cut into a short dramatic bob that swept her collar bone. He blinked a few times at the sight.
“Wow. I’m… uh, sorry,” was all she said.
“Well sorry isn’t much of a name but thanks for apologizing for knocking the breath out of me with those eyes,” he said with a smile. She eyed him warily, only slightly amused by his flirting.
“Sorry for running into you; I’m kind of late for work.”
“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow, noting her current wardrobe. “Where at?” She flashed a deviant smile, exposing a row of perfect white teeth and walked past him into an alley. The woman approached a door and rapped on it twice before it opened, letting out a blue light and loud music. She turned back to him.
“You still want that name?” she yelled over the music.
“Dane,” he put a hand on his chest, bowing slightly, “Yours?” She flashed that deadly smile again.
“Vixen,” she replied, and dashed into the depths of the club. Dane walked around to the entrance and saw the bright moniker displaying the image of a woman with her head thrown back in ecstasy and the words reading Femme Mystique Bar and Lounge. Gulping down his assumptions, he stepped inside and walked through a long hall lined with glass mirrors, pink velvet, blue lighting, and women in lingerie. They each reached out seductively to touch any part of him they could as he passed by, one even moving to his side to press herself against him as she whispered hotly in his ear.
“So you here for business,” she reached down to grope his manhood, “or pleasure?” He grabbed her wrist firmly before she could even get a hold, causing her to squeak in surprise. “Curiosity,” he raised an eyebrow as he looked further down the hall to his destination. Without another look at the blonde twig, he released her wrist and continued on until he was stopped by a thick black woman wearing a purple corset that squeezed at her waist, leaving her fleshy bosom exposed to the heavy air.
“The entry fee is fifty dollars, honey,” she held out her waiting palms. Dane sighed, but reached into his wallet and pulled out three twenties.
“I’m guessing you don’t have change, so…” he offered her the bills and she took them graciously to stuff them into the tight corset.
“Go ahead, baby,” she smiled as she pulled open the rich blue velvet curtain, revealing a wide, spacious lounge with upper balconies lining the far walls opposite of the stage. The stage itself had to be at least thirty-by-twenty feet wide. All around were men in business suits smoking Cuban cigars and high-shelf liquor, all focusing their lusty gazes at the petite, blonde, and naked woman on stage who touched herself seductively to the ear-splitting rock music that played on the enormous speakers. Dane located the bar beneath the balconies facing the stage and chose a seat, ordering a scotch from the busty female bartender who pulled her full attention from the blonde onstage to eye him with the same level of attraction. He nodded a hello to the hot brunette as he tried to ignore the fact that she, just like all the workers in the club, was dressed in lacy lingerie or less. This one had curly brown hair and a perfect tan to set off a pair of striking blue eyes that were fixed on Dane as she poured his drink.
Like the other men, he fixed his attention on the woman onstage but could not understand how such a young woman could find herself in a place like this. She looked no older than nineteen years old, still freshly legal in his opinion. Yet, here she was, doing whatever she could to gain the attention and approval from these horny, rich bastards. All that effort to please others with no one giving their own time to please them couldn’t be worth all of the whistles and hollers and cash this place paid, even if it was an exorbitant amount.
Dane observed the room again, taking notice of the tablet devices that each man sitting at a table had in front of him. On the screens were the headshot of the blonde and a selection of different prices to choose ranging from five hundred to five thousand at five hundred dollar increments. Every time the blonde let out a moan another man would make a selection, adding more to his tab which Dane could guess they were required to pay at the end of the night. High-end strippers, Dane thought. He could imagine important business men having private meetings in the upper balconies without any shame. They probably even had their checking accounts wired to the place so that money could be directly exchanged without having to pay cash. “Smart system… for a bunch of rich idiots,” he spoke quietly to himself. The thought of some waitress getting a hold of the tablet and pressing all the buttons she could made him chuckle.
“Do I get to hear the joke?” asked the bartender. He chuckled again.
“Has anyone ever taken one of those tablets looking for a pay-raise?” The brunette gave a smile and nodded.
“Yeah, a really hot redhead and her girlfriend who used to perform here,” she paused in thought.
“And what happened to this hot waitress and her girlfriend,” asked Dane patiently. The bartender leaned over the counter and looked at him with those piercing blue eyes without losing her smile.
“The bastard made her pay for it out in the alley. Her and her girlfriend. Then he shot ‘em. In the head.” She lost her smile and returned to her work.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely.
“Yeah, me too. I really liked Kimmy. Nice smile. Her slut girlfriend deserved what she got, but she didn’t deserve Kimmy.” Dane was about to give another apology but he spotted a very extravagantly dressed gentleman in a pin-striped suit and a black chinchilla coat, smoking a cigar and strutting a glorified look of self-importance. The man wore an excessive amount rings on each finger and his graying hair was slicked back to the nape of his neck. Despite his short, stocky, and aging appearance, a group of scantily clothed women escorted him to his booth at the back of the room where he was served brandy by a curvy waitress who wore all the necessary pieces of the uniform except for a bra, so her pink nipples stood erect in the smoky air. The bartender rolled her eyes.
“Gedeon Markovski. Biggest mafia lord of Cinder City and comes here regularly to see our best girl, Vixen. She’s got him wrapped around her fingers, though I don’t know how she does it; he’s a prick.”
It struck Dane when he heard Vixen’s involvement with the mafia lord the precinct has been trying to nail for years now, but it also made him wonder just what kind of show she must have put on in order to gain his attention. He hoped to see her out on the floor just serving drinks in that lingerie she had been wearing outside but it seemed that wasn’t the case. He drew his attention back to his drink and waited for the blonde onstage to finish up her sensual dance and go home safely.
Vixen stood backstage behind the heavy, royal blue curtain that separated her from the horny crowd of men who sat with erections in their pants, stinking of liquor and cigars. They watched with hungry eyes as Chloe’s fair skin was revealed little by little as she removed the skimpy white lace lingerie from her lithe form and groped her tiny breasts and inner thigh, all in time with the sultry rock music blasting from the speakers surrounding the spacious club. Her smooth ivory skin glittered as it reflected the bright pink stage lights as she slid her small hands up her body into her thick, wavy blonde hair, rocking her hips back and forth, grinding the imaginary man beneath her on her knees which were spread apart, and revealing her bare, waxed womanhood. The men leaned forward in their seats, nearly in pain from the hardness in their pants as they imagined themselves beneath her gyrating hips, being milked for all they were worth. One man even went far enough as to put his hand in his pants and touch himself with abandon. He could go ahead; the club had no rules against it other than they couldn’t make a mess that they couldn’t clean up.
Chloe began working herself to a climax without any kind of stimulation other than the mere thought of someone working her to a head-spinning orgasm. She threw her head back in ecstasy as she let out a shrill cry and finally gave out, falling to her side as her fingers mindlessly slid across her bare breasts. The man in the audience climaxed in his pants. The rest took long drags on their cigars, gulped down the rest of their drinks, and tapped wildly on their tablets as the skimpily dressed waitresses served more rounds.
The music sank into a slower, sexier tempo as Vixen strutted out onto the stage, her high-heeled stilettos making sharp, prominent clicks as she swung her hips. The men’s eyes followed her every move and traced every gorgeous curve of her curvaceous form, completely forgetting the elf-like figure lying on the stage. She approached the girl and bent over at the hips to reach down and grab the luscious blonde hair atop Chloe’s head. Chloe moaned in response and opened her eyes slowly. When she saw Vixen’s bright green eyes winking and full red lips twist up in a crooked smile, her heart skipped a beat and she rose immediately to her feet, never breaking eye contact. Vixen led her over to the wooden table at the center of the stage, still grasping a handful of Chloe’s hair. Chloe laid on her back as Vixen released her hair and kissed her sensually, sliding her hands up the sides of the elf’s smooth thighs, finally groping her taut but firm ass. A soft squeak escaped from Chloe and Vixen continued exploring her body with her hands and lips, kissing her stomach, breasts, hips, thighs, and back up to her mouth. The girl moaned with anticipation as did the audience who drooled unconsciously at the scene before them.
Vixen thrived on the raw sensuality within the room and it pushed her further as she bit and scratched at her victim who cried wildly with passion. Having this job helped her gain her skills at seduction, a great trait to have as an assassin. At this point, she could send anyone –and really, anyone- to a numbing state of unfiltered euphoria once she pressed the right pressure points. She could also kill someone just as easily. Exploring her sexuality was also another perk to her job at Femme; she was paid an exorbitant amount of cash in only one hour on stage and she could spend that hour practicing her seduction and letting others practice on her, even though most could hardly ever cause enough moisture between her legs to mean anything. She still put on a good show so as not to upset any of the audience or management, and especially Gedeon Markovski, the Russian mafia lord who obsessed over her night and day. She needed him to so as to keep him close for when the time was right…
Chloe moaned again, panting heavily and breaking into a sweat. At least she can enjoy this, thought Vixen. Chloe had been one of the many who tried to get even a moan out of her and failed. The assassin envied the girl just a little for being able to get lost completely in the pure physical pleasure of stimulation unlike her who couldn’t risk letting her guard down for the slightest second. The girl could even work herself to an orgasm without being touched! Vixen hadn’t even experienced an orgasm in her life on account of selfish lovers and inexperienced fools who half-hazardly fumbled around trying to do things they thought she enjoyed. Still, she committed fully to pleasing the elf, sliding her tongue over her pink little clitoris and inserting her fingers into her tiny opening. Chloe moaned deeply, gripped the edges of the table tightly and arched her back dramatically. Vixen moved her fingers faster, coating them with the girl’s sweet essence as she continued to flick her tongue over her sex button. She then inserted her tongue fully into Chloe’s wet hole, causing the girl’s eyes to roll into her skull and the audience gave a round of applause. It didn’t take long after that for Chloe to orgasm loudly and black out completely on the wooden table. Vixen lapped up the remaining juices and signaled the other girls waiting backstage to carry Chloe to the wings and revive her.
Turning to the audience who were on their feet with loud applause, Vixen raised an eyebrow and gave a mischievous smile. “So who’s next, huh?” she shouted. The crowd became incredibly rowdy as they raised their glasses to be chosen for anything she had in mind. Vixen stepped offstage into the audience and looked around for her next victim, carefully avoiding Gedeon to fuel his jealousy and intensity of his infatuation. She also avoided the men who wreaked of semen, leaving a scarce amount left. Sitting at the bar staring right at her with a raised eyebrow was the man she ran into outside. He seemed to be studying her but also challenging her at the same time. Vixen took the challenge and wordlessly strode up to him, taking his hand in hers and pulled him to the stage. Dane followed willingly with his eyes on the cinnamon-toned female tugging him along as the men and Gedeon bore daggers into his back with their eyes. Their unspoken jealous threats were like razor blades on his flesh but he followed anyway.
A single chair had been brought out onto the stage and Vixen pushed him down into the seat as she slowly circled him, trailing her fingers along his strong shoulders and sharp jaw line. Just touching him sent a strange, exhilarating jolt of an unknown energy throughout her body and, for the first time, she could feel the excitement coil in her stomach and work its way lower. She had felt this the moment she collided with him in front of the club. Even recovering from the encounter, she couldn’t get the image of his beautifully tanned skin, deep brown hair, and almost luminescent hazel eyes out of her mind. Touching him and proving for herself that he was tangible and living thrilled her and scared her at the same time. He could be a distraction, leaving her open and vulnerable to any attackers while she had her guard down. He could even be an enemy himself! She tried to fight for some stability within her thoughts but in a split second he had gained control and grabbed her inner thigh to pull her into his lap so that she straddled him. Vixen gasped, startled at is speed and furious at herself for leaving an opening. They stared into each other’s eyes intensely, Vixen with a hard grimace at her new-found opponent and Dane with a hint of amusement.
Intent on not being the victim of this situation, Vixen began to take control and grind her hips to the rhythmic beats pumping from the speakers. She slid her hands over his shoulders and around his neck where she pressed lightly, releasing endorphins into his body that made him groan quietly as he closed his eyes and let out a long exhale. “Cheater,” he grunted, and Vixen gave a smug grin as she continued to grind against him. The victory didn’t last long as Dane grabbed her hips firmly and applied pressure to either sides of her lower back, successfully releasing endorphins into Vixen’s body and forcing the first ever honest moan from her lips as she tilted her head back in ecstasy. Her moan was followed up with a gasp as Dane thrust his hips up once then slowly ground himself into her as she had done before. He continued to work his hands over her body; pushing buttons she never knew existed that could send her into a fit of moans and cries of physical bliss.
Backstage, Chloe had fully revived in time to see the stranger make Vixen moan for the first time, an achievement Chloe had tried time and time again to fulfill. Vixen had been nice enough to let her keep trying but it seemed futile to try and fail endlessly. It was like the woman was either truly made of glass with no nerve cells at all or Chloe was the absolute worst lover on the planet. All she really wanted to do was bring the goddess pleasure, to gain some kind of approval from the woman she spent endless nights fantasizing about. The moments they had on stage were the best moments of her life, casting a glowing, euphoric light on the bleak darkness she ran away from years ago. Being pleasured by Vixen was greater than all the sex and drugs her old life had to give, greater than all the highs combined from two year’s worth of heroine. Chloe wanted to prove her love by giving Vixen something that no one else could, and she couldn’t even do it, but this man that she straddled onstage now could and she glared with murderous jealousy at him, clawing his eyes out with her mind. She felt a pang of sadness as she looked upon Vixen’s beautiful coffee skin glowing with sweat as her eyebrows furrowed with the concentration of a woman reaching her climax. Angry tears escaped the rims of her waterline, dragging black eyeliner down with it across her cheeks as she watched Vixen reach her first climax without so much as a touch from the stranger.
“Are you alright, Chloe?” asked Gemma, a British redhead who more-or-less gave everyone the same general degree of politeness. Chloe shot daggers at her and Gemma continued to warm up for the next act without another word. Vixen stumbled backstage past the dancers to sit in a foldout chair by the tree lights on the side of the stage. The girls watched her with wary smiles on their faces. Finally, one spoke up.
“Look who just had their first orgasm, ladies!” shouted Fo, a freckled dancer with a dark pixie cut.
“Vixen’s all grown up!” teased Roxie, another dancer with choppy, dirty blonde layers. Vixen, still recovering, just gave a weak grin and rolled her eyes.
“Who was that guy and what in bloody hell did he do to make you cum?!” asked Gemma with amazement. They were all curious to know since they had all tried and failed themselves to get such a reaction.
“He touched me,” Vixen panted heavily with hooded eyes. The girls looked at each other, dumbfounded.
“Well, fuck me!” exclaimed Gemma with frustration. The group laughed, even Vixen who had her eyes closed as she leaned back in the chair to catch her breath, but Chloe stood still and silent with her tiny hands balled into fists, nails digging into flesh.