Page 2
Story: Razor’s Property
1
Razor
“ Y ou want another round, Razor?”
I give a slight shake of my head as I bring the glass to my lips, my eyes trained on the stage as the pungent taste burns on my tongue.
Coating the back of my throat with the thick heat of my memories.
Kitty Lane reaches for the pole and swivels her hips down, dancing to the rhythmic pulse of the beat.
The base pumps throughout the room as the blood pumps faster in every onlooker’s veins.
The waitress finally takes her burning stare off the side of my face and runs along to do her job.
Kitty Lane slides back up the pole.
Slowly. Beginning a steady roll of her hips like she’s riding a man.
Fucking him faster as the crowd gets louder, shouting their approval.
Degrading her with their thoughts.
I doubt there’s a dry seat in the house.
All of them wanting her to give them a real fuck.
Their twisted minds believing they actually have a shot because she smiled in their direction.
Dollar bills get tossed to the stage and a chant rings out for her to take her bra off.
She turns her head to the side, seducing them further as she slips one strap down her arm.
Teasing the men with her eyes.
Luring them in with the sly smile quirked on her lips.
She turns her attention to other side of the room, slipping down the other strap.
Working her audience with equal measure.
With every tease of skin, more money gets thrown on stage.
More cat calls pierce my eardrums. She plays the game with perfection.
A natural at the lie.
Like a black widow of seduction.
When her bra finally slips free, dropping to the ground, the men erupt wildly, begging her to turn around so they can see her tits.
Throwing more money at her so she’ll give them what they want.
When she finally does, the drunk bastards go crazy.
It’s like they’ve never seen a naked pair before.
Kitty’s always been the crowd favorite.
Pretty blonde hair with a tight body and a full rack.
Her tits are bought and paid for, but no one in this joint gives a shit.
They’re just happy they aren’t sagging from the weight of age or stretched from having kids.
Her entire body is toned and tight, but spending hours dancing around a pole, using her muscles to spin herself around on the thing, will keep a girl fit.
The music changes. The tempo slower, beating like the steady rhythm of sex.
It’s her final set. And you can tell by the look in her eyes that she’s ready to give the guys a grand finale.
She slides down to her knees, crawling slowly to the front of the stage.
Preying on every innocent man as she stalks them with her stare.
Drawing them into her trap.
She has them right where she wants them.
And then…she goes in for the kill.
She sits back on her knees.
Her thighs spread wide enough to see the outline of what she’s got hidden under her G-string, tits pushed out for everyone to get a good view of her cherry-capped mounds.
Her hands start their steady descent, running down her neck, gliding slowly over the line between her breasts.
She circles the plump flesh, teasing the men with every rotation, earning a choir of grunts and groans.
Her fingers glide to her nipples, giving each a pinch as she bites down on her lower lip.
Beginning to fuck the air with her hips while she makes eye contact with every man in the room.
Making them believe they’re desired.
Making them crave her more, and earning herself a flood of flying bills.
One of her hands remains locked and groping on her breast while the other makes its way down, sliding lower, trailing slowly over her stomach, continuing its path to the crux of every man’s desire.
She teases her fingers across her waistline until the men can’t handle it anymore, begging for her to touch herself, and she finally gives in.
Her hand slides straight into her panties and her head falls back on her shoulders like the pleasure has just rocked her hard.
The men go wild. Shouting how they’ll give her what she needs.
Pleading for her to take her panties off so they can see what she’s got hiding between those legs.
She keeps up the game, playing with herself, rocking her hips faster.
Making every dick throb for her.
She lifts her head from her shoulders and opens her eyes, and then she turns.
Her stare locking right on me as she pulls the material to the side.
As if she’s showing me exactly what I’m doing to her little pussy.
Making it swollen. Making it wet.
The silent message is sent, burning like a blue flame in the depths of her weighted eyes.
It’s me she’s thinking of as she rubs herself off, and if I want to take her home tonight, she’s mine.
I bring my glass back up to my lips and take another sip, ignoring the urges pulsing between my legs.
It’s never going to happen.
Unlike the others in the room, I can see right through the act.
There’s a reason she’s up on that stage dancing to make her living, and it isn’t because it was her lifelong goal.
Whatever brought her here, whatever she’s wrapped up in or running from isn’t something I want to get involved with.
I’m already dealing with enough baggage to know I can’t carry any more.
Besides, even if I was interested in curbing my appetite, I don’t have a taste for eager, and ever since the day I walked into this club, Kitty’s been begging to be mine.
Making her desire known every time I come in.
But the only taste I have is for the whiskey in my glass, numbing the memories with every sip until they’re no longer locked around my neck.
No longer constricting my soul until I can’t breathe.
Her head finally turns, knowing she’s left her paying customers hanging for too long.
She slips her hand out from between her legs and brings her fingers to her lips, sucking on them nice and slow.
Lewdly licking up every drop of her cum.
The men beg for a taste, throwing more money at her, and she tsk s them with those same fingers.
Seducing them further as she crawls around the stage, stopping at each desperate victim to collect her hard-earned cash.
They tuck bills into her G-string, then tuck more in when she lets them have an up-close peek of what’s hiding behind that scrap of a cloth between her legs.
She blows them a kiss before moving onto the next gullible soul who’ll hand over his paycheck, thinking it will earn himself a shot with the girl.
I’d put money on her having a few sugar daddies in her life that pay her bills.
One of them probably bought her her tits too.
Probably married with a wife and kids at home, and a day job that bores the hell out of him.
A man willing to risk it all for a hot fuck.
Stupid shit. All of them are.
I take another sip, trying not to think of the life I could’ve had had I made a different choice.
Had I not let my dick call the shots for me and fuck up the best thing I ever had.
But I can’t turn back the clock, can I?
I made my damn bed, and now I’m going to die in it.
When Kitty gets to my side of the stage, she stops, waiting like she always does.
Her little teeth sinking into her lower lip as she runs her eyes down my frame, slowly sliding them over my lap and staring at the bulge inside my pants.
The one heavy and thick, and hard not to miss.
Her tongue runs across her lip, relaying exactly what she’s hungry for.
“If you’re ever feeling lonely, Razor, you know I’ll give you a private show. Make it worth your while.” Her eyes drop back down to my dick, flaring as she lets out a little moan.
I tip my glass toward my mouth then polish off its contents, watching as the desire burns darker in her blue depths.
Her rosy nipples pucker up tighter, revealing the thoughts running through her head.
I lean forward to place my empty glass down on the bar in front of her, seeing the flare of excitement light up her face.
She thinks I might finally be taking her up on her offer, that I might finally be giving in.
But like I said, it’s never going to happen.
I slip a bill onto the stage and turn my head to signal the waitress for my check.
Kitty pauses for a second longer, still watching me closely, still holding out hope, but my mouth stays shut.
My face void of interest. She picks up the Benjamin I left for her then finally cuts her losses, moving on to collect the rest of her tips.
Putting a little more excitement into her flirtations with the man sitting next to me while she watches me from the corner of her eye, gauging my reaction.
The girl is a fool to think she’d find me jealous.
Not when it comes to her.
The lights start flickering, letting Kitty know her time is up, which means it’s time for me to head out.
I only ever stay for one drink.
One drink and one dance is enough to take the edge off.
Enough to numb the regret and occupy my mind for a bit.
“And here she is, gentleman.” The announcer’s voice quiets the entire room.
The ruckus fading fast. It’s a curious reaction.
There’s a new tension of eagerness settling over the crowd as everyone waits to find out who’s up next.
“She’s the one you’ve been waiting for. Our new addition. Miss Angel Fire. She may look like an angel, all sweet and demure, but we all know that underneath all that sweet innocence is a wild girl wanting to be tamed. Are you guys ready to wrangle her in? Ready to clip her wings and make a sinner out of her?”
The crowd turns rabid, screaming louder than they did for Kitty.
And Kitty Lane is the star of this place.
I watch as the spotlights come on and the foggers fill the stage with smoke.
The song starts to pump louder through the speakers, and everyone begins chanting her name.
“Angel! Angel! Angel!”
I’m glued to the dark shadow hidden behind the mist. Waiting for this girl to come into the light and reveal herself.
I’m curious as to who is receiving more of an uproar than Kitty.
The fog parts and out she walks.
White feather wings drawn up.
A shimmery diamond bodice sparkling under the lights.
Long, toned legs gracefully sauntering forward just like an angel.
The cheering grows louder as she comes center stage, but its quickly drowned by the sound of the rapid pulse drumming in my ears.
Eight years. It’s been eight years.
Nearly three thousand days.
And I would never mistake her face.
Never forget those eyes.
Dark chocolate like a decadent treat.
So rich and smooth you can barely swallow when you look within their depths.
They used to turn molten when I had her pinned beneath me.
Would flutter when I’d tell her how beautiful she was.
There’s no mistaking…
It’s her.
I scoot forward in my chair, feeling the tension rolling down my spine.
The hairs raising on my arms. My nerves are prickling, like a porcupine is brushing against every single one.
She flutters her wings as she moves around the stage, dancing to the beat.
The rhythm of her hips mesmerizing every man in the room.
Her angelic face making them fall in love.
I turn my head, staring them down, watching them lust after her.
Their tongues are hanging from their drooling mouths.
Hands gripped around their cocks with absolutely no shame as they rub themselves off to her.
Anger starts to boil up my chest, threatening to erupt.
My fists clench in my lap.
My body practically shaking.
“Here’s your check, Razor.” The waitress sets down my bill and I shake my head.
“Bring me another.”
My voice gets snagged on my nerves, coming out rough.
Sharp. The girl hesitates, her curiosity burning against my face again, then finally, she rushes off, and my focus is narrowly centered back on the stage, back on the girl who used to be sweet and innocent.
She was the image of perfection.
The girl next door. Cheerleader, good grades, pretty as an angel.
But that pretty has transformed into something along the lines of turbulent.
Trying to knock me on my ass and taking the wind straight from my lungs.
She’s sexy as fucking sin.
Temptation bred in every sinful curve.
At eighteen, her curves were slight, not having fully developed.
At twenty-six, they’ve filled in…
and are more than ample.
And all real. A set of tits that haven’t been bought or paid for, spilling over the top of her shimmery bra, fuller than I ever imagined.
Her hips have filled out too, no longer skin and bones, but now proof she’s a woman.
About the only thing that’s exactly the same is that silken mahogany hair, which still hangs in long, loose curls down her back.
Flowing like a true beauty.
She always was the prettiest girl I had ever seen.
Not sure what word I’d use to describe her now.
None exist to measure up to the one dancing before me.
She’s looking out toward the crowd as she moves around the stage, but she’s not making eye contact with anyone in particular.
Not sure if it’s by choice, choosing the back wall as her focal point, or if she’s struggling to see anything beyond the spotlights, which are beaming down in her eyes.
She still hasn’t turned to this side of the stage.
Still hasn’t caught sight of me sitting by the edge.
I wonder if she’d even recognize me.
She never saw me with a full beard.
Or with full ink. Mine runs down my neck now and the full length of my arms and chest, dipping beneath my jeans.
I ain’t that clean-cut kid she remembers.
I’ve grown a hell of a lot darker inside and out.
And I’m not sure what the fuck happened to her.
She was all smarts, straight As, and going places, but she wound up in this strip club, dancing for men who think of her as nothing more than a paid whore.
Shouting obscenities and begging for her to take her top off.
They’ll tip her extra for a fuck in the back.
Buy her a car to be their little side piece.
Fuck!
My jaw tightens under the pressure of that truth.
I don’t like the fact that she’s in this place.
Kensington shouldn’t be stripping in this sketchy club, which is sittin’ off the highway where she could find herself getting hurt.
Truckers ride in from all parts as they haul their freight from one end of the country to the other.
They’re liable to shove her in the back of their cab and haul her off; do who knows what with her.
These fuckers are dangerous.
“Decided to stay, huh?”
My view is suddenly obstructed as Kitty steps in front of me.
Her tits forced in my face as she grips the handles of my chair, caging me in with her intention.
Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone so determined.
Doesn’t she realize it’s a turnoff?
Going after what you want is one thing, but she’s starting to smell desperate.
I guess it’s time I’m gonna have to spell it out for her.
“Do you want to come in the back for a private dance, Razor?” She slithers up my frame, causing me to lean back so I don’t get hit in the cheek with her nipple.
“I promise I’ll make it good for you. Real good,” she moans as she squeezes her tits in my face, sliding over my junk.
She does this to the other men, expecting them to put money between her cleavage.
I’ll pay her if she’ll leave.
“Didn’t tell you you could touch me, doll.”
My harsh tone has her jerking back.
She shifts, slowly peeling herself off my lap.
Suddenly looking unsure of what to do next.
She should walk away and leave me alone, but she doesn’t.
Which means I’m going to have to be blunt.
“I’m not interested, doll. Came here for a drink. Nothing more. Now, run along to someone who wants what you’re offering.”
“Are you married?” She looks down at my hand.
There’s no ring. Only loved one girl.
The one who she’s blocking my view of.
The one taking off her fucking clothes for a bunch of slime-bags.
Last I checked, Kensy was in college, going places with her life, smiling up at some stiff-necked, scholar boy on campus.
Straitlaced and not fucking running with a bunch of one-percenters.
I wanted to strangle the kid, the jealousy nearly paralyzing me in madness, but…
I knew he was the better choice for her.
He wouldn’t drag her into the trenches of the danger I was living in.
He would be able to give her the life she wanted.
The one she deserved.
I’d chosen my path. I was King’s henchman.
A Savage Knight. Brother by oath and bound by secrets.
Still am and will always be a member of the brotherhood.
But after shit went down and we lost Rubble, after what happened to Skully, I had to hit the road.
Came out to my grandad’s old cabin and I haven’t gone back.
What I want to know is why the hell she’s here?
She was a good girl with a bright future ahead of her.
Why the fuck is she now up on that stage strippin’ for cash?
“Razor?”
Forgot Kitty was waitin’ on an answer.
What was the question?
Right. Am I married ?
Nah, I fucked that up real good.
I’ll never forget the look in Kensy’s eyes.
The sheer pain I put her through.
It’s a demon that still haunts me to this day.
“Not married. Nor am I interested. Now, move along.”
“I get off at one if you change your mind.”
Damn, she’s still not gettin’ it.
Don’t plan on changing my mind.
Ever .
She finally removes herself from my view, and I get a glimpse of the angel up on stage.
Her shimmery bra lying on the ground.
Pert tits on full display.
And my mouth goes dry.
She was young and ripe the last time I saw her.
Those babies fit right into the palm of my hands, but she grew into more than a handful.
Her nipples are still the same though.
Tight little rosy buds, puckered up from the chill…
or from the heat of all the attention she’s getting.
My palms clench tighter.
“Here’s your drink, Razor?”
I practically yank the glass from the waitress’s hand, tossing its contents back in one gulp, trying to reconcile the woman up on stage from the girl I once knew.
Wondering when the hell she lost all that sweet innocence as she moves her body like a fucking dominatrix.
She may look like an angel, but she dances like sin fuels her blood.
“You know, if you need something stronger than a drink, I’ve got some”—the waitress leans in close to my ear—“meth in the back.”
The fuck?
What the fuck is she doing with that shit?
And where the hell did she get it?
“I’m good, doll. Curious though, if I ever wanted to get my hands on some, who’d I have to talk to?”
I’m hoping she’ll enlighten me on who the fuck has come into my town, trying to push their shit on these girls.
Not on my fucking watch they don’t.
It’s the one thing us Savage Knights have no tolerance for: drugs.
“There’s a regular that comes in every once in a while. If you ever need me to get you some, I can? I’d only up-charge you a kiss. And maybe a good hard fuck.” She glances down at my crotch.
I can’t even fake the flattery, given the fact that my girl is working in a club where some drug scum is pushing his shit.
I want to blow a fucking fuse.
There’s suddenly a loud commotion in the crowd and my attention snaps to see what the fuck is going on.
The bouncers are moving in, grabbing onto some asshole who’s trying to climb his way up on the stage and get to Kensy.
I nearly bolt from my seat to take care of the shit myself, but they’ve got him locked down and dragged off before I can react.
Suddenly, another drunken asshole comes from the other side, seizing the opportunity to get to her while no one’s looking.
I’m out of my seat and stalking over, but two more bouncers move in before I get to him.
Locking his ass down and hauling him out of the place.
I look up at the stage and Kensy’s being escorted to the back by another two giant thugs.
Jesus, this place has a lot of guard dogs.
That should alleviate some of the tension, but it doesn’t.
It makes me want to tear the place to shreds and get her somewhere safe.
“You guys need to lock your shit down,” roars the announcer.
“I won’t have my best girl getting hurt. Now, seeing as you can’t control yourselves, I’m putting her away for the night. But if you want to see her again, you best apologize with those Benjamins you’ve got in your pockets. The girls will be coming around to collect your apologies. And you better fucking grovel.”
Motherfucker!
I’d bet a million bucks Kensy won’t see a dime of that so-called apology money.
It fucking pisses me off.
This is not where she belongs.
She belongs in a castle being pampered like a princess, not being peddled like a whore.
I pull out another Benjamin, dropping it on the waitress’s tray as I storm out of the place.
I need to leave before I make a stupid move.
I’m one man and they have the place lined with bouncers, which means I won’t get past them to get to her.
I’ll have to wait. Catch her when she’s heading out.
Good news is she won’t be dancing for these fuckers again tonight.
Or ever again. Because like hell I’m going to stand by and let her degrade herself like this.
As soon as I’m done with her, she’s going to be putting in her notice.