Love & Orgasms

Sick - One Shot

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Shylah's POV.

The sound of the music guides me. I listen to the ebb and flow of the rhythm and move my hips accordingly, keeping in time. The rail is cold to touch against my hot palms. There isn't much ventilation in this room, the smoke machines provide the only form of air flow. 

It hits midnight and the strobe lighting comes on. The music kicks up a notch, the bass pounding so hard I feel the vibrations in my chest. I keep doing my thing, swaying my hips and avoiding eye contact with the horny and hungry vampires below. I know my lane and I'm sticking to it.

Another dancer, Janessa, sashays through the crowd below me. She walks up to my podium and curls her finger, beckoning me down. I crouch so that I can hear her as she stands on the lower ground.

"He's here."

Those two words send a shiver down my spine. I nod in thanks and straighten up, my eyes instantly searching for him. I scan the faces of the crowd, knowing exactly who I'm looking for. I can't see him and that makes my heart beat faster.

Where is he?

I sense a presence behind and I stop dancing, straightening my back. I level my shoulders and slowly turn around. My boss is in front of my podium, he snuck up to the stage floor without me noticing. As usual, his expression is set into a frown, his eyebrows low above his black eyes. He's had his hair cut, it is styled back from his face. I like it.

He doesn't say anything as he reaches for the leash wrapped around the railing. Slowly and purposefully, he unwinds the leash and wraps it around his fist instead. When I am free from the rail but trapped in his hand, he gives a tug, bringing me forwards. 

No words are required as he opens the gate to the podium and steps to the side. Knowing what he wants, I step out and he shuts the gate behind me. Silently, he starts walking to the stairs, leash in hand. It's attached to the leather collar around my neck. I follow two steps behind him, enough to allow some slack in the lead so he isn't pulling me.

We go straight to the private floor upstairs. His office is at the end of the hall. He unlocks it with a key he produces from his pocket and guides me inside. I lick my lips as I hear the lock click behind us. An entire wall of his office is a one-way mirror. It looks out on the dance floor below. I stare down at them, entranced by their writhing bodies.

He comes up behind me and wraps his hand around my neck. His breath caresses my bare skin as his fingers play with my collar.

"Do you like watching them?" He purrs in my ear.

His voice is like whiskey on the rocks, burning warm yet icy at the same time. I think of the drink each time I hear it.

"Yes," I whisper. He tightens his hold on my neck, restricting the collar. "Sir," I add quickly.

"Then watch them," he snarls against the shell of my ear.

A large hand pushes between my shoulder blades, shoving me towards the window. I stand an inch or so away from the glass, watching the dancers but painfully aware of the enormous vampire behind me.

He grabs a fistful of my hair, tugging hard. I grit my teeth to stop myself from crying out. He presses my face against the glass and I grimace, knowing my foundation will leave a smudge. 

"Watch them," he orders.

One hand presses my face to the cold glass. The other slides down my back and over my butt. He caresses my buttock, stroking softly before landing a slap with a loud crack. I flinch but remain silent. He does this over and over until my tears mark the glass and my ass is on fire. He lifts the fabric of my flimsy skirt and hums in approval.