Master, Master {ManxMan} {BDSM}

Chapter One

7-25-16

{Master, Master}

{Chapter One}

"Jason, what are we doing here?" Christian asks in irritation from beside me in the torn black seat. I look to him as if he's crazy before my eyes move back to the pretty dancers.

"Chris, I told you, I'm buying you a lap dance, duh. Now, who do you fancy? Her? Oh that brunette has some nice tits." I point to a stripper who is currently making a card vanish before our eyes, without the use of her hands. Her black and red bra has long since vanished, leaving her perky breasts on full display of the drooling men.

"I am not getting a lap dance. I'm gay, and so are you!" he cries in exasperation, running a hand through his tousled, odd auburn hair that looks brown under these lights. I smirk at this as I watch a pretty blonde in a skimpy blue nighty do an impressive twirl on the pole nearest us. Her sparkling blue eyes that are clearly contacts look to me with a seductive look as her tongue flicks out to lick her plump pink lips as she leans on the pole, sliding down while spreading her legs to show off her dark blue thong. I look away, not at all interested in looking at a woman down there.

"So? I'm still buying you one, you've been so moody lately, you could use it." I motion for an overly fake bleach blonde to come over. She saunters over here in her six inch heals, her tiny top barely covering her large breasts while the skimpy bottoms are laughable. "My friend here wants a lap dance. Make it extra special," I wink as I slip the hundred to her.

Her eyes widen at the large amount that leaves her with an eighty dollar tip. She looks estatic about this, but Christian does not.

"No, I don't," Christian mutters. The woman tilts her head in confusion, with a slight hesitence but I shake my head and pat Christian on the back good-naturally as an idea enters my head.

"Aw, don't mind him. He's just embarrassed, he has a problem," I laugh to myself for a moment before clarifying. "Well, no, that isn't right. He doesn't have a problem, which is the problem. See, my dear friend here has erectile dysfunction."

"Oh you poor thing!" the woman coos like worried mother, moving to pinch Christian's cheeks, much like a mother. He tilts his head to the side to give me a death glare that I swiftly ignore. "How old are you, honey?"

Christian's eyes darken in anger and I can already see him plotting my death. Though he sighs and answers the young woman, being the polite boy he is.

"Twenty," he mutters. The woman's expression is priceless but to her credit she doesn't let that stop her from preforming the lap dance.

"Well, I may be able to help with that in the back room," she purrs, all previous compassion gone, instead she turns into the whore she's supposed to be.

"You should go, man. Don't let this ruin your life, don't be ashamed. It's who you are. It happens to many men, don't be embarrassed that you can't get it up," I add loudly on purpose. A few guys around us glance at Christian discreetly with looks of amusement and he pins me with a withering glare.

"I hate you," he mouths. Though he lets the stripper do her job, but clearly isn't affected by her big boobs and great hip skills. When she's done dancing she looks to me, a seductive look morphing her features.

"How about you, honey? Care for a dance? Or maybe we can go to the back room," I open my mouth but Christian interrupts me, clearly pretending to whisper but purposefully talking loud enough for all to hear.

"I wouldn't, he has an STD. And between you and me, I think he's in transition. See, he's gay so why would he go to a straight strip club? I think he's researching how to be the best woman he, or rather she, can be." The woman looks mortified but covers it with the fakest smile I have ever seen as a nervous laugh bursts past her soft lips.