AT HIS MERCY

CHAPTER 3 - PLEASURE

Macane could still remember the first time he had seen her. He could still feel each beat she moved to, each sway of her hips, bounce off her tits, each teasing move sending a jolt of life to his cock.

An unwanted deal with the Albanians had forced a meeting at the 'Pleasure Palace'. A smallish strip club downtown located on neutral turf. He hated these types of joints. The smell of Cheap women, watered-down brandy, and unfortunate scumbags stifled the air.

Macane found himself at the back of the poorly lit club, discussing the security measure of the pending meeting with Murphy, even though Macane could easily look after himself, this meeting was not in his territory so an extra pair of eyes, hands, or gun could come in handy. They sat down on a faded red sofa in one of the dark corners and hinted to the eager redheaded waitress to come over.

"Bourbon and a Lager," Murphy said over the loud music to the almost topless and very young redhead, who just agreeably shook her head, making her tits bounce, and turned to the bar. Macane gazed around the murky club that was mostly furnished in red with a yellow glow from the poorly lit downlights hanging from the roof. From where he was sitting to his left was a hallway that led to four rooms, one of which was marked 'Office' and the other two 'Bathroom' the last door had PRIVATE SHOW spray painted on the door.

To Macane's right was the bar further where the bartender was running around minding orders from the waitresses. Next to the bar stood a fat little man who was pouring drinks to girls seemingly young enough to be his daughters, and according to Murphy's information, the little chub was Sal Kroc, the owner of this establishment. Sal said something to the men at his side smiling past his cigarette as he got up and walked to the little DJ booth at the top of the stage.

The stage was located in front of him, where he could see the men that swarmed around it, infatuated with the topless blond on it. Waving their money around at her, hoping for any type of attention.

Macane stretched out his arms at the back of the sofa as his attention returned to Murphy who was preoccupied with the topless redheaded waitress who had returned in the meantime with their order. Annoyed at his friend's shameless flirting with the Redhead and the shameless gawking of her ass as she retreated to the bar, he said irritated but loud enough for just Murphy to hear "They better be on time" Murphy took a pull at the Lager in his hand, "We give five more minutes then we wait outside and give them a lesson in punctuality" Murphy calmly smiled taking another pull at his drink. Macane didn't do friends but Murphy was a blood brother, he was different, they grew up in the same orphanages, and lived in the same streets bathed in the same blood to reach their success. He gladly smiled taking bullets for Macane and thus Murphy would forever have his respect and loyalty.

The lights went out. Leaving the club mostly dark, Sal appeared on stage in a dim light announcing the next dancer the "Prima Ballerina". Macane hadn't even realized that the blond nurse had finished. The room went dark again and music started playing, to Macane's surprise it was a song he knew, Bohnes, You Created a Monster, blasted over the sound system.

He took another quick pull off the cheap bourbon as a few lights went on, revealing a petite dark-haired dancer, wearing a sexy nude eggier leotard, with Ballet pointe shoes. Raising herself to the point of her toes. As the music increased volume and tempo, her small frame swiftly followed the beat with another light, fluorescent purple on stage making her hair seem almost blue-black.

She turned around and placed her hands on the pole as she continued to move her body with erotic maneuvers against the pole. Macane couldn't breathe air into his lungs, He could physically feel every sway of her hips as if she was right there rolling her hips against him, his cock instantly hard, he watched her memorized by every part of her, his body ached like never before, desperate, screaming with the need for her. She slowly popped the buttons of the corset, then continued walking to the front end of the small stage. His heart booming in his ears as she turned several times on her toes, one leg lifted as she turned a last time turning to drop her corset and continue to the pole.

He was staring at the beautiful smooth skin she so freely showed looking over her shoulder before she revealed her bare breasts slowly working the pole, her nipples hard. Anger, outrage, and jealousy burned Macane's inside making him grip the back of the sofa, feeling the material on the sofa give way to his hard grip. Grinding his teeth, his jaw to the point of pain, he had to physically keep himself from jumping up, rushing to her to keep her from exposing herself even more to the scum at her feet. But she wasn't his, why was his body reacting like a deprived teenager? She moved her body provocatively in front of them and as the last beat echoed and she quickly moved off the stage.

Murphy had said something but Macane still had his eyes glued to the last place he saw her. Tearing his attention away from the stage, He reminded himself that she wasn't real, only a fantasy, a tease. He took the last mouthful of his diluted drink, welcoming the distracting almost choking burning taste that would bring him back to reality and hopefully get his cock on board because the last thing he wanted was to meet the Albanians with a hard-on.

The nurse started her routine again. Macane could still feel the anger firing with a rapid burning in his chest, he had to get out before she danced again. "Murphy time to go teach those fuckwads manners" He threw a hundred on the table in front of Murphy. He needed out of the club now, he knew if he saw her again now, feeling so unhinged, he would throw her over his shoulder before any of these fuckers would see so much as her toe. He even now appreciated the insolence of the Albanians because now he had an outlet.