ADAW 8/52 - Night
I had a rough couple of weeks so I am behind on posting! DX But here is the one for Night, and I am hoping to get Blue done on Sunday. Story is NSFW so it is posted under the cut. Thanks for looking!
- I decided to swap the names of Leo and Victor, so Leo is now Leo Ortolan, Vala and Françoise’s brother, and Victor is Victor Chamberlain, Leo’s right-hand man. Leo is the new upstart head of the smaller mob that competes with Samantha’s group, and his largest endeavor is a classy strip club with many private rooms and haughty clientele.
- TW: Stripping, hair pulling, and knife play. Obviously this story is fantasy! In the magical world of writing no one gets hurt.
***
Leo huffed. He didn’t like going into the girls’ dressing room in the club, but he hadn’t been able to find his sister anywhere else, and he needed to ask her something before he left.
He rapped on the door with his knuckles, and one of the dancers opened it a crack. “Oh!” she squeaked in surprise.
“Is Vala in here?” he asked. The girl at the door glanced around the room, and as she began to nod, Leo shouldered his way in. The room was cluttered with old furniture from the main rooms of the club, vanities, mirrors, clothing, and scantily-clad women. Raised voices sounded from further back, and Leo thought he could pick out Vala’s twittery English among them. He wound his way through, girls scattering like startled birds as they spotted him. When he reached the back of the room, he found a bit of a crowd forming. It broke as a woman shoved past him, her eyes full of angry tears, muttering. In Russian? Leo wasn’t sure.
The cluster left behind included Vala, looking skinny in a sheer white dress. A few girls continued to bicker, and one spoke quietly to Vala. She was perched on the corner of a loveseat, braced on knee-high stiletto boots, toying with a full wineglass that rested on her knee. Her arms and legs were wrapped in fishnet, her breasts threatening to escape from a black leather corset.
Leo frowned. Her face was young. Too young.
“All right, all right, break it up” he said, shooing away a bickering pair, who were quickly followed by the last onlookers. He turned to the girl in black. “I may have been born at night, but I wasn’t born *last* night. You’re not twenty-one.” He put out his hand for the glass.
Without looking away from Vala, the girl downed the entire glass in one gulp. As she stood, she handed him the glass. “Merci, garçon,” she said, passing him.
“Hey!” he shouted. Leo’s arm darted out, and before he’d realized what he was doing, his empty hand closed on a fistful of the girl’s dark, wavy hair, jerking her head back. She didn’t stumble.
“Leo, you ass!” Vala screamed, punching her brother’s arm. He released the hair immediately. The girl didn’t even turn around. “You can’t come in here and treat my girls like some of your stupid thugs! She wasn’t even drinking it! She took it away from Svetlana! Because Svetlana drinks too much!” Vala’s words skated over his consciousness, his mind more occupied with watching the girl in black walk away. Her hips swayed in the shape of a heart as she walked. “And you’re not even listening!”
Leo put his hand to his forehead. “Vala, I’ve never even seen that girl before. She looks like she’s ten!”
“She’s the same age as me, merci beaucoup, and I think it is her better luck that she dances the nights you are at meetings!” For all that her dress was white, Vala resembled a stormcloud.
“Well, if you’ve got teenagers as the voice of reason when the other girls are drinking, what does that say about the organization back here?”
“Enculé! What are you even doing here?”
Leo blinked stupidly. “I needed to ask you something, and now I’ve completely forgot.”
Vala stomped a very high heel and pointed wildly back the way he’d come. “Leave!”
Feeling stupid and brutish, Leo slouched out, scowling darkly the whole time. He headed for the stairs, finally remembering that he’d wanted to ask Vala where she’d put some wine he hoped to take to a meeting this evening. He could get a different bottle from the cellar. As he passed the largest stage room, he spotted a leggy figure. The girl in black.
[[Call Wilson, will be 20 minutes late. Fender bender.]] Leo texted to Victor.
[[Lying is a business tool?]]
[[Oui.]]
Leo leaned against the doorframe. The girl was strutting from one end of the stage to another. She settled onto the lone black chair on the stage and reached into her boot. She pulled out… what was it? Something silver. A flick of her wrist and Leo realized it was a butterfly knife.
She stood again, walking slowly to the far end of the stage. At the same time, she raised the knife to her wrist. A few people in the crowd gasped, but she didn’t cut herself. Instead, she drew the blade along her fishnet armband, and the little diamonds of thread popped apart, all the way up her arm. Then the other arm.
Music kicked in, a deep beat overlaid with a throaty, “Uhn uhn.” A man cheered when he caught the sleeve the girl threw, cleanly cut open.
The girl perched on the chair and spun around, scissoring her legs in the air. She pointed one toe, then stretched her knife out to touch the bottom lace of the boot. One long, slow stretch drew the blade down her leg. She turned to the other side and repeated the sinuous motion. Then, leaving the knife on the chair, she walked to the edge of the stage and motioned toward a pair of men. They stepped forward, and she set the heel of her boot in one man’s hand. She drew her leg out slowly, pretending to wobble and resting her hand on the other man’s head. Leo felt his cheeks burn as she ruffled the man’s hair. The man leaned in and kissed her thigh, and she rapped him on the nose, setting her flat foot on the ground. She pulled the second boot off herself, balancing easily on one foot as she raised the other behind her.
She retrieved the knife, then came to the edge of the stage again. She bent completely over, facing away from the audience, her ass receiving applause. The knife flashed at the lacy top of her thigh high. Without looking, she ran the blade down the back of her right leg. Each separation of the fishnet fibers pulled the stocking further apart and down her leg, until it was bare. Leo could see her red toenails. She turned toward the crowd and ran her hands slowly up her calf. Popping her left leg out to the side, she set one hand on her ass and ran the blade down her inner thigh.
Leo was mesmerized. The girl was hardly dancing at all, but he couldn't’ take his eyes away from her long fingers. He’d come several steps closer to the stage and couldn’t remember when he’d done it. His skin felt too tight, antsy with anticipation. The girl had little left to cut away.
She straddled the chair backwards, leaning her head down to touch the ground, running her hands across the shiny leather on her chest. She was like this, stretched all the way out, her face upside-down, when her eyes met Leo’s. Did she see him? He could’ve sworn she had, but who could tell. She flipped up again, sticking her ass out and twisting her hair up to give the audience a better view.
Then, quick as a flash, the blade appeared again, through the mass of black hair. A few sawing strokes, and the tangle of hair fell to the floor, a jagged bob left on the girl’s head.
The girl rose and turned. She set the blade between her breasts, resting on the X of laces atop her corset. Wolf whistles began again, and the girl raised her hand to encourage them. Finally she pressed down, and the top of the corset split apart. Each side of her breast was visible. She continued the rest of the way down in one long swoop, and the corset fell to the ground.
The girl wiggled, a long line of motion from her bare feet up to her full breasts. Her black string panties seemed incongruous against her pale skin. She ran the flat of the knife across her nipples, which pebbled with the cold.
Cheers threatened to drown out the song as the singer promised to die for someone. The girl raised the knife to her hip and cut one side of her panties. They dropped to the floor. As she stepped free, she kicked the panties into the audience. Leo thought a scuffle might have ensued, but he wasn’t going to look away to find out. The girl was bowing deeply, her breasts hanging low. She bowed to each side of the stage, then to the back of the stage, her asshole and a strip of pink visible.
Then she just walked off. Leo stared, not taking in the pair of girls in comically tiny janitors’ outfits who came onstage to sweep up the hair and collect the girl’s boots and corset.
He shook himself, and marched toward the exit. He headed to the back to gather Victor, cutting through the backstage hallway. A door opened and he swerved to avoid it. And there she was, impossibly tiny in bare feet and a pink silk robe.
His mouth was probably open as he stared.
She stood up straighter. “Next time you want to pull my hair, you’ll have to get a little closer,” she said.
Her eyes were brown.
“Ugh.” She pushed past him, around the corner to the dressing room.
At the end of the hall, Leo spotted Victor, his eyebrows so high they’d disappeared into his hair. “Is that our car trouble?”
“Shut up.”
***
In the car, Leo texted his sister. [[Who is she?]]
[[Cash]]
[[What?]]
[[That’s how I make out the checks.]]
[[Tell me the truth.]]
[[I did]]
[[Vala, we will have words!]]
[[Je t’aime, mon frère! Battery dying!]]
Leo ran his hands through his hair. “Shit.”
“What?”
“I still forgot the wine.”
ETA: Bonus picture.
