Page 9 of Any Which Way

“Now, since we’re focusing on the basics tonight, we’re going to head back downstairs in just a few minutes to view a few performances together. But I wanted to at least give you a glimpse of the classrooms this evening since this is where the bulk of our activity will take place.”

Ryan leads us back to the main level of the club after a brief tour of the workroom and an even quicker introduction to Cypher, claiming if she didn’t hurry us along, the costume designer and stage manager would keep us with stories of the club all night.

She leads us to a cluster of small tables near the front of the stage. Draped in shimmering gold fabric over black tablecloths, ornate gold roses and flicking lights sit atop each one as if beckoning quiet lovers to share intimate moments between performances. And while the girls and I have been here for bands and live music several times, I make a note to bring them back for a burlesque show again sometime soon, even if it’s not me on stage.

“The first thing I’m going to ask you to think about tonight is exactly what you’re looking to get out of performing at Glittering Vices. Are you looking to learn to love and appreciate a body you’ve never quite felt comfortable in? Are you reclaiming a part of your soul that has long since been forgotten? Manytimes, that’s a great place to start when getting in touch with your burlesque persona. And while there are many facets to performing this particular type of artform, an amazing persona is an absolute non-negotiable. Now, a few students who are in my advanced classes have graciously volunteered to perform for you this evening in order for you to get an idea of the spectrum of creativity. So please, keep those questions in mind as you take in what they have been working on. And now, for our first performer of the night…”

As the last word leaves her mouth, the lights in the club dim, and the thick, velvet curtains of the stage part to expose a single person in the middle. Aside from feet, their entire body is obscured by feathers that have no worldly purpose being as large as they are. If it weren’t for the fact that they were stark white, I’d be slightly concerned the club was hiding a closet full of Muppet pelts somewhere, Big Bird being bludgeoned to bring this production to life.

A slow, bass heavy song fills the room as a spotlight illuminates center stage. It reminds me of something played at the dungeon, perfect to get into a good rhythm with my floggers. But here at Glittering Vices, I’m not supposed to be thinking of that side of myself.

I turn my attention back to the person on stage just in time to see the figure drop the feathered fans nearly as large as their body.

And I stare straight ahead, mouth suddenly bone dry.

Because it’s Brynn on stage in front of me.

Gone are the white feathers. My sweet, angelic Brynn looks like she’s been dragged through hell only to conquer it and become its ruler.

I’m fuckingherefor it.

My cock begins to thicken behind the denim of my pants. I watch with my hands clenched into white-knuckled fists,knowing I’d be kicked out if I dared to fist my cock and stroke myself to climax while my girlfriend danced on stage like a goddamn vixen. Glittering Vices isn’tthattype of club.

I’ve watched Brynn bottom at the dungeon more times than I can count. Eleri and I have taken turns with her, pushing her to give us orgasm after orgasm until she was a sobbing, sloppy mess. From the second she wakes up to the moment she closes her eyes—I’ve been there for both as well as every moment in between, yet I’ve never been as turned on by her as I am right now. So much blood has rushed south to my groin that I can’t even begin to fathom what she’s doing here… onstage. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remember her talking of dancing in her teens and early twenties. But this…fuck. This is hotter than anything I ever conjured in my mind.

Lips the color of a bold summer sangria stand out against her skin. Her normal slightly wavy hair is wild and unruly, and every inch of her body sans her face and hands are covered in a delicate black mesh. Hundreds, if not thousands, of various sized crystals reflect the spotlight like a disco ball. Larger gemstones clustered together to hide her breasts and the delicate place that rests between her thighs before radiating out over the remainder of her form in a deliberate yet sporadic pattern that accentuates every curve of her body. What looks to be fur covers her wrists and ankles, her bare feet nearly lost beneath the soft fabric.

Brynn becomes one with the music in a way that fully hypnotizes me. She teases in a way that’s playful while bordering on erotic, her body a tool that amplifies her performance. And I’m sure if I could tear my eyes from her body, the few other students in my class would also be staring.

But there is no fucking way I can make myself look away from her for even a nanosecond.

I expected all burlesque performances to involve some sort of campy striptease. For breasts to be in my face and tassel-covered nipples to be blowing in the breeze. But there is none of that with Brynn’s performance. Instead, it’s catlike in a way not much different than when we play pretend kitten at home.

Brynn crawls across the stage. She sways her thick hips, the gentle roll of her soft lower stomach sparkling with well-placed gemstones. I make a mental note to ask Cypher if they created this costume. If they did, I’m sure as fuck sending them a gift basket in thanks.

My girl uses the stage to her advantage, covering the space with a sensuality that has me craving the control she uses for the wide variety of moves. What would it feel like to have her execute that control over my body instead of our normal other way around?

Would she even want that?

Would Brynn and Eleri ever have the desire to top me together?

My mind continues to race throughout her performance.

And it doesn’t fucking stop for the rest of the night.

Being back on stage waselectric.

It had been years since I danced in front of anyone but casually for Eleri, yet when I saw the flyer for the workshops at Glittering Vices, a pang of longing hit I thought had long since been pushed aside.

And when Ryan showed as much enthusiasm for the idea of my somewhat impromptu performance after I explained I once took dance classes under her late mother’s tutelage over a decade earlier, I knew it was meant to be.

The entire experience filled me with such a renewed sense of joy that the energy still radiated through my system nearly three hours later. It was like being a kid on Halloween who ate all their candy within hours of coming home and tearing off their costume. I was practically bouncing when I walked in the door of our house.

I immediately knew I would return to dance at Glittering Vices again.

Truthfully, I think I knew it wouldn’t be my last time performing the second Cypher showed me the black catsuit thatmiraculously fit my body like a second skin instead of an off the rack extra often reserved for girls with short legs and just a little extra thickness around the waist.

Of course, my routine tonight had been rushed, something easy I remembered from my years of dancing and nowhere near perfected thanks to the very short rehearsal timeframe I had been given. But that wasn’t what tonight’s performance had been about.

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