Stronger
With Her
Strength
Series #2
Copyright
© 2015 JA Hensley
All
rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no
part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a
retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written
permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents
are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various
products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without
permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized,
associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
The following story contains mature themes, strong
language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.
Chapter 1
28 days ago
James
“Hey, Runt, get your fucking ass out here!”
I
shake my head and laugh to myself. No matter how big I get, my brothers will
always call me Runt. I’m the youngest of five, so I was the runt of the litter.
I was smaller than all of them for most of my life, too. Things changed after I
turned eighteen but the name stuck.
“I’m
coming. Keep your pants on,” I reply as I walk into the garage. My oldest
brother, John, has his head under the hood of my mom’s car. He’s got tools all
over the floor and his hand deep in the engine.
“Pick
up that ratchet and put a half inch socket on it,” he said without looking up.
I got it for him.
“You
didn’t say please.” Standing next to him, I hold the tool just out of his
reach.
“Please,”
he replies, drawing out the word and using a squeaky voice.
“Ah,
how could I resist when you’re being so sweet.” I laugh as I give him the tool.
I watch as he finishes up with the car. John and I have always had a close
relationship. He’s been the one who looked out for me and made sure I didn’t
get picked on too much growing up.
“Thanks,
man. I think I’ve got it taken care of now. We’ll see how long it takes for Mom
to break it this time.” He shakes his head. She’s notorious for being hard on
her cars; always knocking the radiator loose or breaking a wheel. I swear she
thinks she’s a race car driver.
“I’m
going to guess it won’t be very long,” I say, slapping John on the back. I help
him put everything away.
“What’re
you doing tonight, Runt? Got big plans?”
“Not
really. It’s Paul’s birthday, so I guess a bunch of us are going out. Probably
end up at The Shady Sprocket since that’s all Paul ever wants to do.”
“Ah,
The Shady Sprocket. Do they still have the free buffet on Friday nights? If I
remember right, they had the best chicken wings in the area,” he says with a
big smile.
“I’m
not sure about that since I don’t make a point to go there very often. Wanna
come with us?” John’s always looking for a reason to avoid his wife.
“Nah,
but thanks. Lindsey’s got her bunko group tonight so I’ll have the house to
myself. I’m looking forward to sitting in my chair watching whatever the hell I
want on TV.”
“Well,
you enjoy yourself,” I say as I make my way into the house. “I’ve got to get a
shower and get out of here.”
“Don’t
do anything I wouldn’t do, little bro,” he yells over his shoulder as he walks
to his truck. I shake my head and close the door.
“Did
John leave without saying goodbye?” my mother asks from the living room.
“Yes,
he did, Ma. He said he was going to enjoy an evening alone in his house. He got
your car fixed. You should probably take it easy, though. He’s going to get
tired of being your personal mechanic.” I smile at her.
“I’m
not that bad and he loves helping his momma. All my boys do.” She laughs
because she knows that all of us would do anything for her. That’s probably why
I still live with her. She hates to be alone.
“You’re
right, Ma. I’ve got to go get cleaned up. We’re going out for Paul’s birthday
party tonight.”
“All
right, sweetie. Be sure you let me know when you leave.”
“Will
do,” I say as I head up the stairs to take a shower.
************
When
you walk into The Shady Sprocket, the first thing you’re hit with is the smell.
It’s difficult to describe. Something like desperation and false bravado mixed
with sweat and grease. It’s truly a unique experience. After the assault on
your olfactory, your vision is hit with colored blinking lights that dance
around the room with the music that blares at levels higher than eleven. It’s
the complete opposite of the rest of my life. Unfortunately, it’s Paul’s
favorite place to go.
We
make our way to the table that’s reserved for us right next to the stage. Of
course it is. Paul grins like a kid in a candy store. It’s pathetic, really.
Aren’t we supposed to be grown men?
“This
place just gets more disgusting every time we come back,” I say out loud.
“What
the fuck are you talking about, Runt?” Paul fires back. “This place is the
fucking bomb! The absolute best place to celebrate. Right, boys?” He high fives
Brandon and Ryan who grin back.
“What
you need is some tits in your face and your dick in a pussy. That’ll get you
out of that foul mood,” Ryan says as he slaps me on the back. I punch him in
the arm with a smile. Before it goes any further, the waitress comes over.
She’s dressed in the standard uniform here: shorts that barely cover her ass
and a bikini top. She smiles at us and I can see spaces where she’s missing
teeth.
“What’ll
ya’ll have tonight, fellas?” she asks as she bends over to put napkins on the
table, giving Paul a really good look at her tits.
“Shots.
We need shots of tequila,” Paul states, not looking at her face. I groan
knowing that this night is not going to end well.
“Comin’
right up,” she says as she walks away, wiggling her ass.
“Now
that’s something that would definitely cheer you up, James,” Ryan says. I shake
my head and start to reply but the DJ interrupts me.
“Next
up, we have the lovely Lexie Jade and in about twenty minutes Vixen will be
taking the stage. Lexie Jade to the main stage, please.”
Paul’s
head pops up like a prairie dog. “Vixen’s dancing tonight? This is going to be
the best night ever!” he yells as the waitress sets down the tequila shots.
Now,
I’m not against seeing a woman work a pole. On the contrary, I just get tired
of wasting my money for nothing, you know? If I’m going to spend money on a
woman, I want to have a nice meal and conversation. Not have her press her tits
in my face and grind on my lap for five minutes and then moving on to the next
guy.
“Here’s
to great friends and lots of tits,” Paul shouts as we all down our shots. Ugh,
I hate tequila. I flag a waitress and order a beer. Anything but more shots.
The
guys continue their drinking and eye fucking every woman who dances in front of
them. Brandon buys Paul a double lap dance from Kitten and Burgundy and I swear
the guy comes in his pants. I start to get up to take a piss when the DJ comes
on the sound system again.
“Now
coming to the main stage is The Shady Sprocket’s very own Vixen!” Paul turns
around, practically jumping out of his seat to get closer to the stage. I shake
my head and sit back down, effectively moving as far away from the stage as
possible. If Paul’s excitement is any indication of how this girl is, my
bladder will have to wait so I can watch him make an ass of himself.
All
the lights dim as the spotlight focused on the curtains at the back of the
stage. The opening chords of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” are blaring
through the speakers and I roll my eyes at the cliché song. Every stripper uses
this one at some point. The curtains open and this tiny woman wearing platform
heels, a black leather halter top and the tiniest skirt with zippers up both
sides that barely covers her ass slinks out from backstage.
To
be fair, everyone is tiny compared to me but she can’t be taller than five and
a half feet without her stripper shoes. Walking slowly and seductively up the
stage, looking at the men like she wants to eat them, she stops at the pole,
leans her back against it and slides down to the floor. She humps the floor a
couple times, bounces up to her feet, reaches behind and pulls herself up the
pole. She spins around slowly and as she does she slides down, ending in the
splits. This routine continues for the duration of the song, all the while men
are throwing money at the stage and vying for her attention while she takes her
clothes off, leaving her in just heels and the tiniest black thong on earth.
Just
as the song reaches the bridge, she looks directly at me. I find that I can’t
look away, like there’s something holding my gaze to hers.
With
long black hair, sparkling blue eyes, and plump red lips begging to be kissed,
she’s beautiful. There’s no denying it but it’s something else. I watch her on
the stage, twirling on the pole and she looks . . . happy. Most
of the women in here look bored, like they’re trying to imagine themselves
anywhere else. This woman, however, is smiling and enjoying herself; showing
off her gorgeous tits as she hangs upside down, sliding toward the stage
slowly. My friends have been dragging me here for years and I’ve never seen
anything like it. Obviously, neither have the rest of these men who are going
crazy. I can’t believe the sight in front of me of grown men practically
crawling over each other to get closer to the stage.
The
bouncers must hate this. My friends are in the thick of the crowd and I shake
my head. Being over six three, I don’t have any problem watching the show from
where I am. Def Leppard continues to blare out the speakers and she moves
perfectly with the music. She’s really good and she knows it, teasing and
wiggling just enough to keep the dollar bills floating to the stage. Why have I
never seen her before and why can’t I take my eyes off her? I feel like I’m
under some sort of spell, drawn in by a force I can’t explain but not wanting
to fight it at all. It’s not lust, it’s something else.
She
smiles and winks at me just before spinning one more time to land on the floor
in the splits as the music comes to an end to the loudest cheers
I’ve ever heard in here. This girl knows what she’s doing.
The
volume of the crowd is deafening as they chant, “Vixen! Vixen!” It
takes two men to help her pick up all the money on the stage but she walks slowly around the stage lifting
the bills and giving everyone a little bit more attention. I follow her every
move, unable to look away. When she finally makes her way backstage, the spell
is broken and I feel like part of me is missing. What the fuck is that about? I throw back the shot that has
apparently been waiting for me and shake my head to clear it.
“What
a fine piece of ass she would be,” Ryan says. The guys all chime in their
agreement but I want to punch him in the face.
“What’s
wrong now, Runt? You look like someone just kicked you in the nads,” Paul yells
across the table.
“Who
was that?” I ask, not sure how to describe what I’m feeling right now.
“Dude,
have you been living in a fucking cave? That’s Vixen,” Paul replies. “You need
to get out more.”
“By
get out more, you mean come to the strip club and waste my hard-earned money?”
“I
mean live a little, man. You’re too serious. Plus, here you get to see tits
without the song and dance of a date. Am I right?” He lifts his hand for a high
five but I don’t reciprocate.
“Are
you kidding me? You’re ridiculous.”
“Whatever,
dude. You’re old before your time. Why do you have to act like you’re married?
We’re in the prime of our lives and you’re acting like my father,” he says
walking away from me.
I
think strangling him for that comment. I’m nobody’s father, not anymore.
************
Vixen
The
crowd tonight was insane. Trevor and Brock help me get everything off the stage
and bring it to the back. I’m not a regular employee so I don’t really have a
space for my stuff. I do have a small locker so I get it open and pull my bag
out.
“You
did good, Vixen. Quite the haul tonight. Glad to have you back,” Trevor says as
he drops my money and my costume on the counter.
“Thank
you, sweetie. It felt good to be back out there. I know the other girls are
pissed though.” It makes me sad that they hate me. If they only knew the truth,
they’d change their tune but I don’t say a word. It’s better to just do my
thing and get out quickly before the cat fights begin.
“Fuck
those bitches. They can work for it just like you do,” Trevor says as he pulls
me into a strong hug. “Let me know when you’re ready to go and I’ll walk you to
your car.”
“Thanks.
Give me ten,” I say to his back as he walks out of the dressing room.
Once
I’m alone, I start the process of taking off all the makeup and getting
dressed. I slip my six inch platforms into my bag. They’re my favorite shoes,
with rhinestones across the top and sparkly jewels in the heel. It probably seems crazy to go through all
this for one dance, but it’s the one thing I look forward to as a stress
reliever. Not many people say that they
look forward to the night they get to take their clothes off and dance for
strangers, I’m sure. My friends would kill me if they knew this was how I spend
an occasional Saturday night. This is for me and only me.
I
finish removing my wig, contacts, and makeup, finally getting back to my
natural light brown hair and green eyes. Most of this is to make me look like
someone else so I can’t be recognized. I change into yoga pants and a long
hooded sweatshirt. After adding flip flops, I make my way to the front of the
club to find Trevor. He’s my favorite bouncer here. He gets it that we’re here
to do a job. He doesn’t ever hit on me or make me feel bad about stripping. It
also doesn’t hurt that he’s well over six feet tall and built like a brick
wall. He’s the big brother I never had and I always feel safe when he’s working.
I’ve
almost made it to the door when I see him arguing with a guy in one of the
groups by the stage. It’s the big guy with the captivating eyes and beard
covering most of his face. I noticed him when I was on stage and I felt a pull.
He’s different than the rest of them; like he didn’t want me to do what I was
doing. Most men look like cartoons with their tongues hanging out and their
eyes bulging from their heads. This guy was giving off a protective vibe and I kind
of liked it. Probably a little more than is good for me. I shake my head and
look up to see Trevor looking between me and the guy, keeping a hand on his
chest. They’re about the same size, so a fight would not be good. I pull my bag
higher up on my shoulder and walk out the door, making sure I don’t look back
one more time, but waiting for Trevor to meet me outside.
“You
okay, babe?” Trevor asks as we cross the well-lit parking lot.
“Yeah.
Why, what have you heard?” I joke.
“Just
noticed the look on your face when you saw that guy on your way out. Do you
want me to find out about him?” He takes the keys from my hand as we get to my
car.
“No,
thanks. He just seemed like a dolphin in a sea of sharks, you know? I’m sure
it’s just my lack of sleep that’s affecting my judgment.” I put my bag in the
back seat.
Trevor
pulls me in for a hug, which is really smashing my face in his pecs. At five
foot five, I’m at least nine or ten inches shorter, so it’s kind of an awkward
position.
“You
know all you have to do is ask. Now, get home safely and I’ll see you next time
you decide to come out.” He kisses the top of my head, and once I’m settled in
the driver’s seat, he hands me the keys and closes the door.
I
get the radio going before I drive away. It was a fairly successful night for
everyone. Now, if I can get mystery guy out of my head it will be even better.
