Lavender Tate fiddled with the tassel of the pastie attached to her left breast as she waited her turn to step on the stage.
Tonight, she was in the Yellow room at Prism, and the cheery dance pop music that surrounded her shook the floor thanks to a persistent bass line. She watched the woman before her, a larger woman who was nonetheless incredibly attractive, as she put on a show for the people at the tables. The woman strutted and swayed like an expert burlesque performer under the yellow lights that shone on the yellow tiled stage with the shimmering gold backdrop, and Lavender felt a lump in her throat from nerves even as the pulsing between her legs grew furious from desire.
He was out there in the crowd.
Her Chameleon. Her mystery man.
And she would put on a show for everyone, but especially for him.
After the previous night, when they'd fucked like animals in the middle of the dance floor of the purple room, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him. When she'd arrived back at her apartment, the thoughts had turned to an intense longing. She'd masturbated twice - in the shower and in her bed, her fingers serving as a poor substitute for him - before she'd been able to drift off to sleep haunted by steamy visions.
The small box he'd given her at the end of the night had contained what she was to wear for this evening in the yellow room - only two yellow pasties with golden tassels, and the tiniest golden thong she'd ever seen. Barely a string, the garment could barely even be called a garment, and she was glad she'd kept up her monthly wax appointments.
Lavender still didn't know who he was, only that she wanted him to fill her with the feelings she'd had the night before. If she had to go onstage and do dirty things in front of strangers to earn him again, she'd do it. Not that she minded doing things in front of strangers. The previous night she'd discovered she liked having all eyes on her.
"You ready, kitten?" The stage manager, who wore black leather and a headset, guided her toward the steps to the stage.
Lavender nodded. She was, indeed, ready. To prepare for the show, the staff at Prism had taken her to a store within the club where she could purchase any sort of sexual accoutrement she could want. Boldly, she'd selected a large pink dildo. It had caught her eye and called to her as something that could prove useful. While she still wasn't sure what she'd do with it, she knew she'd figure it out.
The music ended, and the crowd cheered loudly.
"Thank you, Cynthia!" The announcer bellowed.
"Next up we have a newcomer to the Yellow stage. Ladies and Gentlemen and Everyone else, please give it up for Lavender!"
Loud applause surprised her, and she took a deep breath. She waited until the music she'd chosen - "Circus" by Britney Spears - began before she entered the stage in darkness, walking on the highest gold heels she'd been able to find with only a day's notice. (Thank goodness for the trendy vintage clothing stores by the school she taught at.)
Before the lights came up, she could make out faces in the crowd. About fifty people - men and women alike - sat drinking at tables in various states of undress. She saw The Older Man from the night before, the one who'd watched her so openly, and she saw The Queen, dressed in a bright yellow wig and a gown of gold.
And she saw The Chameleon, sitting front and center still wearing his gemstone mask with the phallic nose.
She knew exactly what she wanted to do.
The lights came up right on cue, and revealed Lavender bent over with her ass aimed at the crowd. The audience broke into whoops and hollers as she smiled upside down at them through her legs, gave them a tiny wave, and then reached her hands back to part her firm cheeks even more. Her fingers on her cheeks, she began to sway her ass side to side to the beat of the music.
The Older Man nodded appreciatively, and immediately undid his pants to release his cock. He took it in hand and began to rub it slowly. Lavender knew she was doing things right.
Pushing her ass toward the crowd, she slid her thong down and let it fall to her ankles. Then, Lavender stood up and raised her hands high, shaking her ass at them in her best Shakira impression. Still shimmying, stepped from her thong and kicked it into the crowd as she turned to face them, letting them enjoy the way she made the tassels hooked to her breasts move. She jiggled and whirled and the tassels went in circles round and round, a dizzying display of delicious sexuality. Lavender squeezed her breasts, bounced them around, and enjoyed the whistles and whoops she got in return.
She liked putting on a show. She danced more, dropping her ass nearly to the floor and rising again, taking a few spins around the stripper pole in the middle of the stage, and wiggling like every backup girl in every sexy music video she'd ever seen.
It was the most fun she'd ever had.
But she wanted a partner. She ached for one, yearned for another's hands on her body.
She stepped forward and reached out a hand, not to The Chameleon, but to The Older Man. The Chameleon smiled at her action, and gestured to allow the Older Man to take the stage.
Lavender brought him onto the stage and gave him a little kiss. The man's hands went to the bare skin of her hips as he kissed her hard in return and sucked on her tongue for a moment. Reaching for the table, she picked up the dildo and handed it to him. His eyes sparkled as he held it the dildo next to his hard cock.
