After-Party

As the end of the night approaches seeing the bar is packed with familiar faces as opposed to the usual eclectic slew of strangers made for a refreshing change. As did being able to freely roam the bar in the company of the assembled crowd without the stress and demands of the usually associated with a Friday crowd.

I could grow to like the lifestyle.

To assume the bar was busy might have been a delusion of grandeur, the gathered party of 40 or so guests were all here to celebrate my 35th birthday. My brother Steve had organised the event although from one of two comments already passed by attendees and Shauna herself, I deducted that the flame haired little Irish Bar Maid had been the real tour de force in organising matters.

Not least as Steve's idea of buffet would probably constitute half a dozen cut up Sausage Rolls and a round of slightly stale sandwiches held at room temperature for an hour too long, as opposed to the well catered finger food that lay across 3 tables just off the bar.

Steve had played a part in convincing me to close up for the night. January takings we're always down given the post-holiday season slump. The third Friday of the month was far too shy of next pay packets for the majority. I'd been easily convinced in all honesty, even if the thought of beers and a curry with my brother wasn't the most inspirational way to celebrate. I was sure we could find entertainment somewhere within the City during a rare night off.

Under a pretence that he'd left a gift at the bar I'd grown marginally suspicious as we'd entered the bar a little after 8pm. Only to be greeted by a raucous collective shout of "Surprise".

'Who has a surprise 35th birthday?' had been my initial thought, the celebration had grown on me though, possibly assisted by the quantity of my own alcohol that was slowly being consumed.

As I look around, old friends and new mingled with one another creating a convivial atmosphere, all offset by a great playlist of classic dance tunes that a DJ connected to the bars own Sound System provided. The music a refreshing change from the usual guitar heavy music that I wasn't opposed to but held nowhere near as many memories from my younger days.

I look over not for the first time at the stunning DJ. didn't know, who she was I didn't know where she'd come from. What I did know is that she was visually breath taking. Her slender body swaying to her own soundtrack, I'd only seen her from the waist up, but I was captivated by the exotic looking brunette.

"Having fun Bruv?" I hear Steve enquire as he deftly approaches me from behind.

"I am... I am..." my attention distracted by the dark blonde-haired girl in a short black dress passes my line of sight not the first time without saying anything directly, she glances back with a knowing smile on every occasion none the less. I've never seen the male whose arm seems to permanently sit in the small of her back. I assume that he is her boyfriend.

"Who invited the Sales Rep from the Brewery?" I state leaning back into Steve so that he can hear over the music.

"Might have been me," Shauna offers passing at the exact same moment without stopping as she collects empty bottles and glasses, diligently working despite the relaxed nature of the evening.

"Why?" Stevie enquires over my shoulder as we both set eyes on her.

"Surprised to see her that's all.... Given the last time I saw her she had her skirt around her waist and was clutching the office desk crying out my name while willingly letting me take her in exchange for increasing our order of flavoured Vodkas." I bluntly answer as my mind casts back to the deliberately prolonged fuck I'd given her.

"That's why we've three fucking crates of Blood Orange infused Vodka behind the fucking bar." Steve chuckles.

"Short on her target apparently... worried she'd lose her job... I was naturally understanding."

"As she was obliging," Steve offers on a dark yet unbelieving chuckle.

"Stupid little fuck cow obviously doesn't appreciate how a sale or return contract works...but she knows how to suck and fuck her way through a negotiation... her fellas a lucky man."

I hear the DJ set come to an end as the lithe beauty takes a microphone and thanks the gentle ripple of applause she garners, that is genuinely no true reflection of her talent or the entertainment she's provided over the last few hours.

"Or he's unlucky... if she's putting out for every fucker that owns a bar around here." Steve offers, it takes me a moment to understand what he refers to given my fresh distraction by the DJ who has started to pack away already.

"Taking more pricks than a dartboard" I darkly chuckle my response. My eyes still on the DJ "Should I ask or just assume who booked the talent?"

"The talent?" Steve offers, it now apparently being my turn to confuse him.

"The stunning little brunette who's been spinning tunes all evening," I state still not looking back as she places a laptop into a shoulder bag and makes her way from behind the impromptu DJ Booth erected behind a number of pallets Steve must have brought up from the basement.

"All done on laptops these days Bruv don't go showing your age... no one spins records" I feel Steve's hand mockingly slap the back of my left shoulder, but he fails to distract me. "And I booked her... Her names Sapphie... I've seen her on Facebook."

"I'll bet you have," I offer casually as she cuts a path across the room, a black leather button through halter neck waistcoat covers her upper body but cuts low enough to reveal an impressive amount of cleavage, a short red and black pleated tartan skirt sits on her waist, exposing long toned legs that are clad in two tone nylon hosiery that gives an illusion of stockings, her lower legs sit within exquisite black leather knee boots.

I realise I've left my gaze on her for a little too long as her slightly olive skin flushes nervously as she approaches.

"Hey..." the brunette offers, "...I'm Saph you must be the Birthday Boy."

Clearing my throat I gather my composure, "That's what the badge says... not that I'm cliche enough for..."

She's caught me off guard, her looks her physique completely disarming leaving me muttering on about imaginary badges like a fucking idiot.

"You've had a good night?" She enquires not seeming to be perturbed by my lack of composure.

"I have," I offer, "Your set helped... old school my favourite... someone made sure you were well informed."

"They did," I note her flash a smoke towards Steve who I've slowly become oblivious of.

"You'll stay for a drink I hope," I continue.

"Thanks, but I can't hang around I'm afraid..." the pretty little brunette offered, "...Your party was just a warmup for me I'm booked to perform a set at some club called Servitu.... I've heard so much about the place I can't wait to experience it... I'm on just after midnight."

I look from her to my brother, raising a brow. Servitu was the rebranded premises formerly known as 'The Dark Star'. From Steve I look immediately over to Shauna, already diligently cleaning down the bar, I'm all too aware of the reputation the Club that she used to hostess at holds. It's a little surprising that still, after several years in the City, I've yet to visit the infamous location.

"Good luck with that," Steve offers from behind me.

I see her eyes fall to Steve now, not dismissively so but she certainly seeks his attention now over mine. A little vein in my temple pulses briefly before I hear her meekly state, "Um yeah ...can I get my payment?"

I smirk, more in relief than anything else, "Pay her Stevie ...and make sure you tip well... that set as I say was outstanding."

"Yeah uh..." Stevie stammers his way through the interaction, "Yeah uh let's go... let's go through to the office.... We'll grab you a drink on the way."

"Enjoy the rest of your evening," she offers on a sincere smile, I catch a sparkle in her light brown eyes just before she places a delicate hand on my left shoulder and leans forward and softly kisses my right cheek. "Happy Birthday you."

As Steve turns to lead the way, she passes me just as the main lights in the bar illuminate. A sure sign for all it is time to make their way home.

Under the brighter lights I'm only afforded a much better view of Sapphie's legs as Steve leads her away. Glancing up from the red souled spike heel boots, over toned nylon encased thighs to the cusp of her pert little ass that the pleated skirt just about covers. I feel the grin pass my lips.

Moments later a firm hand grips my hand and shakes it, "Thanks for inviting us... sorry we haven't really had chance to speak."

His words snap my attention from Steve and the beautiful little DJ. As I look him in the eye, I realise I've no idea who he is, despite the knowledge I've seen him across the night. It's only as I look to his left and recognise the angular yet attractive face of Leah the Brewery Rep that I place his face.

"Yeah, um Alan, Alex... Al..." I offer trying to genuinely claw a name from my memory.

"Aled," he states a little bluntly as I turn to face his pretty fiancée, in my mind hearing her little wanton gasps as I picture her again stretched across the office desk. I can still recall the taste of her perfect shaved pussy as she'd lay across the desk groaning as I had feasted.

"Sorry to talk shop but are you dropping by soon Leah?" I note her unease as I immediately choose to all but ignore him. "I need to review all our Spirits so there's potential for a big order by month end if you're interested."

I'm not sure if Leah Cooper reads between the lines on my intimation, and I'm not subtle enough to hide the wink I offer her, despite the presence of her well-built other half.

"Yeah um..." clearly flustered I catch her glance from me to him and back to me "...uh Tuesday... how's Tuesday morning?"

"Afternoon works better..." I offer with sincerity controlling the interaction even best part of four days in advance, "... I'll look forward to it."

As speak I look Leah up and down, considering how good she looks in the tight-fitting black dress before I turn back to him, Aled.

"Always drives a hard bargain does this one."

It is all I can do to keep the smirk off my face as he nods and smiles towards her stood diligently at his side.

The docile fucking prick has no idea.

A little over half an hour later base instinct is taking over, the bar is now empty of guests. A fleet of Taxis from the new rank opposite whisking everyone away.

I feel a little drained as I watch Steve over Shauna's shoulder poring two tumblers of whisky over single ice cubes.

"Thank you for helping him sort this tonight, I sense your touch over much of the night," I sincerely offer to the slender little red head, as we mutually release one another from a warm embrace, "You won't join us for a drink?"

"I've provided enough entertainment tonight have I not?" She playfully offers on her soft Irish accent.

"You make too many assumptions." I retort with a grin as I let her step away.

"When you've been tied up in as many compromised positions as I have by you two deviant fucking brothers... what do you expect?"

Various memories of her submissions flash through my mind, so often the willing little plaything who was willing to allow both Steve and I to abuse and use her petite pale body for our sordid gratification at the end of a night when the bar falls silent.

"Happy Birthday Boss," her slender right hand running around my neck as she pulls me close and I feel Shauna's lips press to mine, the kiss lingers for barely a moment I'm about to reciprocate her clutch, my right hand about to slip to the small of her back when she pulls away biting her lip on a wicked little grin. "I'll see you tomorrow birthday boy."

"Goodnight Shauna," I offer shaking my head silently, watching as she slips through the double doors into the dark night littered with the remnants of Friday night revellers. I diligently keep watching her as she skips in high heeled ankle boots across the street to the first of two waiting taxis, her arm raised to signal her intent.

The driver acknowledges her, and I turn away locking the front doors to O'Leary's before pulling down the last of the blinds, obscuring the now dimly lit bar from the outside world.

I head to back to Steve sat perched on a stool at the bar as he holds out a glass of dark amber liquid.

"I should raise a toast to you little Bruv I guess ...even on the occasion of my birthday"

"You won't... and you don't need to" Steve offers, neither of us being much for sentiment, a biproduct of our grim upbringing. To punctuate the lack of warmth Steve facetiously looks at his watch, tapping the glass face without referencing that the time and date now, silently indicate it's technically no longer my birthday.

Without another word I take the glass of Whisky he offers me, clinking my glass to his I offer Steve little more than a knowing nod and a smirk that says more than any brief or protracted words on our relationship, and our history ever could. Following suit Steve simply raises his glass a little before in unison we sink the harsh drinks. Immediately I feel the warmth and burn as the liquid slips down my gullet.

Steve clears his throat, "There's one last surprise though..." he offers his voice dry from the harshness of the vintage whisky. "...One last present... if you'll follow me."

Setting his tumbler upon the bar Steve heads to the side of the bar passing through the door embellished with a brass sign reading 'Staff Only'. Watching as he unlocks the door that sits beyond I'm immediately intrigued and wondering what he has back here that he'd need to lock the door to protect.

Following him along the narrow corridor littered with the excess boxes of flavoured Vodkas to be returned to the Brewery I follow him into the small admin office, suspecting he's heading to the safe.

Entering the office all becomes clear with an immediate rush of adrenalin.

"Fuck me you didn't did you?" I offer excitedly and making little sense, my mind whirring on the possibilities the rest of the night now held.

"I fucking did," Steve offers on a broad grin.

Sat in the black leather swivel chair her upper body slumped forward lay across the desk littered with paperwork, unopened mail and dirtied coffee cups is the unmistakable form of the beautiful DJ who'd spent the night entertaining the gathered friends and associates. My minds already racing on how she'll entertain us for the remainder of the night, not even caring for the detail of how she comes to be here.

I turn to Steve who holds in his hand a little plastic bottle of liquid that I instantly recognise, and in-turn fully explains her incapacitation. A grin spreads across his face I hear his words as I reach out and lift her lifeless upper body from the surface of the desk by her hair.

"Right about now .... Servitu are finding themselves short of a DJ for the night".

**********

"You sure you didn't use too much of that shit"

"She's still breathing, isn't she?" Stevie bluntly answers.

The pair of us stand over her, admiring his capture and my handiwork. Between us we had carried her limp body back into the main bar with ease. The set up couldn't have been any easier given her oblivious part in proceedings.

I'd darkly observed the pallet she now lay across that Steve had unwittingly brought up into the main bar from the basement to form the. rather crude, temporary DJ booth or rather obscure the table that she had operated from.

Now lifted onto a solid square dark wooden table she, Sapphire Miller as her Drivers licence plucked from the little black shoulder bag she stored behind the records her name, lay across the pallet held in the grip of an effective restraint.

I'd worked diligently to secure her fully clothed form, looking down now across her unbelievable body pinned to the surface of the rough pallet. Her arms secured parallel to her shoulders a cable tie pulled tight securing her upper arms to her wrists. Similarly, long thick industrial strength cable ties hold her legs bent at the knee with her boot clad ankles tied to her against her toned thighs. Four thin strips of tough plastic that hold her for the time being in an inescapable frog tie.

The beautiful DJ further incapacitated by the manner in which her knees are further held parallel to her stomach by a length of black nylon rope tied through the cable ties effectively holding her legs back towards her chest. The rope then fed through the silver steel eyelets that are countersunk deep into the wooden pallet along its four sides. The single length of nylon rope weaves around the edge of the pallet through and around her bound forearms before wrapping around her slender neck three times and mirroring the effective restraint down her left hand side, her head hangs over the far end of the pallet as I look down on her ass perched over the opposite edge of the pallet.

"I don't want to fuck her unconscious." I all but sneer at Steve who stands opposite of me, having watched as I'd tied her lifeless body onto the pallet.

"Let's bring her round then." Steve offers and before I can enquire how he demonstrates.

Picking up a near full bottle of lager left on one of the bars tables he stands back over her, tipping the bottle through ninety degrees and spilling the contents all over her face.

Her gasp fills the bar, her eyes flicker open then shut tight as the beer spills across her face into her open mouth, causing eye makeup to run immediately. She attempts to move to escape the liquid as Steve drains the bottle over her. The reality of the grip of her restraint brings a fresh panic, a new reaction.

The combination of the nylon rope and the cable ties hold her in an effectively I'm pleased to observe. Her arms and legs pull in vain as she struggles unable to gain any genuine movement.

"What... what the...," she splutters through wet lips her hazel brown eyes wide now, her anxiety and confusion etched across her beautiful face as she raises her head from where it rests over the edge of the pallet "Where...where the fuck?"

"Welcome back to the party DJ Sapphie," I coldly state as I step between bound nylon and leather boot clad legs. "Well... welcome to the after party."

Reaching out I press my hand firmly between her parted legs, through the sheer nylon I can see she wears no underwear, and the outline of her delicate plump little pussy lips are clearly visible through the sheer denier hosiery, I run my thumb over her through the nylon, causing her to further test the abrasive restraint.

"What do you want... what do you want?" the young DJ frantically enquires.

"It's not about what I want", I press my thumb further against her feeling her lips part through the flimsy material. "It's what we are going to take."

"We?" comes her immediate exasperated reply.

"Yes we," Steve confirms setting down the empty bottle and stepping up to her right-hand side.

Her head immediately snaps towards Steve as he speaks, shaking her head as she turns it back towards me as she pulls with all her might once again against her unforgiving restraint, "No this... This isn't happening... this isn't happening?"

"Oh, it's happening..." as I speak my left hand joins my right gripping the black nylon gusset of her stocking effect tights. With ease I tear open the material to reveal her to me. "...I've been patiently waiting for you to wake Sleeping Beauty... so if you'll excuse me I won't be waiting any longer."

"Don't... Don't do this..." she frantically begs "...Don't you fucking dare."

Furiously now she struggles, yet to appreciate how futile her efforts truly are. As she struggles, I ease down my zipper. Her head thrashing, her hands clenched held up across her shoulders. Steve steps forward and unposed starts to unbutton the first of four black buttons that hold her black leather waistcoat tightly across her body, her chest rising a falling on frantic breath as she struggles.