Saber collected his pants, smiling to himself. He fantasized about Ebony as he put his on his easily removable slacks. He left his shirt showing off his muscular torso. One lost their modesty quick in a strip club. The club beat with dance music that pulsed through his body. His own body hummed with expectation for the coming days. When he stepped out onto the main room floor a heavy hand dropped onto his shoulder. A chill of dread crawled up his spine. He turned around to see one of the Boss's security guards glowering his usual menace at him.
"Boss wants to see you," he paused for dramatic effect. "Now." Authority creased into the deepest frown on the security guard's face. None of them were good looking. None of them even gave their names. But Saber knew this one well as "Butch".
"Not that I'm busy or anything...," Saber grumbled. Did Alvis tell on him? He would. Just for spite. A small knot formed in his stomach as he took the familiar path to the back office, his footsteps heavy as if he was on his way to the guillotine.
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Damia was a red haired woman with diamond blue eyes in her early 40s. She had full C-cup breasts and a narrow waistline that tapered to a pert backside. Despite her age she was sexy and attractive. But her beauty was of the lethal, venomous kind. She could be cold and calculating. Sure she could imitate sweetness and consideration but Saber could detect the ruthless viper hidden beneath.
Saber steeled his nerves as he entered her office. She couldn't want sex. They had stopped having sex a year ago. He just assumed with relief that he wasn't one of her favorite boy toys anymore. Alvis seemed to occupy that status being 26. Damia loved the young bucks. Since Saber turned 32 she paid him less attention. But she was a possessive female. She didn't like seeing her exes happy.
She was wearing a silk emerald green blouse with a few buttons opened to reveal a generous amount of cleavage. Hugging her lower curves was a black pencil skirt. Nylon stockings with a pair of green pumps that made her shapely legs seem longer. Damia wore more make up to hide any wrinkles that botox didn't get rid of. When he stepped into her office her lush red lips stretched into a lazy Cheshire Cat smile that did not reach her icy blue eyes.
"Saber," she purred in her honeyed voice that cut a chill nonetheless with the help of her evil grin. The sound made the tiger shifter recoil inwardly. He held back a snarl.
"You wanted to see me?" Saber asked, appearing cool like her. Damia leaned back in her swivel chair like Snow White's queen on her throne.
"You had quite a night." It was more of a statement than a question.
"Did Alvis tattle on me?" Saber's face broke into a sardonic smirk managing to give a casual shrug of his broad shoulders.
"He doesn't take rejection too well," she shrugged elegantly herself. "But what I really meant was your performance in one of the champagne rooms." Her perfectly groomed eye brows lifted in curiosity. "You've never marked a client before. Why now?"
Saber froze. His muscles tightened with that fight or flight instinct. In his haze of lust he had forgotten that Damia had cameras in every corner of the club including the champagne rooms. Even now he could see the cold gears turning in her toxic mind.
"It slipped," he replied nonchalant though inside his stomach knotted. "It happens to shifters sometimes." He hoped he didn't give anything away. Damia was a perceptive female.
"Indeed...," Damia eyed him carefully. She was trying to crack into him and read all of his inner most secrets and feelings. Looking for the best way to make him hurt if she needed to in order to control him.
A lump formed in Saber's throat at her calculating stare. Damia suddenly eased her expression into a casual yet cunning smile. "I suppose you'll be seeing her again..." She left the last few words hanging in the air. Sometimes to strippers would go on "dates" with the clients. "As long as the club earns money I don't care what you do."
"Thank you, Mistress," Saber nodded, his whole body primed to bolt out of this room.
Damia's smile curved more at the title "mistress" that she insisted every employee address her as when in her presence. Saber was allowed to leave, a wave of relief washing over him allowing him to breathe again but when he turned the corner he saw Alvis looking smug, his arms crossed, his body casually leaning against the wall.
"Mistress whip you like you deserve?" he asked arrogantly.
"I seem to be walking upright with little trouble," Saber smirked back. To Saber's infinite delight the young tiger shifter scowled with hardened loathing, his handsome features sharpening into something unflattering. "Next time you tattle on me don't expect me to be so forgiving." Then he left before Alvis could form a retort.
Luckily Alvis was called into Damia's office from what Saber heard as he rounded a corner. Good. Now he could think about Ebony...
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