(Another LONG post...but well woth the read, I think. Honest opinions welcome, and rate it as you will. I'm quite proud ;>)
Lola woke before Deshan, and gazed at him for several minutes from her perch in the crook of his arm. It amazed her, what she'd done last night. Even more amazing was the fact that this man - a man that he'd have had nothing but contempt for in his former "Jon" life - could be his knight in shining armor...and his beloved to boot.
She smiled at that image, and slipped a hand between her thighs to massage the warm, moist slit that Sarah had given her. Her cunt. Her cunny. Her slit. Her pussy. 24 hours ago, she'd have sworn that it would have never been used for anything other than urination. But this man...this big, brutal-looking black man...had been so nice to him. He didn't have to be. Deshan could have been the most brutal of movie-pimp stereotypes, all "Bitch betta have mah money!", and she'd still have had to do what he wanted. Instead what she found was a big, gentle teddy bear of a man. A man who treated her fairly and decently, and who'd been concerned for her when he'd found out about Sarah's hold over her...
("An', if I was to go to this Sarah's house...an' blow her fuckin' head off...what would you think?")
Jon's nipples went hard as diamonds as she remembered those words. They were the sort of words that she'd have dismissed as generic "Bad guy" words in her former life. But she'd changed, now. She'd been transformed from an intelligent young man with his whole future ahead of him AND a magic stone that gave him the sort of power to ensure that glorious future...to a huge-breasted, balloon-bottomed sexual cartoon, trapped forever in a life of dancing and exploitation. She'd read stories like this when she'd been a he, and had been amused or excited by the tales. This was the sort of empty, jack-off fantasy that he'd thrilled to when reading on the BEAdd, Choose-your-own-Change, Super Stories or Fiction Branches. Living that change though...was different. Her future was a sea of walls and limitations, where she'd never be taken seriously, nor her opinions respected, and no man would think of her as anything but a cock cozy to slip his dick into...
She looked at Deshan again. His hard, muscled body...his chest rising and falling with his breathing...his basically low class yet decent nature. He could have been a bad guy...instead he was her hero...her lover...her guardian and protector. She'd given herself to him in a moment of spiraling depression, where her attitude had been "I might as well get this over. I might as well accept my fate.", but after she'd sucked him off...
But then...
("An', if I was to go to this Sarah's house...")
...he'd said those magical words...
("...an' blow her fuckin' head off...")
...and she'd given herself to him. She'd surrendered to her fate...and had sex as a woman for the first time.
("...what would you think?")
"I think I love you, Deshan." she whispered, as she thought about it. Had she actually imagined that her silly beat-off sessions in front of Jon's computer had been sex? That one time that Karyn and he had explored each other, fumbling through a meek and tentative session of touches, gropes and muttered "I'm sorry"s while the huddled in the dark. That hadn't been SEX. Perhaps it had been (sex), but certainly not SEX. All in Capital Letters and blaring from the speakers of the Grande Image' theatre like an Ian-Fuckin'-McKellen Gandalf shouting "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" at the Balrog as he defends the bridge!
"But, I love the Balrog." she whispered, ash she looked up at the black man. Her black man. The man who she'd given herself to. The Balrog who she'd had let across her bridge, invited into her castle, and had thundered up and down her halls while she giggled and moaned...but (and this is the key) who WOULDN'T have done so...if she hadn't invited him. He wasn't a rapist or a brute. He was...
"He's my prince. My protector. Oh, man...some day...he'll be my husband."
She rolled over, and stood - tiny and vulnerable - before her sleeping Balrog. He was beautiful in the half-light of the late morning that barely slanted in through the closed curtains. She looked down at him, and her pussy started to get slippery as she thought of those shuddering climaxes that he'd brought her. She could see his huge cock, clearly defined under the sheets in a state of semi-erection, and she wondered if he was thinking of her. Dreaming of her.
She slipped on a pair of red panties and turned to go to the bathroom...and saw that Deshan had an iPod. She picked it up off the dresser(her 2-inch long, red nails clacking on the plastic case) and inspected the play list. As she'd expected...mostly hip-hop, rap and R&B; tunes.
She set the play function to a loop of her favorite dance songs, put the ear buds in, and tuned it on, slipping the iPod into her panties. Just as the previous night...the sound of the driving beat in her head...had an effect on her body. She started to shift and prance as the pulsing, throbbing music took her in it's hands and set her to dance. She couldn't resist the urges, and didn't want to...ever! She shifted and spun, swirling and spinning one moment, then grinding and peeking cutely over her shoulder at an imaginary crowd men...who were all Deshan. She wished he was awake to take her, but she didn't want to wake him up yet. After all, she only had to bounce and prance cutely on a stage for a few hours. Any girl could do that. But Deshan had seven clubs to watch over, checking the books to make sure nobody was skimming, keeping his boys and girls in line, and running an operation that Jon hadn't imagined was so complex. He had actual duties to perform...and he needed his sleep.
Instead she pranced into the bathroom...turned off the iPod just long enough to pee and brush her teeth...then back to her dance. She gyrated into the kitchen, and (after checking the fridge) decided to make breakfast. Jon had been a reasonably good cook of simple dishes, and Lola decided to toss together an omelet. She took out the eggs, grated some cheese into a bowl, and whisked the eggs till they were foamy. She did this while dancing in place, the music too loud for her to notice that Deshan was watching her from the doorway into the bedroom.
He watched as she pranced and skipped about, setting up a tray she'd found with a plate, napkin and silverware, between checking on how her eggs were cooking, flipping the omelet and hovering over her work till it was ready for folding. Then - as cute as a kitten in an Easter basket - Lola went back to prancing around as she ate her eggs, and prepared two more omelet's for Deshan.
Deshan smiled at all this. It was cute as all get out, and the obvious fact that she was preparing him breakfast in bed - something he'd never had unless he was sick and his mother was fussing over him - made him smile. Finally he walked quietly towards her (she was still dancing, and didn't notice him) and stood in the kitchen door...
She turned and saw him...mouth full of eggs and cheese, a dab of grease on her cheek and chin...and she gasped. He smiled at her...she blushed and flipped the last omelet, saying "I was...um..."
"I Can guess what you was doin', girl. Tha's sweet."
He kissed her on the cheek, and she giggled as he poured himself some milk and tucked into the eggs.
"Mmmm. Good, Lola." he said, and Lola giggled and pranced in place while he ate. He watched her, pleased that she was obviously focused on him. It was a new experience for him, as the bitches he'd known most of his life were only wantin' to do shit for him if they felt they had to apologize for somethin' they'd done, or wanted him to buy them somethin'. But Lola...was so bright an' sweet an' fresh...that she was obviously jus' tryin' to please him. She wanted him to be happy, period. It was cool havin' a girl do this shit for you.
Then he paused in his eating, and remembered what he'd said last night. Some girl named Sarah McMillan was shakin' her down for every last penny she had. She was just doin' this so's he'd kill Sarah for her...
...was she?
Lola looked at him, and in those eyes, he saw a devotion and love that he'd never seen outside of a dog or a little kid. No. She wanted him to kill Sarah, but that wasn't the reason for all of this. She was doin' this, 'cause she liked him. Because she was jus' the kinda girl who did shit like this for her man.
What would that be like? Wakin' every day to this fine, sweet girl in bed next to him? He was maybe ten years older than him, but that didn't matter to either of them. He was black, but she didn' seem to care, and he'd always had a taste for white pussy. She was...perfect for him. She loved him, needed him a lot more than he needed her (an important consideration when shackin' up with a bitch), and he'd been good to her when she wasn't doin' anythin' but strippen' in his clubs. Last night was the first night that they'd done anythin' but talk.
And she was good at that too. Lola was a smart, funny girl, who wasn't jus' tits an' ass. Those were important enough, but they wasn't all. She could talk with him before an' after sex, askin' his opinions about somethin' and answerin' with her own. She disagreed with him on some things, but she didn't bust his chops over it. Jus' shakin' her head and sayin' she felt different...than letting it drop. That was unusual for a bitch as well.
He finished his eggs, and she took off his iPod. He asked "You didn' tuck that into yo' buttcrack, did you?" and she laughed and squealed like it was the funniest joke in the world.
Then...she slid to her knees before him, and asked "So...you in th' mood for a happy endin', Deshan?" as she took his cock in her hands...and massaged it to erection.
The trip to the club was unexpected. They didn' open for hours yet, but after she'd sucked him off...they both felt they should go to the club. It was like a compulsion that they couldn't refuse.
"It's Sarah..." Lola moaned, wriggling and moaning to the music in his car. "...she's got my magic stone, an' I'll jus' bet she's wishin' me to th' club 'cause she wants to see me. What's to gloat as I dance for her."
"That's crazy..." he said, though he couldn't stop driving. He'd intended on checking on two of his other club today, but he couldn't stop driving to "Phantasia" no matter what he tried. He was powerless to resist.
They pulled up in front of Phantasia, and Lola saw that a brand new red Ferrari was parked out front. Lola could guess who'd driven it here...and she moaned in horror. She was just starting to settle into her new life - to adapt herself to these changes - and for all she knew, Sarah would see her and decide she was too happy. By tonight, Lola might just be walking the streets as a cheap prostitute. She didn't think she'd be lucky enough to find another man like Deshan again, and she started to cry.
They entered the club, and Deshan thought about the pistol in his car. He hadn't remembered in time.
One of his older guys...a fat, black man in his mid-50's named Bubba Skeets who swept-up and did some pre-open cleaning and ordering for the club, jerked a thumb towards the stage, saying "A girl waitin' fer yah, boss. I let'er in an' gave her a drink on th' house."
"Why?"
Bubba just look back at him, then rubbed his head. "I don' know, boss. She jus' say's it, an' I does it right quick. Say's she wish ah open th' door, then wish I gives her a drink, then wishes I turn on th' stage lights for her. She say she gotta special, private sho ta' watch tonight, an' Lola gonna dance fo' her. Ain' tha' fucked up, Deshan?"
Lola didn't wait. Deshan saw the girl (a little, blond cheerleader-type in some Gap threads, sittin' in HIS club an' orderin' HIS staff aroun' like he wasn't nothin' at all!), as she raised her hand to her lips and mouthed some words. She was smiling as she did so, but not looking in their direction. She was watching them in the wall-mounted mirrors behind the stage. While Deshan watched, Lola stiffened up, then strolled down to the stage as neat as you pleased. The girl said somethin' again, and the music suddenly blared into life. Lola started dancing, obviously not wanting to but unable to control herself. She started to strut out to center stage, boobs and butt swinging in time with the beat, then she posed, pivoted her hips, and spun in a circle, sliding down to all fours and doing this cat-think that always drove him wild. She glanced at hi once, then focused all her attention on Sarah, dancing for her. Strutting and grinding her hips for her. Doing just what she wanted like a puppet on a string.
Deshan didn't know what to do. He felt the mojo in the air - believed in his hart what Lola had said about a magic wishing stone - but wasn't sure what to do. Attack the bitch? He had a clear idea that if he went down there right now, he'd end the night as a big-titty stripper in his own club, and Bubba Skeets would be HIS boss! That wasn't an' option...
So he watched the show. Watched as Lola - who was easily the most skilled dancer in any of his clubs - danced for Sarah.
When it was over, Sarah clapped her hands, saying "Bravo, 'Lola'! What an excellent stripper you are! And so well suited to a life on the stage! So tell me...are you ready to move from stripping and lap dances to blowjobs and fucking yet?"
Lola smiled at that - which it was plain that Sarah hadn't expected - and she said "I already did, Sarah. Last night. You know how I woke at the managers house? Well, Deshan said I owed him somethin' for th' room...so he took my cherry last night. Didn't you, Deshan?"
Sarah turned to Deshan, a smile playing on her lips. "Did you DO that to this poor-poor girl, Deshan? Let's get a look at you, shall we?"
Deshan was compelled to walk down to the stage and let he inspect him. She poked and prodded him in a way that pissed him off, but he couldn't seem to stop her. Still, he could guess what Lola had meant with this. It allowed him to get closer to the bitch without being obvious about it. Finally, she said "Looks like a prime specimen, Lola. So, this buck nigger is your 'lover', huh? I wish you'd show me what that was like."
A bed - HIS bed - suddenly appeared on stage, and the two of them were in it. Deshan wanted to strangle the little cunt for callin' him a "Buck nigger" in his own club, a club he'd bought and built himself without having to wish for it. He suddenly guessed that Lola was maybe someone who'd been changed by Sarah (which explained some things), and that Sarah'd come down specifically to rub her face in it.
But, that was neither here nor there. They had fucking to do.
Bubba watched as his boss and that sweet slice-of-pussy 'Lola' rolled and bounced in bed, obviously for this girls amusement. The girl...with that stone she whispered to. Well, no longer just whispered to.
"I wish you'd take her in the ass."
"I wish you'd eat each other out. Yes, 69 style. Yes, that's right."
"I wish you'd suck him off, again,"
"I wish you'd cum in her face."
"I wish you'd piss on her face to clean her off."
Over and over again they humiliated themselves for her, with Lola taking the worst of it. Finally, Sarah said "Well, that was pleasant. Now, I was monitoring you two last light, Lola...And I WISH DESHAN WOULD REPEAT WHAT HE SAID THAT PISSED ME OFF SO MUCH!!!"
Deshan turned to Lola, and said aloud "An', if I was to go to this Sarah's house...an' blow her fuckin' head off...what would you think?" while his shocked face contorted in horror! Sarah'd known all along!
"A very interesting thing to say. And, how did you reply, Lola?"
Lola was crying now. Through her helpless sobs, she gasped out "I'd love you forever, Deshan. If you did that...I'd love you forever..."
"And you will, Lola. You will love each other forever. I don't want to make a liar out of you. I wish that the two of you were deeply, passionately in love, and that you two were always groping and fondling each other, whenever you had the chance. I wish that your love would transcend the physical appearance of your partner, and that you could always see the others inner beauty. Now...for the fun part, I wish you were both..."
Who knows a what she'd have said, before the bullet thundered into her. The slug passed through the back of her head, splattering her brains against the side of the stage. She sagged into a graceless heap, twitching like a decapitated chicken.
Bubba reached out and plucked the stone from her clenched, right hand. In his left, was the revolver they kept in the office for emergencies. She'd been so involved with what she was doing to the two on stage, that she hadn't seen the reflection of Bubba coming up behind her. Hadn't heard him over the pounding hip-hop music. Hadn't noticed a thing...until the bullet killed her.
Deshan and Lola, both in the act of fondling and groping each other, were so stunned...that at first they didn't realize that Bubba was smiling up at them.
Until...
"I wish this was MY club!"
Deshan went from relived to pissed, and he tried to launch himself at Bubba. It wasn't easy, as he had to disentangle himself from Lola
"An, I wish..."
That night, "Phantasia" opened right on time, and was as packed as it always was...especially when the clubs headline attractions were on stage. Every man in the crowd hooted and cheered as that dynamic duo...those two scoops of fun...the alpha and omega of seduction...jiggled and bounced on stage, helplessly in the grip of the driving club beat. The two woman were almost twins, except that Lola was white and blond, while her lover/partner Deshana was a black as Africa.
The two girls came out in matching tassels and panties, except that Lola's were black and Deshana's were white, and they did a striptease that was out of this world! Mirroring each other movements, they entered from different sides of the stage, gyrating and prancing in unison, and moving towards each other. They danced and flowed, seeming not to noticed the other, until they both saw the other and looked startled. Then they began again, this time while looking into the others eyes, trying to out dance the image before them, but always with identical moves. Finally, they moved down the stage to the pole, and started to dance and spin about on it, always avoiding direct contact...until they would touch - seemingly only just then notice that the other wasn't a reflection - and the rest of the dance was a wild, passionate animal seduction as they spun and flexed in unison, but now against each other. Breasts, legs and arms twining and pressing against each other...they would suck on each others nipples, massage each others wet slits, and tongue kiss while the crowd roared it's approval. Then, they'd noticed the crowd...and the focus shifted again.
When the dance was done, they'd both be slick with mingled sweat and pussy juice, and their g-strings would be bulging with bills. They never once failed to gather all the money that had been thrown at them on stage. After all, it wasn't theirs...it was Bubba's.
They'd get into the back room, organize the bills into stacks, and put them into the safe he'd had installed. Then, they'd go out and work the floor until their next - more traditional - set. They'd lapdance, suck dick, and go into the john to fuck men in the stalls. There wasn't anything wrong with this, as it was what they both wanted. What Bubba had MADE them want.
After the night was over. A night of non-stop depravity, where they'd spent their few free moments fondling and groping each others sag-less Soccer-Ball tits and big, balloon asses, they'd gather the money and saunter up to Bubba's office - which had once been Deshana's office. She didn't hold a grudge, though. After all, she and her lovely Lola were so happy together. Lola and Deshana were always gazing into each others eyes, lost in the thought that they would always be together. That they'd always be in love. That the woman who stared back at them was their perfect mate/friend/lover. They loved sex with men and LOVED stripping, but both were far less important than loving each other.
"Hey, Bubba!" they sang in unison, sounding musical as always. Lola had a sweetly high and breathy voice that made her sound like a Bimbo. While Deshana's voice was low, throaty and silky smooth. Sometimes they'd fool around with that Karaoke machine in back, and the two of them would sing to each other or together. They sounded wonderful, and the other girls got a big kick out of it. So did Bubba, for that matter.
"Hey, girls. Come on in."
They came into Bubba's office, and handed the money to Bubba. He saw they'd written "One-Thousand and Sixty-two dollars" on the attached slip. He could trust that total, as they were both suicidal loyal to him. He sorted through the stack...and broke off a hundred bucks, handing it back to them They both squealed and giggled as they split it into exactly fifty buck a piece, then hugged him in delight. It was nice how he sometimes did nice stuff like that for them.
Then, he handed the stone to Deshana, and a piece of paper with words printed on it.
"I think it's time I got dis outta of th' way..." he said. "...but I wants you two ta say th' words. I want'cha to KNOW it was you that wished it."
Deshana smiled, winked at Lola, then said "I wishes that ah be Deshana for th' res' of my life, an' I can' neva be changed, not physical or mental. I wishes tha' I jus' always be what ah is. An' I wishes th' I can' use th' wishin' stone no more."
"Tha's perfect, girl..." he said, and Deshana giggled as she felt her horizons narrow. It didn't matter. She'd spent her life with Lola...and that was what mattered.
Lola took the stone, and said aloud what was written on her card. "I wish...(giggle)..that I'd always be Lola, an' that I...like, can't be changed physicaly or mentaly. I wish I couldn' use th' wishin' stone any more, either."
Bubba smiled at them. He was happy. He got what he wanted...and they'd gotten what they'd deserved. They'd strip for him for the rest of their long-long lives, and be beautiful and sexually active all the time. They'd always be happy...and what more could anyone ask for. They even had a measure of freedom, as they lived together in a cheap apartment just behind the club. They'd spend all day snuggling and fondling each other, then all night dancing and making him money. What could be better than that?
