THE CLUB OWNER AND HIS STRIPPER
"Sir, this is inappropriate and I'm sure you're aware of that. You're my boss."
His tall frame stood up and he slowly strode over to me with a lustful glint in his eyes. His hand lifted and his thumb ran across my low...
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Villains get portrayed as evil.
The ones who destroy and ruin, while the presumed opposite kill those who do. They witness the evil leaked from the villain's prey, but to the Villain, the sight of the crimson seeping from their betrayed is a sight they long to keep. It's their motivation. The crave for torture and vengeance being what they rely on to feel the relief when the pain gets equalized between them and their target.
They get forced to receive the vengeance with a bullet in their head or a blade in their heart.
Most believe the evil in Villains consume them, but to them, the rage of witnessing their target unable to feel that pain they caused shocks through their body, controlling every horrid thought running through their mind. They just need the beautiful sight of plasma surrounding them, along with the evidence of their torture screamed into their ears to be satisfied, wanting it to be replayed over and over again.
The proof of the pain the Villain had merely reciprocated.
My heels clicked as the lights from the club glimmered against the dark pavement, the music growing when I pushed the handle. A bald man asked for my ID as the colourful beams adoring the walls welcomed my vision, and the music entered my ears freely. My eyes scanned the dimmed room and moments later locked on my target.
I made sure that the black silk wrapped around my body exposed my breasts before I walked up. I pulled out the stool from underneath the counter, and in the corner of my eye, I saw their head turn to mine, an amused grin perking on their lips as I sat.
I crossed my leg over the other when the bartender slid a minor glass across the counter. I felt his eyes burn into my body whilst I downed the burning liquid, letting it slide down my throat. I turned to my target with my elbows on the counter and a small smile made it's way onto my face.
His blonde hair sat in curls on top of his head, and his eyes moved to my breasts when my arms subtly pushed them up. His gaze finally flickered to my own with mischief and desire swirling beneath them. He grinned, "Hi."
"Hi," I smiled, drifting my gaze to the counter.
"What's your name?" I felt his proximity get closer as he spoke, and in the corner of my eye I noticed his head was tilted down to get me to make eye contact with him.
This is what he wants, it's what they all want.
Dominance.
"Ivy," I looked towards him again to see a wide smirk on his face, and his hand moved to my thigh. A giddy smile played on my lips and he chuckled. "What's yours?"
"Damien," he said, giving my thigh a small squeeze before standing. He leaned down and I felt his breath on my ear, "You wanna go somewhere with me?" I shortly nodded as he took my hand and walked me out.
