Page 24 of Unbreakable

Draco

ItwasallI could do to contain myself during class today with her sitting there. What I wanted to do was take her over my knee, and spank her until her ass was a beautiful shade of crimson then bend her over my desk and fuck her fast and hard. She knows just what she is doing, the lil’ witch, wearing those shorts with her plump ass cheeks hanging out the bottom and what she called a shirt that just barely covered her chest. It was the ultimate test of my control, trying to keep my cock from going rock hard. She sat there the whole class sucking on that damn sucker and stared at me, no, through me as she hung on every word I said, only dropping her gaze when she needed to jot something down. Fuck me, why the hell am I this drawn to her?

It’s almost midnight now and I’m sitting around the fire pit in my backyard with Bart, fighting the urge to go down to that club and get her when she gets off work. Bart must notice that I keep checking the time on my watch, along with my apparent inability to keep up with the conversation.

“Man, what the fuck has you so distracted? Still thinking about the siren from the club? I mean I know your hands are tied at the moment but I could get her prepped and ready for you.” He grins from ear to ear, fucker must be crazy.

Normally I wouldn’t mind sharing a sub with him, but there’s something different about her that I can’t explain. It’s like I’m yearning for her, hell, I haven’t slept with anyone since seeing her and that just isn’t normal. I love sex, not just the pleasure you get from the act but the control. Knowing that I control my subs pleasure, her needs, and she is there to serve me, to obey me. Fuck I want her!

I feel his gaze burning into the side of my head, until he finally speaks.

“Man, I know this girl has you fucked up inside, but is she worth the risk of losing your career over? You’ve worked hard to be where you are, to set yourself apart from your family.”

“I know man. That’s why I intend to wait until she’s out of my class, but I’m drawn to her. It feels like I have this invisible cord that’s pulling me to her. The harder I try to resist the greater the pull becomes.” I lean forward placing my elbows on my thighs and put my face in the palms of my hands, exhaling deeply.

“We can just go to the club, nothing more, and you can watch her dance. I can always go and keep an eye on her for you, or you can see her and just keep it a secret. I mean, if you make her your sub you’ll have a contract, just add in the condition she can’t talk about y’all. Have her sign an NDA.” The wheels in my brain start to spin. Could it be that fucking easy?

“Yeah, let's go.” Rising up from where I’m seated, I place the remainder of the beer on the table to my side.

Forty-five minutes later we pull up outside of Centerfolds. Why my lil’ witch chose to work here I will never know, this place is a damn dive. The only reason we were here that night was because Antonio wanted to go slumming. Slumming is exactly what it was until I saw her. She outshined all of the other girls and when she started moving on stage, I knew I had to have her. Her movements were like poetry in motion and it enticed me.

Walking into the bar, we notice the crowd is smaller tonight. We make our way over and sit down at a table to the right of the stage. Looking around, I don’t see her anywhere but she could be backstage waiting to come on. Pulling out my phone, I decide to let her know I’m here.

Me: Lil’ Witch, I’m seated by the bar anxiously awaiting to see your show. When do you come on?

I wait for a response. But nothing. Five minutes pass and still nothing. I begin to feel my temperature rise at her disobedience and wish more than anything she was my sub so I could punish her.

Me: Lil’ Witch, I suggest you answer me.

Spotting a waitress headed my way, I motion for her to come over.

“Hi there, what can I get you gentlemen to drink tonight?” she asks, batting her overly mascaraed lashes at us.

“We will both take a Crown and Coke. What time does Arizona perform tonight?” I ask, seeing the very clear eye roll and expression change at the mention of my girl's name.

“Have no clue since she no longer works here and good riddance to her, especially after the scene she caused and the way she and that man treated poor Karen. But, what do you expect from trashy bikers? I’ll be right back with your drinks. If you’re looking for a private dance I can take care of you.” she tells us before turning and sauntering off towards the bar.

Lifting my phone back up, I begin to text again, frustrated at her lack of response.

Me: Not only are you not responding to me, but you also failed to tell me you’re no longer working here. WHO IS THE BIKER??

The waitress makes her way back over, setting our drinks in front of us. Looking up at her I ask, “Who do I need to talk to about her leaving?”

“That would be Karen. But trust me I’m a much better dancer than her and I even do the extras.” She places her hand on my shoulder and gently squeezes it, then she bats those damn eyes at me again. She really needs to give it up, she’s no way in my league.

“Please stop embarrassing yourself. I’m not interested in you whatsoever. Now get me Karen please and kindly remove your hand from me.”

“Your loss,” she says, anger present in her voice at my obvious dismissal, before she makes her way through the tables and approaches an older woman with her hair pulled back into a bun and a cigar hanging from her mouth. Real classy.

I watch as the waitress talks to her, then turns her head over her shoulder and looks over at us. They exchange words for a little longer before the one I’m assuming is Karen heads our way. She walks with a noticeable intentional overswing of her hips, the closer she gets to our table, she places a very obvious fake smile on her face.

“I hear you gentlemen are asking about a dancer who is no longer employed with us.” she says as she takes a seat in the empty chair between me and Bart.

“Yes, her name is Arizona. May I ask why she no longer works here?”

“She was on the verge of being fired anyway prior to what happened. She just wasn’t that good of a dancer and was causing trouble. She was even catty with the other girls, when she lost dances to them. But anyway, she had her scum biker friend come in and he started a fight with one of our regular customers who turned down her advances. If that wasn’t bad enough, he then became verbally abusive and threatened me. We don’t tolerate any of that here so we had to let her go. She’s probably hung up at that biker’s clubhouse being passed around from one member to another. From the stories I hear, that's what they do with their girls.” she tells me and I already know that this story was full of more lies than truths.

“What club would this be? If you don’t mind me asking. I’m new here and want to make sure to stay clear of trash like that?” I ask, making it appear as if I believe her story.

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