Chapter 6

It was Saturday night. Laura and Fiona arrived outside a narrow doorway tucked between two darkened shops. There was no bright light or flickering neon sign to greet them, just a small barely lit amber panel above the doorway that read The Lantern, almost easy to miss.

They stepped inside. The club felt smaller than Fiona remembered - or perhaps she was simply less overwhelmed by it this time. The low ceiling pressed the sound downward, keeping the music close, intimate. Nothing echoed around them. Everything stayed contained.

Laura led the way through the club. It was busy, but not crowded. “Same table as last time?” she asked, her tone light but carrying that quiet teacher’s authority that she never quite shed. Fiona nodded, and they made their way to the small booth tucked against the wall.

Fiona scanned the room and her eyes quickly found Lila, her long blonde hair making her easy to pick out, even in the dim light. The dancer leaned against the bar, sipping something amber colored through a straw. Her dress was tight, black, dipping low in the back, exposing the delicate wings of her shoulder blades. As if sensing Fiona’s stare, Lila turned slightly, catching Fiona’s eye over her glass. A slow, knowing smirk curled her lips before she deliberately looked away.

Laura’s fingers tightened around Fiona’s wrist. “Don’t get distracted,” she murmured, her breath warm against Fiona’s ear. “You’re here with me tonight.” The possessiveness in her tone sent a shiver down Fiona’s spine, but she didn’t miss the way Laura’s own gaze flickered toward Lila and then toward Evelyn, who sat at the opposite end of the bar. Evelyn looked up and her eyes met Laura’s for a fraction of a second. She smiled, only slightly, but enough for Fiona to notice.

A server arrived with a bottle of wine that Laura had ordered. She poured them both a glass of something deep red, Fiona finding it rich and velvety on her tongue. Despite Laura’s possessiveness, her attention kept straying to Lila, who had begun toying with the strap of her dress, sliding it slowly down her shoulder and back again. Laura’s fingers curled around Fiona’s chin, forcibly redirecting her gaze. “Eyes on me,” she commanded, her voice brooking no argument.

The music switched into a slow, sultry rendition of “Fever,” which Fiona thought most appropriate. In her estimation, it was the perfect choice of music for the club and suited the atmosphere so well. It also prompted Laura to stand up, take Fiona’s wrist and pull her toward the dance floor. Fiona noticed that Laura’s grip was firm, her fingers pressing just hard enough to leave faint marks - the kind that would fade in minutes but still made Fiona’s pulse flutter.

The dance floor was crowded but not packed, bodies swaying close but never quite touching unless of course they wanted to. Laura guided Fiona into the rhythm of the dance effortlessly, her hips brushing Fiona’s with deliberate slowness, each movement calculated to draw out the tension. Fiona could feel the heat radiating from Laura’s body, the faint scent of her perfume, something dark and floral, mingling with the ambient scenting used by the club.

Laura’s hand slid from Fiona’s wrist to her waist, fingers pressing into the curve of her hip as she pulled her closer. Fiona’s breath hitched as Laura leaned in, her lips grazing Fiona’s ear. “You keep looking at her,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the music. Fiona didn’t need to ask who she meant - Laura’s grip tightened just enough to make it clear. Over at the bar, Evelyn leaned over to whisper something to Lila, who immediately glanced their way.

The music pulsed, bass thrumming through Fiona’s mind as she considered what to say in reply. “I want...”

Laura kept her grip tight and her teeth grazed Fiona’s earlobe. “You want what? Tell me.”

Fiona hesitated. “I want her to watch us,” she whispered.

“Just her?”

Fiona’s pulse raced as she stole a quick look at Lila and Evelyn in conversation at the bar. “Evelyn too,” she admitted, exhaling sharply when Laura’s fingers squeezed her waist even more tightly, her nails feeling sharp. “I want them both ... watching how you touch me.”

Laura’s low hum vibrated against Fiona’s throat, her lips trailing downward. “So you want us to put on a show for them?” Her hands slid upwards, smoothing their way over Fiona’s dress, coming to rest over her breasts. Fiona shuddered, her hips stuttering against Laura’s thigh.

“Yes,” Fiona gasped excitedly, “let’s show them what we’re made of.” Her gaze flicked back to the bar, where Lila was now watching them openly, her smile deepening as Evelyn murmured something in her ear. Fiona felt exposed, vulnerable, and impossibly aroused.

Laura didn’t hesitate. Her hands slid down Fiona’s sides, gripping the fabric of her dress before slowly hiking it up, exposing her thighs inch by torturous inch. Fiona caught Lila’s widened eyes tracking the movement. Evelyn’s cocktail glass paused halfway to her lips, her gaze darkening as Laura’s fingers traced the lace edge of Fiona’s underwear, deliberately slowly.

“You’re shameless,” Laura murmured against Fiona’s jaw, her breath hot. “Allowing me to do this to you in a busy nightclub. In front of all these people.” The music’s tempo increased, syncing with Fiona’s racing pulse as Laura’s thumbs hooked under the waistband, teasing downward without quite pulling. “You’re shameless and I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m shameless,” said Fiona, without hesitation.

“Say it again.”

“I’m shameless,” repeated Fiona, still without hesitation.

Across the room, Lila and Evelyn were now sitting next to each other and were all eyes, both giving Laura and Fiona their full attention. Laura’s thumbs remained hooked under the waistband of Fiona’s panties. “Louder,” she commanded, her voice dripping with challenge.

Fiona swallowed hard, her cheeks burning with equal parts humiliation and desire. “I’m shameless,” she declared, her voice carrying just enough for the nearby dancers to glance their way. A ripple of murmurs spread across the dance floor - some amused, some intrigued - but Fiona barely registered them. Her focus remained locked on Lila and Evelyn.

“Good girl,” Laura purred. “Now we’ve got that out of the way, let’s turn up the heat a bit.” Her eyes glinted mischievously, her thumbs still toying with the waistband of Fiona’s panties. “You said you wanted them to watch us, so why don’t we give them something worth watching?”

Fiona’s breath caught and her mouth went dry. She wondered what exactly Laura had in mind and how far she was intending to go. Others on the dance floor thronged around them, but she barely noticed. Her world narrowed to Laura’s hands and what she was about to do with them.

Suddenly the music came to a halt and the dancing stopped. Fiona remembered this happening on her previous visit and she also remembered the reason why. The music had stopped because it was time for Lila’s burlesque show and she assumed it was the same this time. She looked over at where Lila and Evelyn had been sitting but they were nowhere to be seen.

Laura removed her thumbs from Fiona’s panties, giving her a strong feeling of anticlimax. She had been in the middle of something compelling, something exciting, and yet it had fizzled out so quickly. At least she had Lila’s show to look forward to, as she assumed that was what was happening. Laura certainly seemed to think so, as she was gazing directly at the stage.

The lights dimmed further, and Fiona felt Laura’s fingers intertwine with hers, squeezing reassuringly. The stage remained dark for a long moment, too long, until a single spotlight clicked on, revealing not Lila, but Evelyn standing center stage in a sleek black corset, her red hair pinned up to expose the delicate curve of her neck. Fiona’s breath caught. This wasn’t what she had expected.

A small crowd had gathered in front of the stage and Fiona and Laura drifted across the room to join them. Fiona hadn’t realized that Evelyn was a dancer too, and she was now very curious and eager to see her perform. She was no longer thinking about what Laura had been intending to do to her on the dance floor, all her attention now focused on Evelyn, who stood waiting for her music.

Evelyn’s gloved hands trailed down her own body as the first notes of a haunting violin piece filled the air. She moved with deliberate precision, each step measured, each arch of her back a calculated tease. Fiona’s pulse thrummed when Evelyn’s gaze locked onto hers mid-twirl - a challenge, an invitation. Laura’s grip tightened, her nails biting into Fiona’s palm, but she didn’t pull her away.

The corset loosened one ribbon at a time, Evelyn’s fingers working with slow, maddening control. The satin slid down her shoulders, pooling at her waist as she turned, exposing the lace-edged chemise beneath. Fiona’s mouth went dry. This wasn’t the playful, glittering spectacle Lila had delivered last time. Evelyn’s performance was a masterclass in delayed gratification, every movement steeped in quiet dominance.

Laura leaned in, her lips brushing Fiona’s earlobe. “You like watching her, don’t you?” Her voice was honeyed, but the undercurrent of possessiveness made Fiona shiver. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Fiona’s throat tightened as Evelyn’s chemise slipped lower, revealing the swell of her breasts beneath sheer fabric. “I ... I want to touch her,” she admitted, the confession spilling out before she could stop it.

Laura’s chuckle was dark, her fingers tracing Fiona’s pulse point. “Of course you do. It’s understandable that she has that effect on you.” She nipped at Fiona’s earlobe. “But you won’t touch her. Not unless I allow it.” The words sent a jolt through Fiona’s core.

Onstage, Evelyn had turned her back to the audience, the chemise now undone and hanging precariously from her elbows. The violin swelled as she arched backward, letting the fabric slither to the floor in a whisper of silk. Fiona’s breath hitched - Evelyn was nude save for very brief panties, fishnet stockings and a garter belt, her skin glowing under the spotlight.

Laura’s hand slid possessively around Fiona’s shoulders, her fingers digging into the top of her far arm. “She’s exquisite, isn’t she?” Her voice was low, rough with something Fiona couldn’t quite place. Admiration? Jealousy? “Quite exquisite. But she’s not for you.”

Evelyn’s gloved hands traced the curve of her hips, her eyes still locked on Fiona’s with deliberate, smoldering intensity. Every movement was deliberate - the slow drag of fingertips along her ribs, the arch of her spine as she rolled her shoulders back - all designed to pull the audience deeper into her spell. Fiona couldn’t look away. She felt Laura’s breath against her neck, hot and uneven.

“You’re trembling,” Laura murmured, her fingers tightening possessively. Fiona hadn’t even realized. Her body thrummed with anticipation, her pulse wild under Laura’s grip. Evelyn had turned around now, her movements carrying her right to the front of the stage, her breasts swaying gently with the rhythm of her dance. Fiona’s mouth watered.

Laura’s hand slid down Fiona’s arm, intertwining their fingers. “You want her,” she said simply. Not an accusation, just a statement of fact. Fiona swallowed hard, watching Evelyn’s fingers trail lower, past her waist, over the swell of her hips, then inward, toward her panties.

“Don’t get carried away,” Laura commanded, squeezing Fiona’s hand sharply as Evelyn teased the edge of her panties. “She’s a performer.” The violins crescendoed, the music swelling as Evelyn’s glove-clad fingers dipped beneath the lace. Fiona’s breath stopped.

Evelyn’s lips parted in a silent gasp - an illusion, Fiona realized - but the effect was devastating. Laura’s grip tightened further, her nails leaving crescents in Fiona’s skin. “She’s teasing you,” Laura murmured, her voice rough. “That slow, deliberate little act. She knows you’re watching.”

The glove slid lower, disappearing beneath the lace. Evelyn’s knees buckled theatrically, her free hand braced against the stage floor as she arched back, her hips rolling in slow, rhythmic circles. Fiona’s own thighs trembled in sympathy, heat pooling low in her stomach.

Laura’s lips traced Fiona’s jaw. “Tell me exactly what you’d do to her.” The command was velvet-wrapped steel. Fiona’s breath stuttered as Evelyn’s fingers traced invisible patterns beneath silk, the glove working away busily until she finally withdrew it with a gasp.

“I’d ... I’d touch her like that,” Fiona admitted, hips shifting against the sudden ache between her legs. “Slower though. Making her beg before I—”

Laura’s laugh was a dark ripple against her skin. “Too generous.” Her free hand slid down Fiona’s side, fingertips skating over the hem of her dress. “She doesn’t deserve your patience.” Onstage, Evelyn’s glove was visible now, in full view of the spotlight as she placed both her hands on her hips with a lingering smirk. Fiona’s stomach clenched.

Laura’s fingers dug into Fiona’s hip. “Look at her. Playing with her audience like they’re toys. Keeping them all on a string. She really knows what she’s doing, doesn’t she?” Evelyn’s gaze flicked to them as she rotated her hips in a classic grind. Fiona’s knees nearly buckled.

The music shifted tempo, now something darker, slower, and Evelyn turned her back again, bending forward just enough to tease the curve of her ass through those flimsy panties. Fiona bit her lip hard. Laura’s breath hitched beside her, fingers tightening almost painfully. “She’s good,” Laura admitted grudgingly. “Too good.”

Evelyn straightened abruptly, then reached behind her back with both hands - the audience collectively holding their breath - before unhooking her garter belt with a single, practiced flick. The straps slithered down her thighs like black serpents, pooling around her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicking the belt aside with a flourish.

Fiona’s pulse pounded in her ears. Laura’s grip on her hand had gone slack, as her teacher was just as transfixed. Evelyn now stood in nothing but the panties and stockings, and she turned - slowly, torturously - to face them again.

Evelyn stood still for a moment and then her hands moved to her panties. Fiona’s breath caught, but instead of stripping them away, Evelyn merely tugged the lace aside, just enough to reveal a glimpse of bare skin beneath. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Fiona’s thighs pressed together involuntarily, her excitement rising rapidly now.

Laura’s nails dug into Fiona’s wrist. “Don’t get carried away,” she hissed, “it’s only a performance.” Onstage, Evelyn smirked, her fingers still holding the lace taut as she swayed her hips in time with the music. The tease was unbearable – Evelyn offered just enough to make Fiona’s imagination run wild, but not enough to satisfy her.