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more than a fleeting glance, but she felt the weight of her attention, the unspoken challenge.

“Eyes on me,” Laura murmured, nipping Fiona’s earlobe. “Or I stop.” Fiona whimpered, clutching Laura tighter. The song crescendoed, a saxophone wailing, and Laura claimed Fiona in a bruising kiss. Fiona melted into it, hips grinding down on Laura’s thigh. A wolf whistle cut through the music, causing Laura to pull back, lips swollen. “Let them watch,” she growled.

The dance floor crowd had thickened around them, shadows pressing close, but Laura moved like they were alone, her palm sliding up Fiona’s inner thigh. “Tell me what you want.” Her fingers hooked into the lace of Fiona’s panties, tugging sharply, just enough to make her gasp. “Tell me.” Another wolf whistle was heard, but Laura didn't even look to see where it came from.

Fiona’s voice cracked. “You.” Her hips rocked against Laura’s thigh, her nails digging into her shoulders. "Here and now." The music pulsed around them, the bass thrumming in time with her racing heartbeat. "In front of everyone." Across the club, Evelyn leaned back in her chair, watching them with a smirk. Lila whispered something in her ear, and Evelyn laughed, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

Fiona waited for Laura to respond, knowing they were being watched and excited at the prospect of going further in front of their audience. She wasn't sure how many people were watching them, but taking a quick look around it seemed that eyes were on them from all over the room. She shivered in anticipation, hoping that they could really put on a show.

Then the music stopped and everyone on the dance floor came to a halt mid-movement. Fiona knew perfectly well why, being on her third visit to the club, and her head turned toward the stage, although it remained in darkness for the moment with no sign of activity. Her plan to put on a show with Laura was clearly being superseded by The Lantern's official entertainment.

Laura's grip loosened on Fiona's thigh, but she didn't pull away entirely. Instead, her fingers traced idle circles through Fiona's dress fabric as they both watched the stage. "It looks like we'll have to wait," Laura murmured. Fiona nodded, disappointed by the anticlimax, but curious to see what was going to happen on the stage.

The three women in matching outfits, whom Fiona had seen earlier sitting with Lila and Evelyn, were now nowhere to be seen, which suggested that they were indeed the performers. If their show were anything like those of Lila and Evelyn it would be hugely exciting, although Lila had seemed to imply that it would be something different this time. All would soon be revealed.

The stage remained dark for a few seconds more, adding to the suspense. Then the curtain rose, revealing the three women standing perfectly still, about two feet apart from each other, facing the audience but with their heads bowed. They still wore their dark, rather formal outfits, and each held a rather large feather fan in one hand.

Fiona’s breath caught as the music started, a slow, rhythmic drumbeat that matched the deliberate way the women raised their heads in unison. Their look was striking, their eyes dark with kohl, their lips blood-red. The trio began moving with slow, precise steps, their fans flicking open in perfect synchrony, the white feathers a sharp contrast to their dark outfits.

The drumbeat quickened, shifting from a pulse to a gallop. On the fourth beat, the women snapped the fans shut with a sound like a pistol shot. They stood for a split second, silhouettes of severe tailoring, until, with a collective snap of their wrists, the fans bloomed open again, larger and wider, momentarily eclipsing them from the neck down.

Laura leaned closer to Fiona, her voice barely audible above the music. “They’re trained in burlesque, but this isn’t just teasing. Watch how they control the room.” Fiona swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the women circled each other, their movements mesmeric, their fans brushing against each other’s wrists, their necks, their thighs, never quite touching skin, but promising it.

The drumbeat shifted again, growing louder and more insistent. In a flurry of movement, the two outer dancers lunged toward the center of the stage. They crossed their fans in front of the middle dancer, the white ostrich plumes overlapping to create a solid, shimmering wall of white, covering her entirely.

A moment passed. The two flanking dancers then snapped their fans shut, spinning away in opposite directions. The middle dancer remained, but her formal black outfit was gone. In its place, she shimmered in a bodysuit of emerald crystals that caught the spotlight like a shattered mirror. The audience gasped. The transition had been so fast it felt impossible.

The emerald dancer locked eyes with Fiona for a moment, a slight smile on her face. Fiona wondered if it was her own emerald dress that had attracted her. Then she moved away to her left, the dancer on that side moving into the middle. Again, the two outer dancers lunged toward the center, crossing their fans in front of the middle dancer, who disappeared from view.

After a few beats on the drum, the fans snapped shut, revealing the middle dancer now clad in a bodysuit of sapphire crystals, reflecting the stage lights beautifully. Fiona glanced at Laura, whose lips curled into an appreciative smirk. "They're good," she murmured, her fingers tightening slightly on Fiona's waist.

The only dancer still in her dark outfit now became the middle dancer. The emerald and sapphire dancers moved inwards and deployed their fans to hide her. The drumbeat paused, a classic moment of suspense and a held breath. Then the music swelled again and the fans snapped shut, revealing the dancer in a bodysuit covered in a shock of ruby red sequins.

The audience applauded as the trio reformed their line, the music changing into a brassy, uptempo swing. The ruby dancer took the lead, her bodysuit shimmering like molten metal under the stage lights. Now the middle dancer, she stepped forward boldly, rolling her hips to the music while the others flanked her, their fans moving in graceful, mesmeric arcs.

Fiona felt Laura’s grip tighten again, her nails pressing just enough to leave marks. “Look at them,” Laura murmured, her voice low and rough. “They move like they own every pair of eyes in this room.” Fiona nodded, transfixed as the ruby dancer pivoted sharply, her heel catching the stage with a sharp click, before peeling off to her left to be replaced by the emerald dancer.

The music built to a crescendo, horns blaring, as the trio spun in unison, their fans flicking open and shut like the wings of predatory birds. The ruby dancer and the sapphire dancer both arched back against the emerald dancer between them, before snapping apart and moving away, only to turn around and move toward her again, their fans fully open to cover her.

Laura exhaled sharply, her breath hot against Fiona’s neck. “Another quick change,” she murmured. “Watch.” As if on cue, the fans clicked shut, revealing the emerald dancer transformed into a golden dancer, her bodysuit now a corset and mini-skirt. An appreciative murmur ran through the audience, who were clearly captivated by the performance.

The golden dancer strutted forward, her hips swaying, before peeling away and changing places with the sapphire dancer, whose turn it was to disappear behind the fans of the others. The drumroll swelled as the sapphire dancer reappeared, now another golden dancer, in corset and mini-skirt. Fiona's breath hitched. The transformation was mesmerizing.

Laura's lips grazed Fiona's earlobe. "Tell me, would you like to be up there? On the stage?" Her fingers remained tight on Fiona's waist. "Or do you prefer being watched right here?" Fiona shuddered, considering her answer, but her eyes still followed the dancers on stage, torn between the allure of the spectacle unfolding before her and Laura's possessive grip.

The drumbeat fractured into syncopated jazz. It was the turn of the ruby dancer to move to the center, soon vanishing behind the fans of the others, and then emerging as a third golden dancer. Fiona was impressed with how slick it all was, but she couldn't forget Laura's presence as she felt her hand move up her spine, then curl possessively around the back of her neck.

The trio of golden dancers reformed their line, moving in perfect synchrony as the tempo shifted again, this time into something slow and sultry. The middle dancer, the one who had been ruby, stepped forward, her corset laced tight enough to emphasize the swell of her breasts as she rolled her shoulders languidly. She lifted her arms above her head, her golden outfit shimmering, before dragging her hands down her own body in a slow, deliberate tease.

Laura’s fingers tightened around Fiona’s neck, her thumb pressing just below her jawline. “Answer me,” she murmured, her voice rough. Fiona’s breath stuttered, her eyes still on the stage, as the dancer peeled away to her right, the former emerald dancer taking her place in the center.

“Here,” Fiona gasped. “I don't need a stage.” She arched into Laura’s touch as the dancer’s hands slid down her corset, taking her turn to tease. She caught Fiona's gaze, locking eyes with her for a second. Fiona remembered her doing that before, when she was in emerald.

The golden trio’s rhythm shifted, faster now, their fans flicking open and shut in rapid succession, creating a mesmeric blur of white and gold. Fiona marveled at the striking spectacle, and could hear a collective murmur of appreciation sweeping through the audience.

Laura’s grip on Fiona’s neck tightened. “Good,” she purred, her lips brushing Fiona’s ear. “We’ll dance again soon.” The golden dancers now performed a synchronized undulation of hips, the music crescendoed, and the flanking dancers closed in on the middle one. As on previous occasions, their fans clicked open and the middle dancer disappeared behind them.

A drumroll built suspense, Fiona barely breathing, then snap, the fans shut. The middle dancer stood naked, in nothing but her shoes. The audience gasped, Fiona’s pulse spiked. The dancer’s hands traced her own curves slowly, her smirk daring anyone to look away. Her gaze locked onto Fiona again, deliberate, lingering, and then she winked.

Laura’s nails dug into Fiona’s hip. “See how she owns it?” Her voice was dark, approving. “No fear.” Fiona swallowed hard, not able to take her eyes off the stage, watching the dancer arch back, her fingers brushing her nipples, lingering just long enough to tease, before moving lower.

The drumbeat surged, frantic now. The nude dancer spun, her hair whipping across bare shoulders, as her companions flanked her, their golden corsets gleaming under the stage lights. They pressed close, their fans flicking open to shield her again, but only for a second. When they snapped shut, she was clothed once more in her original dark ensemble, poised as if nothing had happened. The audience erupted into applause.

Laura’s grip on Fiona didn’t loosen. “She’s good,” she admitted grudgingly, her thumb stroking the sensitive skin below Fiona’s ear. “But she’s not you.” Fiona’s breath hitched as Laura’s other hand slid possessively down her spine, stopping just above the curve of her backside. “You don’t need sequins to impress me. Or a stage.”

The middle dancer had peeled away to her left, the dancer on that side taking her place in the middle. The flanking dancers closed in on her, the fans crossing in front of her as before, hiding her from view. Fiona barely had time to blink before the fans snapped shut, revealing the middle dancer standing there naked.

The naked dancer stepped forward, arching her back, running her hands down her sides with deliberate slowness. "They’re playing with us," Laura murmured. The music swelled, the drums reaching a crescendo as the dancer turned, presenting her bare backside to the audience, before glancing over her shoulder.

The drumbeat surged frantically. The nude dancer spun to face the audience, giving them full frontal nudity again, shaking her upper body. Her companions flanked her, pressing close, their fans flicking open to shield her again, but only for a second. When the fans snapped shut, she was clothed in her original dark outfit, the audience responding with generous applause.

The sole remaining golden dancer now took her place in the middle, flanked by the two dark-clad performers. Their fans crossed before her for another quick change, a drumroll sounding as they did so. Fiona knew this was the former ruby dancer and anticipated seeing her naked, just like the other two. Then the fans clicked shut and there she was, as expected, naked.

Fiona’s breath caught, not at the nudity, but at the way the dancer moved, shaking her big breasts and then grinding her hips. Like the other two dancers, she was shaven between the legs, but the grinding motion emphasized it more. She then arched her back slowly, her hands skimming her hips, her smirk widening as she pivoted, her bare backside swaying with exaggerated slowness.

Laura’s grip on Fiona tightened, her fingers pressing bruises into skin. “She knows exactly what she’s doing,” she muttered, her voice thick with reluctant admiration. The dancer held her pose for a heartbeat longer, then flicked a smoldering, lingering glance over her shoulder, before turning fully, presenting herself front-on again.

The drumbeat shifted, now staccato, as the dark-attired dancers closed ranks around her, their fans snapping open to obscure her once more. After a brief drumroll, the fans snapped shut, and she stepped forward in her original outfit once more. The trio reformed their line, moving seamlessly into the slow, precise steps they had started their performance with.

The dancers now reached their finale. As the music climaxed, the three gathered together, bowing in perfect unison. Fiona was still all eyes, watching intently as the dancers stood in their dark outfits, their fans now held closed at their sides, taking the acclaim of the audience.

The lights in the club brightened slightly, signaling the end of the show. The club was buzzing, patrons murmuring about the performance, but Laura’s attention was on Fiona, her fingers tracing slow circles around her waist. Fiona enjoyed her touch. The dance trio’s performance had been mesmerizing, but Laura’s touch and possessiveness were far more intoxicating.

Laura led Fiona back to their booth, the overhead music resuming as they sat down, though the air in the club still crackled with the excitement of the show. Laura poured them both some more wine. Suddenly, Lila and Evelyn materialized at their table, side by side. "Do you mind if we join you?" asked Evelyn, although they proceeded to sit down without waiting for a reply.

“So what did you think of the show?” asked Lila. "Tonight's a special event, so I hope you enjoyed it." Fiona hesitated, glancing at Laura, whose grip tightened around her wrist beneath the table, a silent warning. Before she could speak, Evelyn smirked, idly swirling her drink. “You looked as though you were enjoying it, Fiona. Especially when the dancers got naked.”

Fiona blushed at the suggestion, surprised at Evelyn's directness. Laura’s fingers dug harder into her skin, her expression sharpening. “She was admiring their - technique,” she said coolly. “Weren’t you, Fiona?” Fiona swallowed, nodding quickly, though her pulse stuttered at the memory of the performance and the way the dancers had toyed with the audience.

Evelyn chuckled, leaning forward. “Yes, their technique was stunning, I agree with you there." Laura's fingers curled possessively around Fiona’s thigh beneath the table, her thumb pressing just above the hem of her dress. The pressure was deliberate, a silent claim. Fiona bit her lip, shifting slightly under Laura’s touch, hyperaware of Evelyn’s knowing gaze.

Lila twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger, her eyes flicking between Fiona and Laura. “Laura, you’re gripping Fiona like she’s about to bolt,” she teased. “Relax, darling. We’re just here to chat.” Laura’s smirk was razor-thin, her fingers flexing against Fiona’s skin. “Oh, I’m perfectly relaxed,” she murmured. “But Fiona likes being reminded not to become distracted.”

Evelyn leaned in. "Those quick-change showgirls must have been a big distraction."

Laura’s fingers dug into Fiona’s thigh. “Well, those girls certainly know how to hold an audience’s attention, but it's only entertainment. Fiona knows the difference between performance and reality."

Evelyn's smirk widened, as she sat back, still swirling her drink. "What about your own show earlier? On the dance floor? Was that performance or reality?"

Laura's grip on Fiona's thigh shifted, softer now, but no less deliberate, her fingertips tracing slow circles just beneath the hemline. "Every moment with Fiona is reality," she said smoothly, though her voice carried an edge.

"But moments like that, in public, are also a performance, wouldn't you say?" Evelyn leaned in again. "If it's in clear view of other people, it's a performance, surely?"

Laura's fingers paused their tracing, her expression unreadable. Fiona felt the tension coil in Laura’s forearm, the quiet threat beneath the stillness. "No," Laura said finally, her voice low and deliberate. "It’s reality, plain and simple. Just one I choose to share."

"Sharing is fun," said Lila. "Sharing is something I truly believe in. I'm happy to know that you feel the same way."

Laura's fingers stilled entirely now, her entire posture tensing. Fiona felt the shift in the air, Laura’s playful possessiveness hardening into something sharper, more dangerous. "We don’t," Laura said flatly, her gaze locked onto Lila’s. "Not in the way you’re suggesting."

Evelyn laughed, low and throaty, swirling her drink again before taking a slow sip. "Oh, come on, Laura. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it. Fiona squirming as another woman takes advantage of her, with you watching the whole thing unfold. It sounds like fun, right?"

Laura's fingers clamped around Fiona's wrist like a vice, the sudden hard grip making Fiona gasp, her pulse hammering as Laura leaned in, her lips brushing her temple. "She doesn't squirm," Laura corrected, voice silken. "She obeys." The words sent a shiver down Fiona's spine, her breath hitching as Laura's free hand slid possessively up her thigh beneath the table.

Evelyn's smirk wavered for half a second before she recovered, raising an eyebrow. "But... What if she wanted to?" The challenge hung in the air. "I can't help wondering if Fiona ever gets a chance to choose the script? Or is it always your production, Laura?" Fiona's mouth went dry, torn between the thrill of defiance and the electric certainty of Laura's wrath.

Laura's laugh was a soft, dangerous thing against Fiona's ear. "Ask her yourself." Her fingers loosened just enough, permission masquerading as a test. Fiona felt the weight of the three gazes pinning her, the booth's leather seating suddenly hot against her thighs.

Evelyn's lips parted, her tongue darting out to wet them before she spoke. "Well, Fiona?" Her voice dripped with amusement. "Tell us. Have you ever fantasized about being with another woman while Laura watched you?"

The club's bass pulsed through Fiona's ribs, but her heart seemed to be hammering louder. Laura's thumb traced idle circles on her inner wrist, a silent reminder to answer carefully. Fiona inhaled sharply, searching for words. "I—" Her voice cracked.

Evelyn's smirk widened. "Cat got your tongue?"

Laura tilted Fiona's chin toward her with two fingers. "Answer her properly, darling."

Fiona was acutely aware of Evelyn and Lila's expectant stares. "I belong to Laura," she managed, choking the words out. "Completely."

Laura's fingers loosened, just slightly, her thumb stroking Fiona's racing pulse. Evelyn leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, her smirk never fading. "That's a pity," she murmured, swirling her drink again. "Though not unexpected." Laura relaxed, her turn to feel amused.

Lila set her cocktail glass down. "Well," she sighed, "since we can't share, perhaps Fiona would at least like to watch?" Her gaze flicked meaningfully toward Evelyn, who arched an eyebrow in return.

"Oh yes?" Laura's voice was cool but curious. "And what exactly would she be watching?"

Evelyn's gaze lingered on Fiona. "A private viewing," she purred. She exchanged glances with Lila. "The two of us together." She leaned forward, the neckline of her dress gaping slightly, and Fiona’s gaze flickered down before she could stop herself. "We've agreed to put on a show for tonight's performers, but you're welcome to come along too."

Laura’s fingers tightened around Fiona’s wrist, but she didn't say anything or show any other reaction. "We don't do private shows very often," Evelyn continued, "so this is a special offer. One not to be missed." She sipped her cocktail, eyeing Laura and Fiona over the top of the glass. "Unless of course you two have no interest in watching private shows."

Fiona's pulse fluttered under Laura’s grip. She thought about Evelyn's teasing dances a week before and how they had made such an impression on her. She suddenly felt Laura’s breath hot against her ear, her thigh pressing possessively against hers. "Would you like that?" Laura murmured, voice dark with promise. "Watching Evelyn and Lila dance in private?"

Fiona’s mouth went dry. Evelyn’s smirk deepened as she placed her glass down on the table, her gaze never leaving Fiona’s face. Lila’s laugh was a soft chime in the charged silence. "Oh, she definitely wants to," she mused. "Look at her. Her tongue's almost hanging out."

Laura’s fingers flexed around Fiona’s wrist, her other hand sliding higher beneath the hem of her dress, just enough to make her gasp. "Put your thoughts into words, darling," Laura murmured, her low tone sending a shiver down Fiona’s spine.

"She doesn’t have to answer," Evelyn said. "Her body’s doing all the talking for her."

"Oh, I know," Laura murmured, her breath hot against Fiona’s temple. "But I enjoy hearing her say it." Her fingers tightened, a silent command.

Fiona’s pulse hammered against Laura’s grip, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Evelyn’s gaze tracked the movement, her smirk deepening as she leaned forward, elbows propped on the table. "Well?" she prompted, her voice a velvet taunt. "Don’t keep us waiting."

Laura’s nails bit into Fiona’s thigh, sharp enough to sting, sharp enough make her focus. She inhaled sharply and tried to speak, but her voice cracked, leading her to take a quick sip of wine. "Yes... I'd like to watch." The admission sent heat flaring to her cheeks, but Laura’s approving hum against her ear soothed the awkwardness she was feeling.

Evelyn smiled. "Good answer," she purred.

Laura’s grip loosened, her fingers trailing up Fiona’s arm in slow approval before settling possessively around her shoulders. "Then we’ll watch," she murmured, adding, "but it's watching only. This doesn’t change anything between us." Fiona shivered, her skin prickling with anticipation, her mind already picturing Evelyn and Lila dancing before her.

"Then we'll see you later," said Lila. "Backstage. We'll let you know when we're ready." She exchanged a glance with Evelyn, and then the two rose in unison, Fiona watching their retreating figures as they slipped away.

The moment they were gone, Laura's fingers clamped around Fiona's chin, forcing her gaze up. "You're not touching them," she said, her voice low and edged with steel. "You're not participating in any way, not even speaking to them unless I permit it. Understood?" Fiona swallowed hard, her pulse stuttering beneath Laura's grip as she nodded.

A slow smirk curled Laura's lips, her thumb tracing Fiona's bottom lip possessively. "Good." She leaned in until their breath mingled, the club's bassline thrumming beneath them. "Because I want you helpless." The words sent heat pooling low in Fiona's belly. "I want you aching with every second they tease you, and I want you knowing you won't get a single ounce of relief unless I give it to you."

Fiona glanced across the room, seeing Lila and Evelyn talking with two other women at the bar. She marveled at the idea of them performing for her in private and wondered how long she'd have to wait before it happened. She looked at the dance floor, seeing a few couples dancing there, and quickly looked back at Laura. "Shall we dance again?"

Laura smirked. "You want more excitement? Wouldn't you rather wait for our private viewing?" She ran her fingers down Fiona's arm, making her shiver. "Or do you still want to be seen?"

Fiona bit her lip, torn between anticipation and embarrassment. Laura chuckled and stood up, pulling her onto the dance floor, guiding her hips with firm hands. "I should have known," she murmured against Fiona's neck. "You can't resist the opportunity to be seen." She punctuated her words with a sharp nip to Fiona's collarbone. "You just can't resist it."

The music pulsed around them, heavy bass, slow and sultry, and Fiona felt Laura’s thigh press between hers, insistent and relentless. Evelyn’s laughter from the bar carried over the beat, taunting, distracting. Laura’s grip tightened. "Eyes on me," she ordered, tilting Fiona’s chin up with two fingers. "You’re mine right now. Not hers."

Fiona’s breath hitched as Laura’s hand slid down her spine, possessive and claiming. The heat of the club, the press of bodies, the way Laura’s lips brushed her ear, it all blurred into a dizzying haze. She arched instinctively, craving more friction, more of Laura’s punishing control. "You like this," Laura murmured, her voice dark with satisfaction. "Being paraded. Being mine in front of everyone."

Fiona nodded. "It's true. I like being claimed in public. I want people to see I'm yours."

Laura's laugh vibrated against Fiona's throat, low and approving. "Then let them see." Her hand slid down Fiona's back to grip her hip, guiding her into a slow, deliberate grind against her thigh. The music swelled, brass and strings weaving through the bass, and Fiona gasped as Laura held her so tightly.

"Let's make the most of this," Laura murmured, her voice barely audible over the drums, "because we probably haven't got very long before the stage dancers return."

"They were very clever, weren't they?" Fiona mused. "Those quick changes were very well done."

Laura’s fingers dug into Fiona’s hips, stilling her movement as a slow smirk curled her lips. "Clever?" Her voice dripped with amusement, low enough that only Fiona could hear. "Darling, I think the word you're looking for is - sexy." She punctuated the word with a sharp roll of her pelvis against Fiona’s, drawing a bitten-off gasp. "Don't you think so?"

Laura’s fingers traced the dip of Fiona’s spine beneath her dress, her grip alternating between punishing and teasing as they moved against the rhythm. "Tell me," she murmured against Fiona’s flushed skin, her breath scalding. "When Evelyn and Lila start their little show, when they’re bare and writhing just for you, what’s the first thing you’ll want to do?" Her teeth grazed Fiona’s earlobe. "Be honest."

Fiona's breath stuttered as Laura's question coiled around her, the heat of the dance floor suddenly unbearable. "I'd want..." Her voice faltered, her hips grinding reflexively against Laura's thigh. "I'd want to touch them." The confession spilled out in a rush, her nails biting into Laura's shoulders as if bracing for punishment.

Laura’s grip tightened instantly, her fingers pressing bruises into Fiona’s hips as the music pulsed around them. "Oh?" The single syllable was a blade, sharp and dangerous. She leaned in until her lips brushed Fiona’s ear, her breath scorching. "You’d disobey me so easily?"

Laura’s fingers slid up Fiona’s throat, pressing just enough to make her pulse flutter visibly beneath the skin. "You’d really reach for them?" she murmured, her voice dripping with dark amusement. "After I explicitly forbade it?" The music throbbed around them, but Fiona could hear nothing except the razor-edged promise in Laura’s tone.

Fiona’s breath hitched as Laura’s fingers tightened, not enough to cut off her air, just enough to remind her who held the reins. "N-no," she whispered, her hips stilling against Laura’s thigh. "No, I wouldn’t disobey. I only said I'd want to."

Laura's grip eased into a slow caress, her nails tracing the delicate hollow of Fiona's throat. "Good girl," she purred, the words vibrating against Fiona's flushed skin. The music crescendoed around them, its rhythm syncing with the frantic pulse beneath Laura's fingertips.

Then the music fell away and came to a halt. Fiona knew what that meant. Her skin was humming from Laura’s touch, and she still hadn't loosened her hold, but now the dancers were back. Around them, she could feel a buzz of anticipation, though the stage remained in darkness for now, creating suspense.

When the curtain eventually rose, the three dancers stood motionless, dressed in long silk robes that shimmered under the stage lighting. Their music soon began and they started to dance, Fiona immediately realizing that this wasn’t the same performance as before. Their movements were much slower, more deliberate, each step calculated to draw the eye.

The middle dancer broke the line, stepping forward to perform a solo dance at the front of the stage. Fiona recognized her as the emerald dancer and she wore emerald again this time, her long robe trailing behind her as she moved so gracefully, her hands sliding up and down her own body in a teasing way that made Fiona catch her breath.

The emerald dancer peeled away to her left, rejoining the line, the dancer on that side moving into the middle. This was the former sapphire dancer, who now wore a robe of sky blue. She began to dance, her hips rolling in slow circles, her hands moving up her body, slipping beneath the robe to tease at her own flesh beneath. Fiona’s breath caught as the fabric gaped, revealing flashes of smooth skin, the dancer’s movements calculated to tantalize but never fully reveal.

Laura’s fingers tightened around Fiona’s wrist, her thumb pressing into the pulse point as if monitoring her reaction. "She’s good," Laura murmured, her lips brushing Fiona’s ear. "But not as good as you’d be if I put you up there." Fiona shuddered, her stomach tightening at the thought, equal parts terror and longing.

The sapphire dancer arched backward, her robe slipping down just enough to expose one of her shoulders, before she twisted away, leaving Fiona aching for more. The third dancer stepped forward, the former ruby dancer, now in bright pink, her movements sinuous as she eyed the audience and started to untie the sash of her robe. Fiona guessed it was a tease, and she was proven right when the pink dancer peeled away, the trio reforming their line.

Laura's chuckle vibrated against Fiona's spine. "Titillation," she murmured, her teeth grazing Fiona's earlobe. "They do it so well." Fiona nodded her agreement, watching the trio’s robes shimmer under the shifting lights, their movements languid yet precise, every sway of a hip, every slow peel of fabric designed to stoke the audience’s hunger.

The emerald dancer now came forward again, her fingers teasing the knot of her sash, her gaze locking onto Fiona’s. Her fingers loosened her sash with agonizing slowness, her eyes never leaving Fiona’s as the silk robe parted just enough to reveal the curve of one bare shoulder. The dancer’s lips curled into a smirk as she spun, the robe flaring open to flash a sliver of toned thigh before she quickly snapped it shut again.

The emerald dancer retreated, her robe swaying tantalizingly as she rejoined the line, leaving Fiona’s pulse hammering. Laura’s fingers slid up her arm, possessive and slow. "Enjoying the show?" she murmured, her breath hot against Fiona’s neck.

Before Fiona could answer, the sapphire dancer stepped forward, her sky blue robe slipping off one shoulder entirely, baring pale skin. She arched her back, the fabric pooling at her elbow, a calculated tease. Her robe slid lower, revealing the swell of her breast, before she caught the fabric with a casual flick of her wrist, leaving Fiona trembling with frustration. Laura’s grip tightened, her nails biting into Fiona’s thigh as she leaned in, her voice a velvet threat. "Patience," she whispered. "You’ll get your fill soon enough."

The pink dancer took her turn next, her movements slower, more deliberate, her fingers tracing the neckline of her robe, before sliding it down just enough to reveal the dip of her collarbone. Fiona’s mouth went dry as the fabric clung precariously, the dancer’s smirk widening when she noticed her rapt attention.

Laura’s hand tightened around the back of Fiona’s neck, her voice a dark whisper. "You’re overdoing it. You're staring." Fiona swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry as the pink dancer’s robe slipped another inch, revealing the barest hint of cleavage before she snapped it shut with a laugh.

Laura’s lips brushed Fiona’s ear, her whisper laced with mock reproach. "Is it polite to show such great interest in them, when you came here with me?" Fiona tried not to look too focused on the dancers, but the emerald one’s sash was now undone entirely, her robe almost gaping open with every spin, only for her to snap shut before revealing too much.

Laura’s fingers traced Fiona’s jaw, forcing her attention back. "You’re forgetting yourself," she murmured, her thumb pressing hard against Fiona’s bottom lip. "You shouldn't look at them so hungrily." But as she said that, the blue dancer's robe slipped entirely from one shoulder, pooling at her elbow, a deliberate provocation, and Fiona's breath caught again.

"You're forgetting who owns you tonight," Laura hissed, her lips right on Fiona's earlobe. "I'm going to have to deal with you." Before Fiona could reply, the dancers’ music swelled, and the pink dancer took her turn again, swaying seductively as she came forward. She very slowly and deliberately untied her sash, allowing her gown to flap free, but somehow it didn't fall open to reveal anything.

The pink dancer went spinning away and the trio reformed their line once more, leaving Fiona feeling denied once more. "You're right," she said. "I've overstepped the mark tonight and I have no excuse. I'm a bad girl and I ought to be punished."

Laura's grip on Fiona's jaw tightened, her nails pressing crescent moons into pale skin as she leaned in, her breath hot with promise. "Oh, you will be punished," she murmured, her voice a velvet blade, her pupils dilating rapidly, black swallowing blue. "But not here. I know you'd like to be humiliated in front of everyone, but I'm not prepared to give you that thrill."

The emerald dancer broke the line and made her way forward again, locking eyes with Fiona, who reveled in the eye contact. It made her feel as though the emerald dancer was performing just for her. An additional excitement in what was already a very exciting performance.

This time the emerald dancer not only untied her sash, but removed it completely, allowing it to flutter to the floor. Her robe gaped open with the sash gone, revealing flashes of bare skin beneath, a teasing glimpse of thigh, the curve of a hip, before she twirled away, the fabric swirling just enough to keep the audience guessing. Fiona’s pulse hammered in her throat, her fingers clenching uselessly against Laura’s thighs behind her, as the dancer’s smirk had promised more.

Laura’s fingers slid from Fiona’s jaw to her collarbone, pressing down with deliberate pressure. "You need taking in hand," she whispered, her voice rough with barely leashed control. Meanwhile, the emerald dancer’s robe fluttered open again, showing a flash of thigh and the hint of a hipbone, before she snapped it shut with a knowing smile.

The blue dancer now took her turn for a solo dance, also removing the sash from her robe and discarding it, causing the robe to slip precariously from both shoulders as she arched backward. It threatened to gape open completely, before she straightened and caught it at the last second with a practiced flick of her hand.

Fiona’s gasp was lost in the collective murmur of the crowd, her skin burning under Laura’s searing grip. The blue dancer had retreated now, but the ghost of her near revelation still burned in Fiona's mind, the way the silk had almost fallen open and her deliberate hesitation before covering herself again. Laura’s thumb dug into Fiona’s racing pulse. "You’re trembling," she observed, her smile razor-thin. "Are you that turned on?"

Laura’s fingers tightened around Fiona’s wrist as the pink dancer stepped forward, both hands on the sash of her robe. She untied it, as the other dancers had done, allowing it to slip away to the floor. The unsashed robe now swayed dangerously open with every calculated step. The audience held its breath, Fiona included, but the dancer somehow avoided the robe opening fully, managing to exercise control over it, before she went spinning away to rejoin the line.

The pink dancer's retreat left Fiona breathless, her fingers twitching against Laura's thigh as the trio fell into their usual formation. Then, in perfect unison, they stepped backward, once, twice, their unsashed robes swaying dangerously open with each movement. Fiona's nails dug into Laura's skin as the emerald dancer's robe slipped entirely from one shoulder, baring the elegant slope of her arm and the tantalizing hint of breast before she caught it at the last possible second.

Laura's grip on Fiona's wrist was iron, her voice a whisper against Fiona's ear. "I wonder what they're wearing under those robes," she murmured. "It can't be much. Lingerie only, I should think." As she spoke, the emerald dancer almost let her robe slip again, which would have answered the question, but again she caught it, avoiding any great reveal.

Fiona’s pulse stuttered as the emerald dancer came forward once more, her fingers sliding beneath the loose neckline of her robe, teasing the audience with the promise of what lay hidden. "We'll find out before long," said Laura. "They surely can't tease us for much longer."

The emerald dancer continued her solo dance, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles, when suddenly her companions stepped forward, flanking her at the front of the stage. The blue and pink dancers took hold of the emerald robe and pulled it off her shoulders and down her arms, withdrawing with the robe in their hands, leaving the emerald dancer fully naked.

The emerald dancer stood motionless for a heartbeat, her skin gleaming under the stage lights, before she arched into a slow, serpentine roll of her hips. The image before Fiona was being seared into her mind, the dancer’s lithe form, her pert breasts, the confident tilt of her chin, the way she’d smiled as the robe slipped away, and that utterly sensual roll of her hips.

The dancer slowly spun on the spot, and as she returned to face the audience, her companions returned to her side, bringing her robe with them. She held out her arms and they slid it back into place, the three of them then withdrawing and reforming their line.

Now the sky blue dancer came forward. She performed some classic burlesque bumps, then arched backward, almost daring her robe to fall away. It didn't, but now her body would be revealed anyway, as her companions arrived, one on each side. Sure enough, they pulled the sky blue robe off her shoulders, taking it away with them, leaving her fully naked.

The dancer's skin glowed under the stage lights, her body arching with practiced grace. She performed her bumps again and then slowly shook her breasts, letting the audience drink her in. She then spun on the spot, the cue for her fellow dancers to drape the blue robe over her once more.

Fiona’s breath became shallow as the pink dancer took center stage, her robe swaying very loosely with every exaggerated step. Laura’s fingers tightened around Fiona’s wrist, her nails pressing just shy of pain, a reminder, a claim. The pink dancer’s smirk was deliberate as she twirled, the silk of her robe catching the light, translucent enough to hint at the curves beneath but never quite revealing enough. Fiona swallowed hard, her pulse thudding under Laura’s grip.

The pink dancer arched her back, the silk of her robe clinging to her body like a second skin, before her companions stepped in, one on either side, their hands sliding beneath the fabric to peel it away in one fluid motion. She stood there naked, without moving for a moment, her skin shimmering under the lights. Fiona’s breath hitched as she then cupped her own breasts, rolling her hips in slow, mesmeric circles, her smirk sharp enough to cut glass.

The pink dancer now arched backward, her hands skimming down her torso in a slow, deliberate caress, before she slowly turned on the spot. Her pivot showed the taut curve of her back, the dimples above her hips, the way her muscles shifted beneath flawless skin, all details that were being burned into Fiona's mind. The pivot complete, her fellow dancers arrived to drape the pink robe back over her shoulders.

The trio reformed their line, dancing just a few more steps before coming to a halt and bowing in unison. The audience erupted in applause, lauding the dancers with a wall of sound. As it subsided, Laura's fingers interlaced with Fiona’s in a possessive squeeze. "You enjoyed that far too much," she murmured. "You’re going to pay for staring at those dancers so intently."

Laura’s fingers tightened around Fiona’s as they returned to their booth. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, Fiona’s pulse thundering under Laura’s thumb where it pressed against her wrist. "It must take a long time to learn to dance like that," Fiona said, taking a sip of wine. "I admit I was staring, but I found their performance utterly compelling."

"They know what they're doing," said Laura. "They know how to get an audience hooked."

"It's very clever," Fiona replied. "I could never dance like that."

"I asked you earlier if you wanted to be on the stage, and you said you didn't need a stage. Now you sound as though you'd like to be on stage."

Fiona's cheeks flushed as Laura's words lingered between them, sharp as the dancers' calculated movements. She traced the rim of her wine glass with a fingertip, buying herself a moment before answering. "I'm not saying I want to be on stage," she murmured. "I'm just fascinated by those who have got that talent."

"Despite your denials," Laura murmured, I think you'd like to be up there." Her fingers trailed up Fiona's bare arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Why don't you admit it? We both know you like an audience."

"I like an audience," said Fiona, "but I couldn't dance like that."

Laura’s laugh was low, almost predatory. "You wouldn’t need to dance like them," she said. "You'd have your own style. Just imagine it, the spotlight, the silk sliding off your shoulders, everyone holding their breath waiting to see you. You’d love the power of it. The control."

Fiona's fingers twitched against her wine glass, Laura’s words coiling around her like smoke, thick, intoxicating, impossible to ignore. "Maybe," she conceded, voice barely above a whisper. "But you would have to be up there too, undressing me."

Laura chuckled. "You don't think you could perform on stage without me holding your hand?"

Fiona considered her reply, but before she could say anything, Evelyn materialized in front of them. "Lila and I are ready to begin our private show," she said. "If you're still interested?"

“Still interested?” Laura echoed, her voice dripping with amusement as she turned to Fiona. “Well?”

Evelyn’s smirked as she waited for an answer. "If you’ll allow it," Fiona murmured, directing the words to Laura like a plea.

"Invitation accepted then," Laura purred, looking at Evelyn.

Evelyn's grin widened. "Okay, let's go." She led the way across the club and through a door at the side of the bar.

Fiona tried to remain outwardly composed, but her heart was racing. She was going to see Lila and Evelyn perform in private, and that surely meant seeing them naked in private. The thought was exhilarating.

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