Christian liked slutty behavior… In his playroom, that is. In public places? Not so much.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Elliot hollered, downing his fourth beer of the night.

Christian ignored his brother, wanting to get the hell out of the bar as soon as possible. His mother had begged him to spend more quality time with his family, so Christian decided that the least he could do is spend a Friday night with his oldest sibling - which turned out to be a very bad idea. He would rather be looking at paint chips and wallpaper fabrics with Mia, instead of listening to his brother's sex jokes and vulgar suggestions.

"I'm not going to a strip club," Christian declared, not amused in the slightest. He took a swig of his whiskey, then later regretted such actions. For the life of him, he could never understand why Elliot insisted on spending money at such low-class places.

"Bro… Are you gay?" Elliot asked, genuinely concerned. Christian rolled his eyes, "I know you've never brought a girl home and you act like you don't even care about sex-"

"-I'm not gay, Elliot," Christian reassured, his tone somewhat humorous. Oh, if only his family knew what he really did on the weekends. "I just prefer to experience certain… Intimacy in the privacy of my own home," he finished, taking another swig of his whiskey. He grimaced. God, it was like he was poisoning himself.

"See, that's your problem," Elliot yelled over the chatter of the pub, leaning closer to his brother, "You never get out of your comfort zone. You're too pent up. Let go of some of that control and enjoy the waves for once, baby!" Elliot slammed his fists on the bar table, whooping and hollering.

Christian frowned. "I… 'enjoy the waves' all the time. I take the boat out, I go parasailing-"

"Dude, shut the fuck up," Elliot interrupted, "Everything you just mentioned can be done by a sixty-year old grandpa. Hell, look at you," he gestured towards Christian, "You're wearing a fucking suit to a bar. A bar where they sell two dollar beers."

I've done shit you've never even seen before, Christian silently spat at Elliot, but didn't respond. In a way, Elliot was right - the only time Christian really let loose was when he was with one of his submissives - but even then, he was always in control. Maybe, for once, he should just be a normal twenty-seven year old.

"I'm not saying that I'm going to enjoy this…" Elliot perked up at Christian's words, his eyes lighting up like a child's in a candy store, "but I guess we could go… But only for a half hour," Christian agreed, somewhat already regretting his decision.

Elliot slammed his fists on the bar table once again, "Hell fucking yeah!"

"I tell you, bro, this is going to be the best night of your fucking life," Elliot assured, practically bouncing up and down. Christian rolled his eyes at his brother's immaturity. How could he possibly be the oldest sibling?

Christian and Elliot walked down the street towards the club, the fluorescent light of "Vixen" stripclub glittering in the distance. As they grew closer, Elliot got more excited, while Christian filled with dread. He didn't know what to expect - would they try to touch him? More than anything, he hated when someone invaded his personal space, and strippers relied on touch in order to please their customers. He contemplated walking back to his car, but decided that his brother would, in fact, think he was gay - and even worse, would never let him hear the end of it.

He could hear his brother now: Hey, everybody, I tried to take Christian to a strip club and he fucking chickened out!

No, Christian thought to himself, I'll suck it up. What's the worse that could happen?

"So, these strippers… Do they touch you?" Christian asked, feigning an air of nonchalant curiosity.

"Woah, look who's a little hornball," Elliot teased, "they'll touch you in all the right places for a few extra bucks during a private dance."

Okay, so all he had to do was avoid a private dance. He could do that; it wasn't like the thought was all that attractive in the first place. He didn't know those girls or what kind of diseases they carried. He wasn't one to play into stereotypes, but come on - they're half naked every night - and most don't make their money off of simple show-and-tell.

They finally reached the entrance, where Elliot opened the door wide and beckoned Christian inside. "Ladies first," he teased, swatting Christian on the back.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, shut the fuck up," Christian muttered.

The stripclub was dimly lit, the flashing, colorful lights casting shadows on the many faces inside. It was a full house, with old and young men alike - even some women were present. The club was smoky and smelled of cigars and cigarettes; maybe even a hint or marijuana here and there. A techno sound played through the stereos as scantily-clad females walked around, taking the orders of the many men inside the establishment.

Christian didn't fit in at all.

Elliot, on the other hand, had already left his side to go chat up a tall, petite blonde at the bar. He rolled his eyes, but contemplated following him. He knew that Elliot wouldn't want him cockblocking him - and he had no idea how to be a wingman - so he stood at the entrance of the stripclub looking rather awkward.

He felt like a lanky, pubescent teen just standing there with his dick tucked between his legs, so he mentally steeled himself and rolled his shoulders back, making sure to exuberate confidence. He worked hard to get to where he is now, and he'd be damned if he loses control over a seedy club filled with old geezers, horny youngsters, and a few promiscuous women.

He sauntered over to the main stage, where a curvaceous woman with raven-colored hair was finishing her act. She was pretty, but not Christian's type. It was slightly entertaining to watch her bend, twist, and shake - but not entertaining enough to see what all the rave was about. If anything, he'd pay more money to see these women tied up and writhing underneath him.

Her act ended with a chorus of hoots and hollers, all the men - and a few women - enjoying the sight of her body. She bowed and blew the audience a kiss, collecting her money and her top off of the stage before exiting. Christian loosened his tie and settled back into his chair. He had twenty-five more minutes left, so he decided he might as well get comfortable.

The announcer stated that a Scarlett Heat would be coming on next, which made the crowd go wild. Christian raised an eyebrow. Apparently this Scarlett Heat was very popular, which peaked his interest. While he waited for the stripper to take her place on stage, he ordered a Bourbon, which tasted much better than the one from the bar they had just came from. He sighed contently as it slid smoothly down his throat. As he sipped his drink and lounged in his chair, he realized that this place wasn't as bad as he had thought. No one could see each other, so there was no awkward conversation. The liquor was good and the women were pretty, even if they weren't exactly his type.

Suddenly, the bright stage light dimmed, taking on a reddish hue. The audience buzzed excitedly, the men already taking out their wallets. Christian sat up, his elbows perched on the table in front of the stage. He had no idea what to expect, but the suspense was exciting him and making him anxious. About ten seconds later, he saw a pale, toned leg peek out from the left side of the stage. The men whistled, a few already throwing their dollars.

A body soon followed, and boy was it a nice body. The girl was petite, yet curvy - if that was even possible. Her pale skin contrasted against the bright, sparkling red outfit she had on. Her breasts were full and strained against her brassiere, while her ass was tight and full. It wasn't too much - just the right amount to be enjoyable.

She winked at the men, a small smirk crossing her scarlet-tinted lips. She bit her lip, causing Christian to take a quick breath. Something about her biting her lip caused a stirring in his pants. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He mentally cursed himself - he was exactly like the old geezers sitting a few seats down from him.

The girl flicked her hair over her shoulders, the mahogany brown ringlets cascading down her back. She stepped towards the pole, gliding along it smoothly. She settled in the front of the pole, her back to the audience - directly in Christian's line of sight. She kneeled down, the movement causing her tight shorts to accentuate the outline of her ass even further.

Christian felt like he might die.

She sat still for a moment, Christian still mesmerized by her form. Suddenly, a hypnotic, upbeat song blasted through the speakers, which prompted the brunette to move. She rolled her head - sultrily - to the beat, her hair swinging with each movement. She slowly stood up, her hips swiveling and her hands roaming across her body. She started at her thighs, then roamed up towards the sides of her body, and finally her shoulders. She looked over her shoulder, a seductive smirk planted on her face.

She grabbed the pole once again, this time she wrapped her right leg around the pole and spun, her left leg sticking out. The men whistled and jeered, throwing more money onto the stage. She climbed higher up, spinning this time with both legs outstretched. Christian was flabbergasted, wondering how a person could do such things.

Not that he was complaining.

She slid down the pole, once again back on the ground. She continued to swivel her hips, this time walking closer to the audience. She ran her fingers down her body, slightly squeezing her breasts when she reached them. She licked her lips, crouching down on her hands and knees. She crawled towards certain men, blowing them kisses. They each took turns placing money in the waistband of her shorts. Christian frowned as he watched her, unhappy with the way the men looked at her and touched her. He was almost… Territorial.

She got off the ground and walked back towards the pole, grinding seductively on the cool metal. She shook her head to the beat of the song, her hair whipping across her face and body. She held onto the pole while she leaned backwards, her face upside down to the audience. As she looked back, she made eye contact with Christian. His jaw tightened and he held onto the table harder. She smiled at him, then bit her lip.

Christian groaned, trying to tame the lascivious and immoral thoughts he had of what he'd like to do to her. As the song sped up, the beat dropping, Scarlett Heat's movements became more erratic… More wild and untamed. She walked around the pole, taking a quick spin, then she stood in the center of the stage. She reached around her back, unstrapping the hooks on her brassiere. Christian watched, his eyes trained on her every movement. To his surprise, they were met with a pair of red, dangling pasties as she dropped her top onto the stage. She raised her arms, moving her chest suggestively. The men clapped and whistled, as if not seeing all of her exposed form turned them on more. She continued her dance, her movements getting more erotic and lustful as the song continued.

Christian loosened his tie even more - and briefly deliberated if he should unzip his pants, but thought better of it - before he opened his wallet. He pulled out two bills, clasping them between his index and middle fingers. He beckoned her towards him, to which she smirked and slowly made her way down the stage. She bent down, opening the waist to her shorts. Christian placed the money in her shorts, making sure to lightly touch the skin of her abdomen.

She quickly grabbed his hand and moved in closer, her lips right to his ear. "It's gonna cost a little bit more if you want to touch, sweetheart," she whispered, licking the outer skin of his ear. Her voice was like wind chimes, smooth and melodious. If he wasn't seeing with his own eyes how seductive she was, he would've thought she was young and innocent from her voice alone.

Christian grabbed her tighter, not wanting to let her go. Her eyes grew wide, to which he immediately loosened his grip. He didn't want to scare her for Christ's sake. She stood up, taking quick glances in Christian's direction every few moments. She did a few more turns on the pole and her dance was finished. The men clapped and cheered, throwing more money at her. She collected every single bill, then hesitated when she bent down to reach her top. She looked at Christian before she retrieved it off the ground and threw it in his direction. He caught it without thinking, the shimmery fabric feeling rough across his skin.

She smirked, then turned around and sashayed off the stage, her ass cheeks slightly hanging out the ends of her shorts. Christian licked his lips and shook his head. With her gone, the men quieted down and talked amongst themselves. Christian, however, was still staring at the stage; wondering what the hell just happened to him. He came to a stripclub - which he never would've done in a million years - and ended up being completely mesmerized by a random brunette who calls herself Scarlett Heat. To make things even crazier, he gets to walk away with her top. He shook his head, still dazed.

"Woah, go get 'em tiger," Elliot praised, gesturing towards the bright red top placed in Christian's hands, "someone must've liked you."

Christian furrowed his eyebrows, "Yeah, I think I liked them too."

This idea has been in my head for a while, so I finally got it down on paper (or my computer screen, to be technical). Tell me what you think.