Shifter Witch On Hell's Road: Book One (2 page)

I walked to the w
all of lockers all confident, put my padlock on one of them, and started to strip out of my clothes. I just took it all off in front of them. No need to be shy. Better to stick my cooch out there and let them know I wasn’t afraid. A few of them watched me get undressed with smirking bitchy looks on their faces. But they soon went back to waxing or primping or left the room.

I slipped into my gear— a
black leather g-string with an o-ring on the side for easy removal, a black string bikini bra, and six inch platform heels with transparent bottoms. I’d sold off my expensive gear to keep food in my mouth after I lost all my shit, but somehow managed to keep this stuff. It wasn’t great, but it would work.

I shove
d the backpack in the locker, pulled out my makeup bag, and sat at the mirror. The girl sitting next to me had long red hair and dark eye makeup. She looked over at me through the mirror.

“
Hi, I’m Cherry,” she said putting on a third coat of lipstick.

“Shadow,” I said
, brushing the tangles from my long hair. The black dye was fading out and showing signs of my natural blonde underneath. I looked like horse crap. I took a straightener to my hair and then used product to make it sleek and shiny. I rubbed on some foundation and powdered my face. Then I drew wings over my eyes with a black eyeliner pencil, buffed my cheeks with rouge, and put on deep red lipstick.

After I finished,
I stood to examine myself. I looked amazing. I’d lost about ten pounds since I first turned into a raven, cuz you know, I was practically starving. But the muscle tone in my arms, stomach, and legs looked fantastic. My skin glowed like a glazed porcelain doll. The green of my eyes looked brighter and deeper than they ever had before.

I s
trutted out of the dressing room right up to the manager, cocked my hip, and stared him down. He looked up at me and nearly fell off his bar stool.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

He motioned to the DJ, and said, “Shadow’s up next.”

I walked toward the stage entrance and noticed B-Zar sitting right up in front of the stage. He had a couple of skanks crawling all over him and hitting him up for lap dances. He glanced at me and smirked. It made me feel small and vulnerable for a second. I hated that. But I hated seeing those girls on his lap even more.

I strutted up to the stage entrance and waited for my queue. The
last song died down and the dancer walked off stage. They announced me as a featured dancer and
Blow
by Kesha hit the speakers loud. I burst on the stage, grabbed the pole, and did a fast spin. My body felt light as a feather and nimble as a cat.

I climbed up
and spun my body upside down with my legs woven around the pole. I twirled and bent over backwards extending my arm gracefully.

I felt like my body could do anything.
I’d always been able to work the pole. I was a gymnast in high school, even though my poor ass parents couldn’t afford lessons outside of school. But my body had never felt so elastic and strong.

I tumbled down, twirling around the pole to come to a split at the base. Pulling myself up,
I worked the pole between my hands and showed the audience my ass. I played like I was shy as I gyrated down the stage. I rolled over on my stomach to thrust my ass in the air. Then I flipped over on my back and put my hands on my crotch like I was so excited I had to get myself off right then and there.

I
whirled around and spun back up on the pole. The feeling of lightness and strength felt so amazing I did combinations I never would have attempted before. The audience was awed. I could hear them reacting to the acrobatics as I flew through the air. I just hoped B-Zar and his bitches were looking. I doubted those sluts could do anything like this.

It was time to give them some skin so
I held myself up with my legs and untied my bra, letting it fall to the floor. I grabbed my tits and made a seductive face, then flipped back up and spun down the pole with my legs flying out behind me.

I strutted
across the stage, eyeing the audience as they watched me move. I saw B-Zar lift his glass to me and wink. I flipped my hair and went down on all fours accepting tips in my mouth and tits as the men salivated for my body.

The song was almost over
, and it was time for the big reveal. I went back to the pole and climbed up, hooked my legs, and unfastened my g-string. It half fell away, but hung to my body. I maneuvered myself to flip into a spread eagle. The g-string fell and the audience got an eye full of pussy.

I slid back down, keeping the view of my cunt available until I hit the floor and gathered my legs up to my stomach. I pulled myself back up the pole and the song ended.

I panted and walked down the stage to gather the rest of my tips and my clothes, and I strutted off stage.

I stood in the back, totally naked
feeling pretty satisfied with myself. My body buzzed, and I knew it was the raven inside me.

A
local girl with bleach blonde hair and fake tits brushed past me smacking my shoulder.

“Skank,” she said, as she pushed through the curtains onto the stage.

“Takes one to know one, bitch,” I muttered. I knew I had the crowd in a frenzy with my pole tricks and the rest of the girls were nervous.

I strutted out to the floor and saw Balthazar leaning back on his couch with
the same two girls still climbing all over him. Jealousy flashed across my brain. I walked right over there and stared the bitches down. His tie was loosened and the top buttons of his shirt were undone.

I cleared my throat loudly
, and they all looked up at me. B-Zar gave me a wicked smirk and the girls gave me devil eyes.

“Beat it bitches,” I said.

“Go find someone else,” said the pudgy brunette with the big smooshy boobs.

“Yeah. We’ll tell the manager you tried to pilfer our client,” said the petite blonde.

I crossed my arms and cocked my hip. B-Zar looked pleased with himself.

“Let me ask you this
, girls. Has he bought a dance from you or have you wasted half the night on his expensive suit?”

They looked at each other and then him, disgust rising in their faces. They stood and walked away on their six inch platforms. I sidled up to B-Zar and gave him a evil grin.

“Want a dance, fucktard?”

“When you put it like that, no.”

“Come on,” I said, grabbing his arm and pulling him up. I figured I’d get the night started off with him. Before I could get to the lap dance room, some dude called my name.

“Hey Shadow, how bought a lap dance?”

I turned and looked at the guy. He was short, thin and greasy. I wondered if he’d ever been laid in his life, and he must have been at least forty. B-Zar glared at him.

“She’s promised to me. Sorry
, old chap. Better luck next time.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t say anything as I p
ulled him to the lap dance room. I pushed him backward through the beaded curtains, and he flopped down on the couch behind him. I flipped the stereo on and an old Aerosmith song wailed through the speakers. I gave B-Zar a wicked smile and crept on his lap. I put my mouth right next to his ear with my chest crushed against his.

“I was cryin’ when I met you,” I
whispered.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” he said as I slowly slid my crotch over his thick, hard dick.

“Nothings changed,” I said looking into his face. My pussy pressed against his stomach as I straddled him.

“I do believe you are jealous!”

“No. I’m not. Just sit back and enjoy the ride before I change my mind.”

He shut his mouth
, and his eyes grew wide as I pumped his dick. I rose up and slid my bra off, letting my tits pop out right in front of his eyes. I rubbed them on his face. His hands slid up my ass, but I pushed them down on the couch.

“Ah-ah, no touching.”

The scent of his body and cologne filled my nose as I rubbed myself against his chest. He smelled of deep musk and wild roses.

“Mmm…” I said as his cock expanded under my pussy. I flipped around and did a reverse cowgirl on him then
opened the o-ring on my g-string. Letting it fall away, I pushed my body up so that my exposed pussy was right in his face.

“This is supposed to be enjoyable?” he said behind me.

I flipped around, totally naked now, and stared him in the face.

“What? Are you queer?”

“Not particularly, but this feels more like torture than pleasure. I can’t believe people pay for it.”

He had a pained look on his face. It just made me laugh. I rubbed on his extremely hard
, extremely large cock through his pants and leaned in to lick his ear. His arms encircled me and he tilted my face up to his lips. His warm, wet mouth opened on mine. Our tongues entwined while his hand reached around my ass. He kissed me deeply and tickled at my wetness.

I
exhaled sharply, overwhelmed by excitement. I was done fighting it. His body was hard as a rock and solid muscle under my chest. His arms held me like a clamp while his fingers expertly rubbed my pussy. I moaned and reached down to unbutton his pants. I wanted to feel his dick so bad. He kissed my neck and pushed his fingers inside my sopping wet hole. I unzipped his pants and reached inside his briefs. His cock popped up into my hand.

I stroked the long
, thick shaft in my hands while he fingered me. In and out. His fingers slowly fucked my pussy while his thumb rubbed my clit. I could feel moisture drip from the tip of his cock. I wanted to put it in my mouth. I wanted to jump on it and let it sink deep inside me.

The thought of his massive pole pushed
up inside me made a tidal wave of lust wash over me. Aerosmith sang the last note of the song.

He pulled his fingers out of my pussy and smiled at me. He looked smu
g and satisfied with himself. I wanted to keep going, I needed to come, but he pushed me off and stood, buttoning his pants.

“Get your ass back on the flo’, hooka,” he said with an evil grin.

“What the fuck!” I yelled.

He
was right, I wouldn’t make my floor fee if I spent all night riding B-Zar’s cock. I stood and strutted out of the lap dance room. My pussy felt heavy and tight like an itch that needed scratching.

A bouncer turned right into me as I left. The bouncer had a clipboard and wanted to know how many dances I
’d clocked. My floor fee was going to be the same no matter what, but I guess they liked to keep a running total.

B-Zar
had gotten up at just the right moment. If they had caught him finger banging me like that, they would have probably kicked us out.

I still had some money to make tonight so I left B-Zar standing near the bouncer. I went to the skinny
, geeky guy from before. He sat in front of the stage drooling over the latest dancer, and I asked him if he still wanted a lap dance. B-Zar lurked in the distance as I led the geeky dude to the lap dance room.

He sat in the couch were B-Zar had just been, and I
flipped on the stereo. A Miley Cyrus song played, and I started my dance. Something in me just wasn’t into it. Lap dancing is a job, like any other job. Most people don’t like what they do for a living. But at that moment, the thought of crawling on that dude’s crotch made me want to retch. He wasn’t even close to the grossest guy I’d ever danced for. It bothered me.

Stripping
was what I did. I figured it must be B-Zar’s fault for getting me all hot and bothered. I’d never done anything like that in the club before.

When I crawled on
the geek’s lap I smelled the scent of moldy laundry and sweat. Not exactly erotic. I gave him a good grind as the music played and when it was over I told him he could keep going for another twenty-five bucks. He bought a few dances and then excused himself to go jack off in the bathroom.

Left without
a client, I had to go troll the room for another mark. This was the part of the job that I liked the least. The girls would walk around the room talking up the guys and flirting until someone bought a dance. The dudes really knew how to draw it out so you’d waste all your time with them while they never intended to buy a dance. With floor fees climbing over $150 a night, wasting time on some jackass wasn’t an option.

I scanned the room, looking for someone half way tolerable. I saw shy a youngish dude near the back of
the room. He looked college age and probably broke. None of the other girls were trolling him. I figured I’d give it a shot. Guys like that were usually too chicken shit to ask for a dance.

I walked right up to him. He wasn’t bad looking so the idea of grinding his cock didn’t make me feel like vomiting.

“Hey sugar, want a dance?” I said, running my finger down his chest. I glanced over at B-Zar who stood off to my left. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked kind of pissed. I smiled inwardly. The thought of making him jealous filled me with vicious glee.

I ran my hand up the boy’s
hip while looking at Balthazar. The college guy stuttered, “Sure, I’d like a dance,” while staring down at my half exposed tits.

I took his hand and
led him toward the lap dance room. I gently pushed him down on the couch and strutted around a little bit, showing him my body. I flipped on the stereo and began to dance to a hip hop song I’d never heard before. Crawling on his lap, I pushed my chest into his body and rubbed his crotch with my thigh. He moaned softly and leaned back, keeping himself from grabbing me.

His face looked tortured and his dick instantly turned hard. I let myself bob on it a bit and turned around and leaned my back against him. Pulling off my bra, I let him watch me rub my hands over my tits as I rocked on his cock. I rolled down so that my hands were on the floor and my ass
was pointed up in this face. I reached up and unfastened my g-string.

The fabric fell away and I heard him mutter, “Oh God.” When I leaned back I could feel a damp patch on his jeans under my thigh.
Gross!
I scooted back and stood in front of him. He blushed crimson and ran his hand through his hair. I gave him a pat on the cheek and was reaching for my bra when I heard a high pitched scream from the front of the house.