Fuchsia Fox: "Cat Scratch Fever", by Centurion

[flirty_but_nice]

Hey guys. Here is yet another in the backlog of Fuchsia Fox stories, ready for posting. I hope you enjoy and can't wait to hear your feedback!

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Fuchsia Fox: "Cat Scratch Fever"
By Centurion


Author Notes – Be warned this is another of Flirty's ideas that is mostly Jennifer. The Fox puts in a brief appearance in costume in Chapter 2 and again in Chapter 6. It was fun to write, though! … Centurion]

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Chapter 1 -- Alexandria, Virginia


It took a moment for Jennifer Fletcher's eyes to adapt from the bright sunshine to the dimly lit interior of the club. As the door eased shut behind her, what she saw was a long and narrow room, lined with booths on both sides. Halfway along its length was a bar on the left-hand side, with a featured dance stage on the right-hand side opposite. As Jennifer approached the bar, she could see that the club continued on the other side with private curtained booths on both sides. At the far end was a double swinging door with a neat sign saying "Employees Only".

The time was 12:30, and the club was about a quarter full of men having lunch while watching the attractive, scantily-clad dancer on stage. The music playing from the speakers was loud and seductive. A couple of other dancers were walking the floor, stopping and talking with some of the patrons. There were also a couple of scantily dressed waitresses.

The muscular bartender was looking Jennifer up and down, starting with her four-inch high heels and following her classy legs up to her black miniskirt with a slit on her right side, showing an intimate glimpse of creamy thigh. Above that, she was wearing a white button-up blouse with half sleeves, tight across the bosom to enhance the shapes of her firm little B-cups. Inside the gap of her cleavage, a tantalizing hint of black lace was visible. Finally he arrived at her face, framed with short brunette hair, and merely glanced at her brown eyes.

Having completed his inspection, the bartender asked, "What can I get for you, pretty lady?"

Jennifer felt butterflies in her stomach as her eyes followed the dancer on the stage, who was now taking off her bra and showing off her spectacular boobs. Jenn's cheeks felt suddenly hot. It wasn't too late to just turn around and leave. She felt her knees quivering as though her long legs wanted to do just that. But that would mean disappointing her husband, Martin.

She heard her voice reply, "I'm here to see Enrique. I have a 12:30 appointment."

"Ah, okay," the bartender said, turning and picking up a telephone receiver. "Hey boss," he said, "there's a chick here... Okay." Hanging the receiver up, he pointed toward the end of the room and said, "Just go through those doors."

"Okay, thanks," Jennifer said cheerfully. She continued down the center of the room, braving the appraising looks she was getting from the other girls as she passed -- the male customers were more focused on the by now mostly naked dancer on the stage. She tried not to let that distract her from her goal.

Passing through the swinging doors, Jenn found herself in the back-stage area forming a T-shaped hallway. To her right was an open doorway into a dressing room containing racks of costumes, a row of lockers, and a long, cluttered make-up table.

"You must be Jennifer," said a man with a rich, Latin accent.

Jennifer answered to the alias without a noticeable pause. "That's right," she said with a winning smile, extending her hand.

"I am Enrique, the owner and manager of the club." He was about average in height, with an olive complexion and a neat little moustache. He was dressed in a blue suit with a white carnation in the lapel. He took the hand she offered and gently drew it toward his lips, giving the back of her hand a barely-perceptible kiss. "My office is this way," he said with a smile.

Jennifer followed him down the left fork of the T-shaped hall and into quite a large office. It was dominated by a desk with a captain's chair, and a cluster of eight security monitors. On the opposite side of the office was a small, six foot by six foot stage, complete with stripper pole.

Once Jennifer was seated, Enrique sat behind his desk and called up a file on his computer screen. "Jennifer Traylor Fletcher," he said. "According to your online application, you are from Augusta, Georgia?"

"Yep," Jennifer said. "I've been here for a few years now. I came to Washington to attend American University."

"What was your major?"

"American History," the girl said. "I've had some odd jobs since then – proof reader, tour guide... Right now, I work... um, with documents, in archiving." Careful, Jennifer she told herself. You don't need to tell him your whole life story.

"A file clerk?" the manager said. "I didn't know anybody did that any more." Jennifer found herself relaxing. She had expected this whole thing to be sleazy, but Enrique struck her as charming and personable, asking questions out of genuine interest.

"It says on your application that you're married. How does your husband feel about you being an exotic dancer?"

Jennifer blushed just a little. "Actually, it was sort of his idea. Is that weird?"

"Not at all," Enrique said with a smile. "If I were your husband, I would want to show you off to the world, so that everyone would know how fortunate I was. Tell me," he said, eying her cleavage, "do you have any experience as an exotic dancer?"

"I have some experience as a web cam model," the girl said, "but you know, just for fun."

"Ah... the safety of solitude behind a computer screen. Live dancing is quite different. In both of them, you have to be a performer, selling the fantasy of your body. But live there is no barrier of distance between you and your guest. The trick is making eye contact, and teasing them into believing that a girl like you is attainable, tempting them into wanting to pay for table dances and private dances. Do you think you’d be able to do that? It takes a special girl to be convincing."

Jennifer was certain that her chair was purposefully lower than Enrique's in order to make her feel smaller. Her nerves were already getting the better of her. Suddenly she felt entirely inadequate and out of place. Her body was telling her to get up and run before it was too late. But then she told herself that it was already too late.

"Darling," she said with a smile, "flirting comes naturally to me. I’m sure I’ll have the guys eating out of my hands in no time at all.”

Enrique started to laugh, impressed by this woman’s confidence. "That's what I wanted to hear you say. Our club isn’t just all men, though. You’d be surprised how many women come in as well, often times with the boyfriends or husbands. Do you have anything against dancing for girls?”

"Um... I've danced for girls before," Jennifer answered. "And with girls."

Enrique leaned back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together. "It so happens we have a part-time opening, Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays from 6 p.m. to 11. Could you start tomorrow night?"

Inwardly Jenn felt her heart seem to leap up into her throat. Tomorrow? That soon? But she reminded herself that she wanted this over with as quickly as possible. This was a nice club and she didn't want to blow the deal. "That sounds great."

"Excelente!" Enrique said. "You are guaranteed $12 per hour, but that’s the floor. When you are on stage, all tips collected go into a tip pool shared with the music man and bouncers. Table dances in the open area are $10 per song. On stage and in the general area, you have to keep your panties on at all times and no touching is permitted. In the private rooms in back, the Charge is $25 per five minutes with a ten-minute minimum. If they want you nude with panties off, that’s an extra $50 up-front charge. If they want to touch you, that’s an extra $100 up-front charge a well. Your cut of those fees is twenty-five percent, so it's not unusual to clear $300 in a single afternoon. You’re not to do anything else other than the fee schedule I just told you. Do you understand?”

"Ahhh, I think so," Jennifer said, understanding that he was saying no prostitution allowed. "Where do I sign?"

"Not so fast, muchacha," the man laughed. "First you have to show me that you have what it takes to be a comfortable showgirl. Behind you is a little stage. I’m going to put on a little music, one song. It will be maybe three or four minutes. I want you to go over to the stage and dance to the music, doing a demonstration striptease, down to your panties. It is a little awkward, I know, but I'm sure you understand, yes?"

Enrique’s eyes were polite and yet piercing, probing to see how Jennifer would react to this next part of the process. Was she for real or just a pretender? Jennifer knew full well that this was the acid test. It was time to put up or shut up. She took a deep breath. "Right now, then?" she said, her heartbeat hammering in her ears.

***

Chapter 2 –

"Yes, just go over to the stage," Enrique said, "and I will turn on the music. Then just do what come naturally to you.” The club manager turned his chair around, punching the keys on the keyboard to bring up a music player on his computer, while Jennifer walked onto the stage with an outward calmness that belied all of the nervous butterflies that were filling her stomach.

A melodic song by The Cure began to play with a deep base beat. As Jennifer began to sway in time to the music, Enrique pulled up one of the visitor's chairs and sat adjacent to the stage to intently watch her audition.

The girl was slow and cool in getting her body in sync with the slow beat of the song. She reached out and grabbed hold of the stripper pole, using it as a prop do perform three or four agile spins. After a minute’s time, Jenn sauntered to the front edge of the stage, her seductive eyes locked onto the Enrique’s as she began to slowly unbutton each button of her blouse, revealing the back-lace demi bra underneath. Her pulse was throbbing in her veins, but she refused to let that stop her.

Jenn undid the last button, performing a slow, partial twirl so that her back was to her audience of one as she slipped the blouse off her right shoulder, giving him a smouldering look. Then she continued the smooth twirl around to bring herself facing him again as she removed the rest of her blouse from her alluring body, depositing the garment onto Enrique’s lap. Abruptly she turned and took exaggerated strides back to the stripper pole.

Grabbing the pole with her hands, Jennifer leaned back, wrapping her long legs around the cool chrome as she smoothly dropped down the pole, and then pulled herself hand over hand back up it. She did another slow spin, landing on her feet as she released the pole, again approaching the front of the stage. Slowly she began swaying her hips from side to side, gently bending her knees as she seductively reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. She brought her hands back around front, catching her bra before it could fall, massaging the flimsy nylon against her pert breasts.

Jennifer lowered herself to her knees, leaning forward toward Enrique, who instinctively reached out to take the bra out of her hands. The girl arched her back, her glorious coconuts fully on display as she twisted away and rose to her feet. The wide-open look of arousal in the man's eyes was stimulating. Contrary to her expectations, Jenn found herself enjoying this. She wanted to keep on dancing for him, making him want her, making him crave her.

But realizing that the song must soon be coming to and end, Jennifer reached behind her and unzipped the back of her miniskirt. Her lower body swaying from side to side, she began inching the skirt over her hips as she turned on the spot, slowly revealing the black thong bikini panties she was wearing underneath.

Enrique sucked in his breath, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as that sexy miniskirt slid down Jennifer's creamy thighs and to the floor. Jennifer stepped out of it and once again slowly sank to the stage on her knees, legs spread wide just as the song ended.

"That was fantastico!" Enrique said, still holding her bra in his hands. He handed it back to her, then got up and walked back to his desk as the girl picked up her discarded clothes and sat down in her chair, still topless, wearing only her shoes and thong panties, which were by now damp with arousal.

“You need to work on your timing," Enrique said, "but that's nothing. Business is usually slower on Tuesdays, and that will give you a chance to ease into it. Try to be here a little early, say 5:30, to get oriented. Is that acceptable to you?”

"More than acceptable," Jenn agreed. It wouldn't be a problem to skip out early from work a couple of times.

"If there are no more questions," Enrique said, "I just have some paperwork for you to sign."


***


Outside the club, Jennifer put on a pair of sunglasses and started walking down the street. She had no fears of being mugged; after all, this wasn't Leighton Street. It was actually a pretty decent, up-scale commercial neighborhood not far from the Alexandria waterfront. She glanced at her watch. Her audition had taken longer than expected, and she was going to have to hustle to get back to work before her lunch hour was over, especially since she needed to stop off at her apartment to change out of this risqué outfit and into more suitable clothes for her job as assistant curator of the National Archives.

On the other side of a corner cafe, the brunette found a narrow, secluded alleyway with no security cameras covering it. In a flash, her outer clothing had vanished, replaced by a sexy, two-piece purplish pink costume with its famous fox head chest emblem -- the uniform of her alter ego, the superheroine known as the Fuchsia Fox! Like an arrow, the gorgeous girl darted into the sky, streaking northward toward Arlington.

As she flew, Jenn began to wonder if it was worth all of this trouble. It had been nearly two weeks since Martin had first broached the idea to her. She had come home from one of her nightly excursions around the city, during which she had stopped an armed robbery and then saved a night-time cruise boat from sinking when its engine had unexpectedly exploded. Some of the passengers on the cruise had been world-famous lingerie models from Los Angeles on a publicity tour, and they had insisted that the Fox pose with them for the television news cameras.

"Just try not to upstage us too much," one of the models had said, laughing, which Jennifer had thought was pretty flattering.

So the superheroine had been feeling pretty good about herself when she had returned home to the apartment she shared with her husband, Martin. She had breezed through the balcony doors into the bedroom to find him in his pajamas stretched out on the bed, working on something on his tablet.

"How did it go?" he asked, pausing to watch his wife remove her bracelets of Ishtar and peel off her elbow length gloves.

"Okay, I guess," Jenn said. "Pretty standard night, really." Finishing with her gloves, she gracefully lifted her right leg like a flamingo so that she could unzip and remove the ankle boot on that foot without bending over. She did the same with her left boot.

Martin put his tablet aside, feeling aroused by the uniquely feminine elegance of her movements. "You do that so well," he said, moving along the bed toward where she was standing.

"Do what?" Jenn said distractedly, unfastening the rear strap of her halter top and letting the garment dangle. "Oh." Her cheeks turned rosy for a second as she realized he was talking about her impromptu striptease.

His strong arms snaked around her lissome waist, drawing her toward him, his hands sliding upward along her smooth bare back as he kissed her lips. "You get me so hot when you undress like that."

"I bet you say that to every superheroine you know," Jennifer said, teasingly.

"As a matter of fact," he said, nuzzling her ear, "being as how you're the only superheroine I know..." His left hand had settled around her waist, holding her close to him, while his right hand worked its way to the other strap of her halter, planning to finish the job she had started. But just then he felt a slight shiver in the silken skin of her neck.

"Angel? Is something wrong?"

"Martin, I..." she started. "I know it's silly. You know that my costume enhances my looks so that I won't be recognized."

Martin kissed her cheek. "And when people look at you, you're never sure how much is you and how much is the Suit." Jenn nodded as she cuddled against his broad chest. "Angel, you're the sexiest woman in the world to me, without the Suit. But there's a simple way to resolve this, once and for all. Do you remember that night we double-dated with Oscar at that strip club on Amateur Night?"

Jenn's cheeks flushed again. "How could I forget? But I was under the influence of the Reaper's gadget that night and--"

"I know. So do it again, this time fully in control of yourself."

"Another amateur night?"

Martin smiled. "Actually, what I was thinking of was the next step beyond that. Get a real job as an exotic dancer, submit an application and everything. I know that if we try we can find a nice, up-scale club that doesn't do full nudity."

"But Martin, I--"

"It only has to be for one night. Just to get this silly idea that your not sexy without the suite, out of your head, once and for all. Don't do it for me. Do it for you." He searched her beautiful brown eyes, watching her wrestle with the idea. Part of her really wanted to do it, but part of her was afraid. "If it helps," he said, "I'll make it a dare. I double-dare you."

To his relief, she broke into a smile. "All right, buster. You're on! Just don't come complaining to me if they want to sign me up full time."

That had been nearly two weeks ago. It had taken that long for Jennifer to find a suitable club and to actually work up the nerve to submit an online application. She and Martin had not spoken about it since. In fact, she hadn't even told him about the reply she had received which had set up this audition. Jenn knew that she was strictly an amateur at this. What she planned to do was to show up at the club on Tuesday and Wednesday to sort of learn the ropes and work the kinks out of her technique. Then she would invite Martin to watch her on Thursday night, and that would be it. And she would keep it a complete secret from him until then in order to surprise him. And boy, was he ever going to be surprised!


***


Chapter 3 –


The next evening, Jennifer arrived at the club at five thirty wearing an off-the-shoulder peasant top, a maxi-skirt and sandals. She met Carl the bartender, Jason the music man, Steven and Don the bouncers, and Mary and Trix, the two waitresses. Everyone seemed friendly and welcoming to the new girl. It was just like a regular job.

Then she stepped through the swinging doors into the "Employees Only" area and into a slightly different world. In the dressing room, she met the other dancers she would be working with on the evening shift, already changing from their street clothes into costumes.

"You must be Jennifer!" gushed a platinum blonde in white satin panties and a shelf bra that left the top halves of her pert breasts in view, including her pink nipples. "Enrique told us everything about you! I am Oksana." Jennifer couldn't help blushing as the girl gave her an enthusiastic hug, firmly pressing her nubile young chest against hers. "That is Rachel, and that is Alice. We're all going to be such good friends, I know!"

Rachel was a redhead, wearing leopard print undies as she perched in her chair, working on her make-up. She looked almost underage to Jennifer, even though Enrique had assured her in the strongest terms that the club made stringent efforts to keep everything legal and aboveboard. She paused in doing her lashes to give the new girl a smile. "Welcome to the Monkey House," she said. "Are you a banana or an orange?"

Jennifer frowned. "A what?"

"She's just being obtuse," said Alice, a brunette wearing black lace underwear. "Both of them have to be peeled to be enjoyed, obviously. But while a banana is stiff, an orange is juicier and more flexible. She's asking you if you're just in this for the kicks or if you plan to go the long haul."

"I'm... I'm not sure yet..." Jennifer answered.

"Don't let them discourage you before you even get started," Oksana said, her arm still draped around Jennifer's sylph-like body.

"That's right," Rachel agreed, sitting back in her chair and stretching languidly. "You're still a probie, so you won't even be eligible for the incentivization bonus for sixty days."

"Incentivization?" Jenn asked.

"Oh it's great!" Oksana enthused. "By the rates schedule, there’s a potential maximum earn of $1,200 per hour if you are booked in for private dances for the full hour with the pantyless and touching upgrades. You get twenty-five percent of that. But if you manage to earn fifty percent or more of the gross earn potential, your cut jumps from twenty-five percent to fifty percent of the total gross earn that week."

Jennifer felt butterflies in her stomach. "You can be booked up for private dances for a whole hour? Does that happen often?" Enrique had made it sound like it was mostly stage dancing.

"Well, true, none of us have quite hit the threshold yet. But I came close last week."

"It's a carrot they keep dangling in front of us like the Holy Grail," Alice said, getting into her costume, which was a black policewoman's hot pants jumpsuit. "Me, I'm just working here until I can break into porn videos. That's where the real money is."

"I wouldn't care," Oksana laughed. "I just like men enjoying my body. It makes me feel like a goddess."

"Camila does it every week," Rachel said, sourly.

"Who's--?"

Just then a beautiful young Latina with raven-black hair came bustling into the dressing room. Throwing her things into her locker, she started to undress without so much as saying hello to anyone. "That's my costume," she said to Alice. "Take it off."

"I thought you were doing the--"

"Take it off," the girl repeated, stripping to her underwear.

Jennifer heard male voices approaching outside in the T-shaped hall. Automatically she felt a rush of embarrassment with Oksana, Rachel, Camila and Alice all in their underwear and the dressing room door wide open. But the girls seemed quite unflustered, and Jenn reminded herself that she would have to get used to it.

"I'm not saying we're in trouble, Enrique," a short man with glasses and a drab gray suit was saying, "but we're barely in the black this quarter. If you could cut some expenses, maybe close down the kitchen or... you know what I mean..."

"That's Jonathan, the bookkeeper," Oksana whispered into Jenn's ear. "He adores me."

"I can't do that, Jonathan," Enrique replied flatly. "The club would never have gotten off the ground without her investment."

"But twenty per cent of the take every month?" the bookkeeper protested. "That's killing us."

"I know," the manager said. "I'll talk to her. She's sending her man Tony Thursday after next."

"Tony is coming here?" Jonathan said, sounding alarmed. "Thank you for warning me. That guy scares me. He causes trouble every time he comes."

"I know, but are you going to tell him that to his face?"

"Not hardly. I don't feel like suicide. Good evening, ladies," he added, waving to the girls through the open doorway and then leaving through the swinging doors.

"Jennifer!" Enrique said pleasantly, taking her hand and giving it a kiss. "I'm so glad to see you on time."

Camila went on doing her make-up, but the other three girls did not look at all happy. "Is it true what you were telling Jonathan?" Alice asked. "Tony is coming here?"

Enrique looked uncomfortable. "Yes, he is. I'll try to keep him away from you. Just... try not to get on his bad side while he's here."

"You mean he actually has a good side?" Rachel muttered. "I've never seen it."

"He is a Cossack!" Oksana said, almost spitting.

"In a perfect world," Enrique said, "we wouldn't have to deal with people like Tony. But I do not need to remind you that this is not a perfect world." He turned and went back toward his office.

Jennifer hurried after him. "Oh, Mr. Enrique? I have a question."

"Yes, Jennifer?" the manager said, smiling broadly. "Anything I can do to help."

"I've been thinking about what you said about the $100 up-front charge if a guest wants to touch me," Jennifer said, her cheeks reddening. "I was wondering... I get a choice in that, don't I? What I mean is, if I don't want them touching me, I can say so?"

Enrique looked blank for a second, as if the question had never come up before. "Of course, muchacha," he said. "We want you to feel safe here. We don't ask you to do anything you do not wish to do." He flashed her a quick smile. "But you are beautiful, and $100 is a lot of money. I would only suggest that you try it one time, if you feel comfortable doing so. It may not be as bad as you feared, no?"


***


On the other side of the dressing room, a short hallway led to a set of black curtains that opened directly onto the stage. Jennifer peeked through the tiny gap in the curtains at the main room and saw that the club had filled up rapidly between 5:30 and 6. The day shift dancers had already retreated through the swinging doors, and the patrons were beginning to get restless.

The colored lights around the edge of the stage began to suddenly blink in sequence as Jason the music man announced, "It's six o'clock and time to put aside your cares and troubles of the day. Time to sit back, have a drink or two, and let the sultry rhythms of the night take you to better place. Gentlemen, I give you... Camila!"

The music started and the spotlight on the stage snapped on to thunderous applause -- Camila was clearly the crowd's favorite. She did her solo in her policewoman uniform which had all the men drooling and banging on the tables. When she was done, men were almost mobbing her for private dances. Meanwhile the other girls each had their turns in order of seniority -- Oksana in a Sailor Moon costume, Rachel as a jungle queen, Alice in a sexy baseball player's uniform complete with cleats and high socks.

At 6:40, Jennifer took a deep breath and stepped through the curtains into the spotlight wearing the costume she had picked from the rack in the dressing room -- an "executive" wearing black high heels, a short, grey pin-striped skirt and a matching jacket, plus a pair of big black eyeglass frames and a toy cell phone from the props box.

Jenn was expecting Jason to play "She Works Hard For The Money", which would have been a terrible cliche. But to her surprise, she heard the slow intro to "Flashdance". Feeling the music, she began to pantomime talking into her prop phone, touching her glasses with a smugly superior look until she clearly mouthed, You're Fired! She paused, leaning her head and one slim shoulder wistfully against the dancer's pole as the long slow intro came to an end and the tempo of the music began to pick up.

Suddenly she stripped off her eyeglasses and grabbed the pole, making several energetic spins and twirls, wrapping her alluring legs tightly around the stiff chrome and caressing it like a lover, falling backwards and catching herself at the last second. After about a minute of this, she dismounted and strode forward to the very edge of the stage. With her eyes seeming to pierce every single man in the room, her fingers flicked loose the two buttons holding her jacket closed. Then with a sassy cock of her hips she opened the jacket, revealing that she was not wearing a blouse underneath, but only a racy red bra.

As the music continued to pound away with its relentless beat, the brunette spun around again, taking exaggerated steps back to the pole, where she did another spin or two with her jacket flying open. Dismounting again, she slipped the garment from her soft shoulders, trailing it behind her and letting it fall to the stage. Her pulse racing with excitement, she performed a flawless backwards somersault, doing another twirl around the pole that ended with her unzipping her skirt and letting it fall, showing off her matching red panties and wiggling her tempting little booty.

Jenn had everyone's attention now. Even the waitresses and the other girls paused to watch her. She danced freestyle for another minute, letting the music take over and move her arms and legs in a series of graceful high kicks and jetés. It was almost like one of her martial arts workouts with Barbara Wright. As the music at last wound down, she retreated back to the pole where she wrapped her arms around it, sinking to her knees. As the music died and the spotlight on her faded, only then did she realize that she had forgotten all about taking her bra off.

Nobody seemed to mind. There was a smattering of enthusiastic applause. Oksana was hopping up and down happily, her pigtails flying as several men approached Jennifer to book her for private dances. Enrique, standing by the swinging doors, gave her a thumb's-up sign.

But Camila, pausing between private sets, looked at her and scowled.

The evening seemed to fly past. With every dance, Jennifer's confidence grew. At first she felt awkward, but the other girls, Oksana especially, were good about giving her pointers. By 11 o'clock, she had done 12 private shows along with her six on stage performances. Four of them had requested pantyless, but she turned them down. She wasn't ready for that yet. But she felt so wired up with adrenalin that when she got home to Martin, she made love to him with wild abandon. He asked what was up, but she only smiled and said that it had been a good day at work.


***


Chapter 4 –


Wednesday night was more of the same. This time she started off wearing a short, flowered sundress and black sneakers, a sort of "country girl" look, and in her solo she danced to Sammy Johns' "Chevy Van". The contrast between the nubile innocence of her appearance and the way she twirled around that upright chrome pole with her dress waving in the wind -- and then to climb out of it revealing black lace panties underneath -- blew everyone away. That night she did 16 private performances, one of them lasting a full twenty minutes, and when the guest requested pantyless, Jenn was so excited at the thought that tomorrow night her husband Martin was going to be here watching her that she agreed without thinking. When it came down to it, it was difficult to do -- the very idea of letting a complete stranger see her neatly trimmed bush and her coosh set goosebumps breaking out on her flesh. But she did it, and it was just as Enrique had suggested, not so bad after all. In fact, she found it to be very arousing!

At 11 o'clock, Jennifer raced to the dressing room, hardly able to contain her excitement. How was she possibly going to keep this secret from Martin for one more day? Oh God, how was she even going to sleep tonight?

As she got her clothes from her locker, she found a voice mail waiting on her phone from Martin. "Hey, Angel, I'm really sorry but something came up. An emergency deployment to... well, I can't tell you where obviously. Damn, I can't even tell you how long we'll be gone. I'll call you again tomorrow if I can. I've got to go. I love you."

Jennifer's whole world seemed to collapse. Her husband was in the U.S. Army Special Forces, and these things happened from time to time. But why did it have to happen NOW? She couldn't even call him to tell him about... Omigosh! She suddenly realized -- these deployments sometimes lasted for two to three weeks. She had been counting on only working at the club for two days in order to learn the ropes, and then she'd quit. But if she quit now, she'd have to go through this whole business again with another club once the deployment was over.

Unless... Unless she simply kept working here part-time until he got back, however long that took!
On Friday night, she got a brief call from Martin. "Hey Angel. I wanted to let you know we're alright. Oscar's right here with me, and we're being careful. We're looking out for one another."

"Darling, I miss you so much!" Jenn gushed, curled up on the sofa. The secret that she was dying to tell him felt like a heavy weight on her heart, but she couldn't think of a way to say it. He had enough on his mind as it was. "Um... Can you tell me anything at all?"

"You know I can't, hon. It's classified."

"Any idea how soon you'll be back? I need to... that is, I need you so badly."

"I need you, too, Angel. But I can't say anything. Not even to tell you how long it's going to be."

He was only allowed to talk for a couple of minutes, and when he had hung up the phone, Jennifer stood on the balcony and looked out at the dark sky, feeling very alone and wishing that she at least knew what part of the world he was in.


***


All the next week, Jennifer had a difficult time concentrating on her work at the Archives. She kept catching herself daydreaming about her new part-time job. Her popularity among the patrons was climbing steadily, thanks largely to the advantage of her enhanced agility granted by the bracelets of Ishtar.

Tuesday night she performed in a open-front sorceress costume with a long, flowing skirt, almost like a robe, dancing to "You Can Do Magic", and everyone was amazed at the way she sometimes seemed to float on air. Wednesday night, she and Oksana did a duet together dressed in jogging outfits, shorts and cut off tops. They both got several private dances out of that one.

Thursday night she was dressed as a construction worker in a tight, white cropped t-shirt (with no bra) and jeans shorts, with an orange vest and a yellow plastic hard hat. Pantyless upgrades had become almost commonplace for her by now, but this night was the first time she allowed a guest to go with the full touching upgrade. He was a fairly young guy but somewhat overweight, what Jennifer would have called "portly". When she danced for him in the private room, he made a grab for her at once, while she was still fully dressed.

"Whoa, slow down," she said. "This is just the first song."

"Sorry, sorry," the guy said. "I'm sorry. You're just so amazing."

"Thank you," Jennifer said, "but you paid for half an hour. You've got to pace yourself. Sit back and relax."

She continued her performance, shucking off first the vest, then her t-shirt to reveal her braless tits, while he stared at her as though entranced. When it finally came time to shimmy down her shorts, he insisted upon helping, and since he had paid for touching, she had little choice but to let him. And then there she was, naked except for her panties, shoes and socks.

For a moment she was almost afraid he was going to have a coronary. Then, as she slowly swayed back and forth in front of him, his arms reached out around her waist, grabbing hold of her bubble butt and pulling her into his lap. He wasn't allowed to remove his clothes, but she could feel his hardness through his baggy cargo pants, rubbing against her moist coosh. It wasn't long before Jennifer herself was perspiring, riding his bulge to the insistent rhythm of the music playing over the sound system, while his lips worked their way down her bare chest, his mouth closing over her left breast and sucking hard at her nipple.

"Mmmmmm." Maybe it was because she had been without Martin for over a week, but Jenn couldn't believe how turned on she was! She felt as if she were going to orgasm at any moment. Fortunately he came inside his pants first, and that sort of broke the spell.


***


As Jennifer started her third week at the club, her extra job was beginning to feel like just another part of her weekly routine. The girls were all friends by now. Even Camila was beginning to unbend. Whenever Jenn thought ahead to the day when Martin came home and she could give this up, she almost felt sorry about it.

That Thursday night, she began to pick up on a certain tension among Alice, Rachel, and Oksana. It had been a fairly slow night. They were loitering near the bar around eight o'clock, Alice dressed in a sexy paramedic's uniform, Rachel in the executive costume, Oksana in the sorceress costume. Jennifer was dressed as a schoolgirl, in a green and black tartan miniskirt, a tight white shirt showing a black lace bra underneath, a black necktie, and white socks almost to her knees. In addition to that, since her own brunette hair was rather short, she had put on a red wig with pigtails in it.

They were watching Camila do her third stage performance of the evening, tonight wearing a sexy red and black Spanish flamenco dancer's dress trimmed with lace. Alice muttered something about "Tony", who was expected tonight.

Jennifer remembered on her first night hearing them talk about him, but hadn't paid a lot of attention at the time because she wasn't expecting to still be working here.

"He can't be that bad, can he?" she asked nervously.

"He's worse," Alice said. "Everybody's afraid of him. And he thinks he's entitled to free samples, just because he works for the Dark Lady."

"The Dark Lady?"

"That's what we call her," Rachel said, "because we don't know her name. She gave Enrique some money to start the club with, and every third Thursday of the month, she either comes personally to pick up her cut, or she sends Tony to do it."

"What's she like?"

"Ha-ha! You think she mingles with the likes of us?" Oksana scoffed. "She always wears a coat and a hat. Most of the time she goes straight to the office, but sometimes she takes a table and watches the show, especially if darling Camila is on stage."

Just then the doors of the club opened. The girls drew in their breaths sharply as though they expected to see the Devil himself walk in... but instead a noisy group of over a dozen men staggered through the doors, mostly in suits and ties, but their clothes rumpled as if they had already been to a party.

"A bachelor party," Alice groaned, recognizing the signs. "Just what we need."

"Look at the bright side," Oksana said, twirling back and forth on one of the barstools. "We'll be too busy when Tony comes. He might leave us alone."

Camila had just finished her dance. There was the usual applause, as well as hoots and yells from the partyers who had just arrived and hadn't had the chance to see anything of her performance -- but they didn't care, they hooted and yelled anyway on general principles. The newcomers took over three booths and nearby tables, and as the waitresses started taking their orders, some of Camila's regular patrons approached her for private dances. The raven-haired Latina led them off toward the private room through the "Employees Only" door.

"What are you all standing around for?" scolded Enrique, suddenly appearing in the midst of the other four girls as if he had teleported there. "One of you get up on stage! Andale!"

"I'll go," volunteered Jennifer. In her schoolgirl outfit, she quickly scurried up the steps onto the stage and moved to the curtains to wait for Jason to announce her. Alice and Rachel took the long way around through the dressing room to wait for their turns, leaving Oksana to mingle.

"We are happy to welcome tonight," the music man said, reading from a hastily scrawled note, "the bachelor party of Jentry Galligan. Jentry, this is your special day. To celebrate it, here's something special. I give you... oh wait. I'm sorry, that's Jerry Callahan. Anyway, Jerry, I give you... Foxy Jenn!"

The music started and the spotlight came on, but Jennifer was frozen in horror, her skin tingling, her heart pounding in her chest. Jerry Callahan? He was one of the computer techs at the National Archives! He had fixed a bug on her desk computer just that afternoon! What was he doing here? What if he recognized her?

Meanwhile, the electronic beat of "Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel" was playing, and the music seemed to jump-start Jennifer's nervous system, making her alluring young body leap forward and begin dancing almost on its own. The girl struggled to catch up, desperately going through the motions of her performance. Taking a few spins around the pole, she strutted up to the edge of the stage, boldly facing down the cheering partyers, unbuttoning her blouse and ripping the garment open while she strained to see if it was the same Jerry Callahan.

Of course it was! Her stomach quivered. Her blood seemed to turn to fire, the peaks of her nipples rubbing against the front of her lace bra. What was she going to do? Fortunately the wig would keep her identity safe from a distance. But if he paid for a private performance up close and personal, especially with the touching option, he would surely recognize her. At any rate, she couldn't afford to take the chance that he wouldn't. Jerry was the type to spread the story over the whole building!

Jenn performed a somewhat awkward somersault back to the pole, where she peeled off her blouse, leaving the necktie dangling loosely around her neck and between her luscious coconuts. She was hardly aware of hearing the music anymore, but she could feel its synthesized rhythm in her body, in her skin, in her very blood. Her arms and legs seemed to be moving on automatic as she unzipped her miniskirt and stepped out of it, latching her long, elegant legs around the upright chrome pole and spinning around it again. The music wound down as she undid her bra, showing off her lovely B-cups for the cheering men, and the spotlight snapped off.

To Jennifer's dismay, some members of the bachelor party, including Jerry himself, were talking to Enrique, waving credit cards and obviously arranging private dances with her. What was she going to do?


***


Chapter 5 –


Jennifer scooped up her clothes and, rather than walk down the stage steps directly to the floor as was usually the case, she dashed back through the curtains, where Rachel and Alice were waiting their turns on stage. "Alice!" she ordered. "Take off your clothes! Quick!"

"What?"

"That man out there, Jerry Callahan!" Jennifer blurted. "He... he works at my company! He'll recognize me if I do a private show for him! You've got to switch costumes with me and take my place!"

"Take your place?" the brunette said, as Rachel went on stage. "But the dances will be credited to Foxy Jenn..."

"I'll give you the money!" Jenn begged desperately. "I don't care about the money! Please!"

Alice unzipped the front of her sexy paramedic uniform and peeled it off. Jennifer helped her into the schoolgirl costume, finally plopping the red wig on her head. "Thank you, Alice. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Jennifer got dressed in the paramedic uniform, which was basically a shorts jumpsuit similar to the policewoman's except that it was blue rather than black and had paramedic patches on the sleeves. She left the front zipper down halfway to show off her cleavage, suddenly realizing that she had forgotten to put her bra on. She slipped into Alice's high heels and hurried to the dressing room, where she rummaged until she found blonde wig. There. All she had to do now was mingle with the partyers and try to steer clear of Jerry Callahan.

The girl peered out of the dressing room door and immediately saw Jerry himself walk through the swinging doors, arm in arm with Alice and two more guys from his party. Jennifer turned her face aside as the four of them walked past and went into one of the three private rooms. Whew! That had been close!

The door to one of the other rooms opened, and out walked Camila in that sexy flamenco dress along with her guest, apparently done with their private performance already. The guy was one of her regulars whom Jennifer had seen at the club almost every night, and he was still excited, his arm around the dark-haired Latina's slim waist as he nuzzled her beautiful swanlike neck. Camila was fingering a diamond bracelet on her wrist.

Jennifer quickly ducked back into the doorway so that they wouldn't know that she had seen them. It was supposed to be against the rules to accept gifts apart from the money on the pay schedules, but it was another of those rules that everyone seemed to ignore, at least as far as Camila was concerned. Jenn had seen her come out of the private room a couple of times with pieces of jewelry given to her by admirers. Come to think of it... by the SAME admirer!

As the couple reached the swinging doors, the man continued into the main room of the club, but Camila turned toward Enrique's office. With a furtive glance, she opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

Jennifer felt curious. Listening at the door for a few seconds and hearing nothing, the girl grasped the doorknob and gave it a gentle turn, easing the door open a crack. Camila was at Enrique's desk, pressing a hidden button. There was a soft click and the little stage in his office split into two halves right where the dancer's pole was, revealing a narrow staircase going down. The pretty Latina hurried over, the flirty skirt of her flamenco dress swishing as she disappeared down the stairs.

Jenn slipped inside the office, trying to be silent as she followed her. What she found downstairs was a square basement room. Glass-fronted display cabinets stood against two of the walls, containing a beautiful collection of jeweled bracelets, necklaces, even a small tiara. Crouching on the stair, Jennifer could see Camila admiring the bracelet on her wrist for a moment, then with obvious reluctance take it off and slip it into one of the cases, right next to a gorgeous sapphire.

Jennifer suppressed a gasp of surprise. That was surely the Moon Sapphire, which had been stolen a month ago in Memphis! She couldn't believe that Enrique's club was a front for jewel thieves!

Quickly she backed up the stairs again before Camila caught her watching. With her left hand, Jenn held onto the dancer's pole to steady herself as she backed onto the floor of the office... and just then she bumped into something, just as an impossibly strong male hand grabbed her throat like a vise!

"What have we here?" hissed a rough voice. "Some babe sticking her nose where it don't belong?" The man's other arm snaked around Jennifer's lissome torso, feeling the lean curves of her body.

Both the voice and the feel of his hands were familiar to Jennifer. He was Ironman Gilpin, a thug whose body was chemically-enhanced to give him three times the muscle mass of a normal man!

"Please... you're choking..." the girl whimpered. "I just came in here looking for Enrique..."

"What's going on, Tony?" Camila hissed, running up the stairs holding her skirt out of her way.

"Tony? You're the infamous Tony?" Jennifer blurted, unable to help herself.

"Yeah, what about it, toots?" the thug smirked. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

Jennifer didn't answer, squirming helplessly in his grasp as she thanked her lucky stars that she was wearing this blonde wig.

Gilpin continued to hold her by the throat in his irresistible grip, while his free hand tugged down the zipper on the front of her paramedic costume, his eyes enjoying the sight of the delightful valley of flesh that was exposed in between her pliant, braless coconuts. "I ain't seen you before," he said. "You must be new."

"Jennifer?" Camila gasped. "What are you doing in here?"

"Forget about that," Gilpin said. "You got something to tie her up with?"

The raven-haired Latina rummaged for a second in Enrique's desk and produced a pair of steel handcuffs. "These aren't props," she said. "They're real."

Together the two conspirators pushed Jennifer's back against the chrome dancer's pole, handcuffing her wrists above her head and behind the pole.

"You're pretty cute," Gilpin said, unzipping her paramedic costume all the way down and peeling back the front to bring Jennifer's two pliant little globes into full view. "Ooh baby, my blood pressure just went up. I might need some mouth-to-mouth. Ya know what I mean?"

A shiver ran down Jennifer's spine at the thought of being touched by him, but with her hands cuffed above her head, she was defenseless. Gilpin licked his lips, his big hands reaching out and cupping both of the girl's perky young breasts, his thumbs stroking her upright nipples. Jenn's cheeks felt hot as she struggled, her butt rubbing against the cool metal pole in a futile effort to pull away. Gilpin's right hand moved downward along her long, lean torso, over her flat belly, and down inside the front of her short jumpsuit. The fit was too tight, so he took hold of the fabric and ripped the lower half open so that it was just hanging off of her.

Jennifer's silken skin seemed to quiver from a rush of adrenalin as the thug thrust his hand inside the front of her black lace panties, groping at her moist cleft.

"There's no time for that," Camila argued, wringing her hands nervously. "We have to get rid of her."

"Don't panic, sweetheart," Gilpin said. "I've got it all figured out. See that bag? Get back down in the vault and clean it out."

Camile reluctantly picked up the black canvas bag he had left on the floor. "But... but won't the Dark Lady be angry?"

"The Dark Lady?" Gilpin smirked. "Is that what you call her? Of course she will, but I've got it figured out. Do as I tell you."

As the lovely Latina went back down the stairs with the bag, Gilpin put his face against Jennifer's delicious, unprotected breasts, his mouth engulfing her right nipple and sucking on it. The girl sucked in a slow breath as her pulse raced with arousal. At the same time, two thick fingers separated the moist petals of her flower, thrusting those fingers inside her hole and rubbing around her love bud. Jenn let out a moan of pleasure, arching her body sensually against the handcuffs holding her prisoner.

"I bet you're totally confused, ain't you?" Gilpin said.

"It's not... mmmm hard...," Jennifer panted, her heart throbbing as she struggled to ignore the erotic stimulation of his fingers rubbing her swollen clit, "to figure out. The Dark Lady financed the club as a safe house. A f-few times a week, she sends one of her henchmen to hire a private dance with Camila... ooooooh... and at the same time he smuggles her a s-stolen jewel. Which she puts in the vault. Am I close?"

"Not bad," the thug said generously, removing his sticky fingers from her dripping wet coosh and sniffing them. "The stiff who owns the club has no clue what's going on. If he does, he looks the other way. He doesn't want trouble. The thing is, the boss only steals jewels for the fun of it. She just likes to look at them every now and then. I figure that's a terrible waste."

Camila emerged from the vault carrying the bag now full of jewels. She pressed the button on the desk and the hidden vault closed.

"This is the best part," Gilpin said, picking up a cylindrical object he had set to one side, and placing it on the stage, carefully out of range of Jennifer's feet. "As we leave, we set this thermal bomb for three minutes. Blow the whole place up, and by the time the boss finds out the vault is empty, we're out of the country."

"Blow it up?" Camila gasped. "My friends are in there!"

"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Gilpin said, running out of patience. "If not, there's room on that pole for two of ya."

The gorgeous Latina gave Jennifer a heart-rending look. "I'm coming with you," she said reluctantly. "I'm sorry, Jennifer."

Gilpin set the timer and activated the bomb. "Be good, bimbo," he sneered as the red LED numbers went from 3:00 to 2:59, then 2:58, 2:57...

"HELP!" Jennifer yelled, struggling in the handcuffs. "SOMEONE HELP!"

"Yell your head off, babe," Gilpin laughed as he picked up the bag of jewels. "The way they play the music here, they'll never hear you." He and Camila walked out of the office and closed the door behind them.


***


Chapter 6 –


Jennifer watched the timer on the thermal bomb steadily counting down... 2:51... 2:50... 2:49...

Suddenly she grabbed the pole with both hands, nimbly twisting her lithe young body upward and wrapping her silken thighs around the cool metal shaft. Hanging upside down, she shifted her fingers to the cuffs themselves and, summoning strength from her bracelets of Ishtar, snapped the locks before dropping gracefully on her feet again. She whisked the blonde wig off and tossed it aside.

In a flash of light, the remains of her clothing vanished, replaced instantly by her Fuchsia Fox costume -- purplish pink ankle boots, briefs, elbow length gloves, and a tight little halter top with her fox head chest emblem. The superheroine knelt quickly and switched off the bomb. Then she slipped out into the hallway.

Ironman Gilpin and Camila had turned left at the swinging doors, making for the rear exit of the club. But they hadn't managed to reach it before running into Alice and Rachel, plus Don the bouncer, emerging from the private rooms with half a dozen randy guys from the bachelor party, all of whom tended to jam up the narrow hallway.

"Camila, where have you been?" Don asked, catching sight of the Latina. "Enrique's been going nuts. Have you seen Jennifer?" Then everybody froze as another person made her entrance.

"That's far enough, Gilpin!" said the Fuchsia Fox, stepping around the corner and planting her spectacular frame just in front of the swinging doors.

The thug turned to face her, letting the bag drop to the floor. "What are you doing here?"

"I just happened to be flying past and I heard someone call for help," the stunning superlady said smugly. "I've already rescued the girl and stopped the bomb you planted in the office. Want to try for three out of three?"

"You're not going to be so cheeky when I'm done with you," Gilpin hissed. The thug charged, his big fist swinging. The Fox neatly ducked under the roundhouse punch, returning a jab to his tough, muscular abs. His backhand caught her in the side of her head and momentarily stunned her, as his left arm scooped the lissome heroine up by her sylph-like waist and slammed her against the wall. At the same time, his ham-like hand latched onto her slim throat, pinning the delectable girl there with her legs flailing.

"Anything else you want to say?" the thug hissed, his free hand fondling her gorgeous tits through the front of her fuchsia halter top.

Alice, Rachel and Camila, along with the men could only stand and stare helplessly as the Fox struggled in the grasp of the much bigger man.

Suddenly up came the young heroine's silken knee right into her attacker's breadbasket. Her gloved hands grabbed his wrists, muscles flexing, twisting and forcing him back. Her beautiful head darted upward, butting him in the jaw. As Gilpin staggered backward, seeing stars, the Fox spun like a dancer, her alluring leg smacking him in the chest like a battering ram and throwing him against the opposite wall, leaving a Gilpin-shaped dent. Taking hold of both the scruff of his neck and the seat of his pants, she picked him up and tossed him through the swinging doors like a sack of dirty laundry. The spectators in the hall cheered.

"That bag contains stolen property," the Fox told them. "Keep an eye on it. And the girl in the flamenco dress is an accomplice. Don't let her get away." Then she spun on her heel and burst through the swinging doors into the main room of the club.

Gilpin had landed on a table and flattened it. He lay there groggily, not in any shape to keep fighting. Oksana was on stage, about to start another performance, but the club patrons were standing around and staring at a person who could only be the Dark Lady, dressed in a trench coat and a fedora hat, looking down at the semi-conscious Gilpin.

"Well, well, Fox!" she said. "Is there anyplace that a girl won't run into you?"

"Do I know you?" the superheroine asked, frowning.

"Oh yes!" the woman said with a musical laugh. "You certainly do!" She tossed aside her hat, letting her cornsilk blonde tresses cascade around her creamy bare shoulders as her coat dropped to the floor. Underneath the coat, her attractive young body was dressed in black leather boots, fishnet tights, and a black leather steampunk bustier. Her hands were covered by wrist length gloves, her face half hidden by a mask with cat's ears. Alley Cat!

"I've been keeping under your radar the past few months, darling," Alley Cat said, "stealing trinkets up and down the East coast. And this is the thanks I get? I liked this club."

"Tell it to the judge, Alley Cat," the Fox said, warily watching the villainess' hands. She didn't have her electro-whip with her this time, probably because it would have made an unsightly bulge under her trench coat. But that didn't mean she was defenseless.

"I think instead I'll take it out of your hide," the blonde said, as her gloved hands came out from behind her holding two black batons linked together end to end by about a six-inch cable. The nunchaku whipped across at lightning speed and nearly hit the Fox in the face.

The heroine darted her head back, spinning around with a backwards kick which Alley Cat ducked, slipped under the Fox's outstretched thigh and aimed a slash with her nunchaku at her tempting tush. ZAP!!! A high voltage jolt of energy leaped out of the weapon, jangling the spunky young brunette's nerves and causing her heavenly body to collapse to the floor.

"Didn't expect that, did you?" Alley Cat smirked, spinning the nunchaku expertly. She cocked her head to the sultry beat of "Ballroom Blitz", which had begun playing from the club speakers. "Let's rock and roll!" the villainess said, dashing forward to strike again. The Fox rolled out of reach, her forearm rising to deflect the next attack as she sprang to her feet. Alley Cat nimbly twisted away from her, rolling across a table which the occupants hurriedly abandoned, then did a tumbling dive onto the stage, landing on her feet.

Oksana hurriedly jumped off the other side as the Fox leaped onto the stage in pursuit of Alley Cat. The music was still pounding out its seductive beat, and as the heroine and the villainess confronted one another with the pole in between them, it would have been easy to assume that this was just another performance. The men in the club began to cheer them on.

The Fox darted around the left hand side of the pole, only to meet the flailing nunchaku and quickly reverse direction. Alley Cat was grinning, enjoying herself as she got into the rhythm of the music, doing figure eights with her weapon to either side of the pole which the Fox parried with her forearm or boot. Finally Jennifer grabbed the pole like an expert and spun, her silken legs thrusting past the blonde's guard and catching her with a kick in the waist. They both dropped to the stage in a tangle of feminine bodies.

"You're good at this, Fox," Alley Cat panted, as the heroine got on top of her, holding her wrists pinned. "I've always wondered what your secret identity was. Don't tell me you're an exotic dancer in your off hours?"

The quip distracted Jennifer long enough for the villainess to wrench one hand free and swing the nunchaku against the side of her head. The energy surge made her see stars, giving Alley Cat the chance to wriggle out from under her. Desperately the Fox reached out and grabbed the front of the blonde villainess' bustier, yanking it toward her and allowing her sweet C-cups to pop out the top of the garment in all their glory.

"Sorry, darling," Alley Cat smirked. "You'll have to pay if you want to see more of me." Suddenly her lithe young body twisted, her legs twining around her opponent's flawless chest and squeezing. The Fox gasped as the breath was forced out of her lungs.

The music was throbbing, the patrons of the club hooting with excitement. The heroine slowly pushed Alley Cat's legs upward, her body sliding gracefully downward out of her constricting grip. She felt the satiny smoothness of fishnet glide over her two supple coconuts, pushing the fabric of her halter top up with it as the villainess pulled clear and rolled off the edge of the stage.

The Fox scrambled to her feet, tugging her halter top back down, but that gave Alley Cat the chance to grab Camila, who had come into the main room along with the others. The villainess whipped out a noose of black synthetic leather from her belt and looped it around the beautiful young Latina's throat. Instantly it cinched itself painfully tight.

"This choke collar will strangle her within seconds, Fox!" Alley Cat warned, pausing to catch her breath. "As for you, my darling," she whispered to Camila, "I trusted you. This is what I do to people who betray me."

Abruptly she pushed the girl aside, making a dash for the club exit, shoving her way through the gawking patrons who were unwilling to try and stop her. The Fox didn't hesitate. She knelt at Camila's side, her fingers desperately seizing the rapidly tightening strip of synthe-leather and struggling to unwind it before it choked the girl to death.

"Don't... save me..." the girl whimpered. "I don't... deserve..."

"Shhhh, just lie quiet," the Fox said, pulling the torture device free. "Everything is alright now."

The patrons of the club burst into applause as if the Fox had just finished a performance. Alley Cat was so adept at disappearing, there was no point in chasing after her. At least she had recovered the stolen jewels and caught Gilpin. That was not bad for one night.


***


Chapter 7 –


Martin and Oscar returned home the following Monday. Jennifer was on hand at Andrews Air Force Base to pick them up in Martin's Subaru. With Oscar there, it never occurred to Jenn to mention the surprise that she had for her husband, and even afterwards as they had dinner and celebrated his return, she somehow found the discipline not to say anything. She only told him not to make any plans for Tuesday night, and he assumed that she had a romantic dinner in mind.

It wasn't until Tuesday afternoon that he had any inkling, in the form of a call from Jennifer telling him of a surprise she had for him, asking him to meet her at a specific address she named in Alexandria, and urging him to be there at six o'clock on the dot -- no earlier and no later.

"What is it?" he asked suspiciously, but Jenn only said impishly, "You'll see."

Martin had completely forgotten about the challenge he had made to her nearly five weeks earlier. As he walked into the club, still in uniform, he was surprised to find that it wasn't a restaurant as he had been expecting, but more like a dance club. It was filling up fast, too. He automatically assumed that he had gotten the address wrong, but before he could turn around to leave again, one of the bouncers walked up to him. His nametag read "Steve".

"Is your name Fletcher? Martin Fletcher?"

"Yeah," Martin said, warily.

"Yo, Carl!" said Steve, snapping his fingers toward the bartender, who instantly drew a tall, cold glass of beer from the tap and placed it on the bar on a coaster. "Follow me, sir," the bouncer said, picking up the drink and taking it to a table near the stage which hadn't been claimed yet. "Here you go, sir. Enjoy the show."

"I didn't order this," Martin protested.

"Your wife ordered it for you."

"My wife? Why?"

"Because you're going to need it," Steve said. Smiling, he gave Martin a little salute and walked away. Martin sat down at the table because he couldn't think of anything else to do.

The lights around the edge of the stage began to blink in sequence as the music man said, "Once again, it's six o'clock and time to lock up the doors on all the woes and frustrations of the working day. Time to adjourn business for today and schedule yourself some relaxation. Gentlemen and ladies, I give you... Foxy Jenn!"

Martin was sure that he had heard wrong. Sultry electronic music began to play, the black curtain behind the stage parted, and Jennifer emerged into the spotlight, accompanied by the raucous cheers and applause of the audience.

For her farewell performance, Jennifer had decided to wear the same outfit she had worn for her debut -- the "executive" costume, the gray pinstripe blazer and miniskirt, with black high heels and eyeglass frames.

The intro gave way to the energetic synthesized beat of "Never Can Say Goodbye", as the beautiful brunette pirouetted around the pole without touching it, strutting right up to the edge of the stage and cocking her hips, seeming to fix the entire audience with a seductively challenging look -- but singling out one man in particular for a teasing smile.

Martin's jaw dropped open in utter disbelief. His arm moved as if by itself, bringing the glass of beer to his lips as he guzzled about half of it down, the alcohol stinging his suddenly dry throat.

Jennifer spun around and did a running leap back toward the pole, catching the rigid chrome shaft in mid air and spinning around it three times. As she landed, her hands were working at the buttons of her jacket, flicking it open and revealing the sexy little red bra, showing off her pert B-cups. She shifted her attention to the tables nearer to the stage, all filled with lusting men. Her alluring hips began to sway as she slowly lost her jacket, letting it drop to the stage behind her.

For Martin, time seemed to stop as he watching his sexy wife perform, unzipping and removing her skirt and letting it slide down her silken legs without missing a single beat of the music. The song rose to a crescendo as she turned and grabbed the pole again, doing another series of spins and twirls. The crowd was hooting and cheering as she dismounted, unhooking her bra with a graceful gesture and revealing her perfect breasts to her adoring audience. The music crashed to a sudden stop, the spotlight flicking off as the men broke into applause.

The house lights came up again as Jennifer descended the steps to the floor of the club, pulling on her jacket over her nude torso, which was fairly glistening with perspiration. Holding her skirt and her bra clutched in her hands, she made her way hurriedly across the floor toward Martin's table. Her husband jumped up to meet her, awestruck at how incredible her performance had been.

Just before she got there, she was intercepted by three other men -- frat boys by the look of them -- one of them reaching out and respectfully grabbing her arm. "We want to buy a private dance!" he said, grinning. "Three private dances." The other guys were already laying out a string of twenty dollar bills on the table.

Jennifer gave them her best smile, but really all she could think of right now was Martin. "I'll be with you in a second, guys," she said. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."

As she turned away, her sylph-like body was swept up into a pair of strong arms as Martin kissed her. "That was incredible, Angel!" he gasped. "How... how long--?"

"Excuse me, I'm parched," Jenn interrupted, picking up his half empty beer glass and taking a big gulp of what was left. "Whew! How do you drink this stuff?"

"How long has this been going on?" Martin managed to say.

"Gosh, I arranged this weeks ago," the brunette said, sitting down at the table as the alcohol hit her stomach. "But then YOU had to go and get yourself sent out of town!"

"You've... you've been performing since I went on deployment? For three weeks?" her husband said, weakly dropping into the other chair.

"Well yeah," Jenn said. "I did what you suggested, I auditioned. Then I had to keep working if I wanted to keep this job long enough for you to see me." She waved at a waitress who was passing by. "Hey Trix, can we get another beer over here?"

Martin's head was still spinning from the unexpectedness of this entire situation. "So... I'm guessing your worries about you versus the Suit are behind you?"

"Are they ever!" Jenn said. "And I have you to thank for it, darling." She leaned across the table to tenderly kiss him, but then she noticed the frat boys -- they had followed her to her table, still ogling her. "I'm really sorry about this, Martin. I owe Alice a few private dances for... well, it's complicated..."

"Foxy Jenn," the manager of the club said, interrupting, "you have a half an hour booked up in room 2." Behind him the three frat boys were grinning.

"I'm coming right now, Enrique," Jennifer replied. "Oh, this is my husband, Martin."

Enrique gave him the eye. "She tells me that it was your idea for her to try exotic dancing," he said, extending his hand.

"I just made the suggestion," Martin said, shaking his hand.

"Oh wait, how did your hearing turn out?" Jennifer asked the club manager, as she slipped her miniskirt on underneath her jacket and zipped it up.

"The judge believed me," Enrique said, "when I told him that I had no idea that my major investor was a notorious cat burglar. So he let me off with a warning."

Trix arrived just then with a second beer, giving Jenn a wink as she took away the empty glass. That wink hinted at something unsaid -- that judges also visited gentlemen's clubs on occasion. Martin picked up the fresh beer and took a sip, giving his wife a bewildered look.

"I'll explain later," she said.

"Camila also got leniency," Enrique continued. "They gave her 30 days plus probation for accepting stolen property. As soon as she gets out, she'll be back here with us."

"You're going to forgive her for what she did, just like that?" Jenn said, incredulously.

"Hey, good dancers are hard to find," the manager said with a shrug. "In fact, if I can persuade you to come back, even part-time..."

"I'm afraid not," Jennifer said, giving Martin a hug. "After tonight, all my private dances are booked up, now and forever."

"Que sera sera," Enrique sighed. "But tonight," he said, giving her a playful slap on her butt, "guests are waiting, Foxy Jenn! Pronto!"


>>>>the end
By Centuion

[GeekyPornCritic]

This was an enjoyable read. I really like how Fox/Jennifer is true to herself. She doesn't play the pure or innocent role like Supergirl and Wonder Woman. Fox embraces herself and stay true to herself and Martin. I was surprised to see Alley Cat's return and how she was able to successfully combat Fox. I hope Fox gets back on the pole. If only the public knew Fox is open to unique sexual experiences and wasn't "sexually conservative".

[dodosony]

Wow, long time no sees Alley Cat since her last appearance in “Date with The Fox”(maybe I am wrong, let me know if so; ). It must mention that we got three new Fuchsia Fox adventure stories in one month, and such a frequency of update is far beyond my expectation. Excellent and brilliant work, bro.

For me, this new story “Cat Scratch Fever,” like “Turistas,” is the genre of superheroine story which shows the daily life of a superheroine. Or, it seems that Centurion more prefers to use the interaction between Fox/Jenn and Martin in this new story to explain the open and liberal relationship among them. Indeed, I am not sure if Martin is actually comfortable with the situation that Fox was forced or willing to have a sexual behavior or imagination on other male or female rather than her husband. Following read the story, I started to comprehend the special relationship between Martin and his wife, especially when Martin offered his wife a chance to do a real job as an exotic dancer to let his Jenn find her sexual attraction in plain Jennifer instead of her superpower ego — the one whose appearance was enhanced by Fox’s halter top. In my view, Martin is trying to persuade his wife an argument: either Jennifer or Fuchsia Fox is hot for men, not only from the perspective of Martin. As a result, Martin willing to let his wife to be an exotic dancer but does not need to fully nudity.

It should note that Jennifer has two egos, the plain one seems lack of self-confident on her appearance and blame the fault on men who were attracted by her enhanced appearance (e.g., Temptation Eyes). The other ego of Jennifer, or Fuchsia Fox, with the help of her bracelet of Ishtar, Jennifer is a confident girl with power. What Martin wants to let his wife know is, the attraction of Fuchsia Fox is partly from her halter top’s image enhance function, but a reasonably large number of the attraction is from Jenn’s confidence rather than merely appearance. When Jenn play as an exotic dancer in the club, she finds out plain Jennifer still able to turn men on. Also, in the club scenario, such as Chapter four, Centurion using few words "Jennifer’s whole world seemed to collapse” to not only describe Jenn’s disappoint on Martin’s delay by the deployment but also it reflects Martin’s value in Jenn’s mine. This is also the power that supports Fox to fight even in the danger situation — and it makes sense that when Fox’s emery seemed defeated Fox entirely but Jenn still has a chance to fight back — in the name of love (e.g., Fox Hunt and Rumble in Da Hood). For most couples and lovers, mutual trust through communication and behavior is the foundation of their relationships, it is glad to see both Jennifer and Martin not only fall in love with each other but also they trust and deeply depend on their partner in mind.

By the way, I think Centurion is also a master in the genre of the romantic novel if he like.


Dodo

[DrDominator9]

I've been catching up on my reading and so of course this nugget by Centurian and Flirty was on my short list...and I'm glad it was. You two both struck the perfect balance here of Jennifer's desire to please her husband, confront her fears and solve a crime, all without dropping a beat. It was as entertaining and accomplished as watching Jennifer doing her pole dances. A wonderful mixture of barely naughty and deliciously nice.

I'm always so pleased how well even the minor characters are drawn in your work, Centurian. Oksana in particular was delightful.

I do find it hard to believe one thing though: Camila got off much too easily. She was willing to walk out of that club with the bomb still armed and all those people in jeopardy of death. That's an accomplice to attempted murder. I think she got off way lighter than she should have, by far!!

That said, the story was a wonderful read and I enjoyed 96% of it. LOL.

[flirty_but_nice]

I've been catching up on my reading and so of course this nugget by Centurian and Flirty was on my short list...and I'm glad it was. You two both struck the perfect balance here of Jennifer's desire to please her husband, confront her fears and solve a crime, all without dropping a beat. It was as entertaining and accomplished as watching Jennifer doing her pole dances. A wonderful mixture of barely naughty and deliciously nice.

I'm always so pleased how well even the minor characters are drawn in your work, Centurian. Oksana in particular was delightful.

I do find it hard to believe one thing though: Camila got off much too easily. She was willing to walk out of that club with the bomb still armed and all those people in jeopardy of death. That's an accomplice to attempted murder. I think she got off way lighter than she should have, by far!!

That said, the story was a wonderful read and I enjoyed 96% of it. LOL.

Hey Dr. D., thanks for your wonderful feedback.

To your point about how easily Camila got off, I tend to agree with you. Same for Enrique, actually. Yet, at the time I didn't question Centurion on this, as he was having so much difficulty with this story to begin with, I didn't want to risk having him just say in frustration to just forget the whole story! lol Always a thin line to walk, in pushing Centurion to go to the naughty places I have lobbied for.