A mischievous smirk crosses Jasmine's face as her name is called for karaoke. She twists her body easily from the grasp of a gentleman holding her. Some coward who loves to hold onto her hip but allows her to move freely when she wishes to. Not like a man willing to make a scene. To hoop his claws into her belt loop and hold on like she was a prize bull.
Rolling her eyes as she moves through the crowd, she pulls two drinks on the rocks from a passing tray. She quickly downs one and feels the passion and warmth in her soul as the sweetest nectar of the gods drips down her throat. Placing the empty one on the table, she sups the next one and is thankful it's the same. In higher spirits, she twists her body up to the stage.
She loves the way the eyes follow the curves of her body. The scent of desire is in the air, and she feels the eyes of a monster somewhere in the crowd. They know she is spoken for, but it's about to change. She is going to light the world on fire. Unbuttoning her blouse, she pulls the sides apart, ripping and tearing the buttons as they fall from the side. Jumping to the stage, her dark red blouse hangs loosely at the side, revealing her black lace sheer bra beneath.
"This one is dedicated to my ex!" Jasmine says as she begins to sing the Pussycat Dolls song React. Sometimes, she wanted the fight, angry that Marc refused to fight back to put her in her place violently if he had to.
She sings a song about a man who simply loves her to death, while sometimes she just wants to fight. Her body twists and turns as she allows the blouse to slide down her shoulders. Anywhere else, she'd be thrown out, but here, she could act wet, wild, and frisky.
She loves the message she sends with her body, talking about the curse of how well she has been treated. Knowing it's an IT place to be, she will send a message that will strike Marc's heart, telling him to fuck off in the middle of a club she bought for his daughter. She sings the lyrics, "Why don't you mess me 'round like you're supposed to? You're turning me cruel because I just want you to react. Looking for a little confrontation..."
She needs a reaction; she needs him to find her down and break her spirit. Jasmine desperately wants a man who doesn't care for her. She needs to feel the hunger, that desire, the need to conquer. She needs him to come through that door to pull her to the manager's office by the arm. To beat her into submission with the thickness of his belt, to show she belongs to him. But no, he is far too much of a Boy Scout. In his protective Daddy side, he is a weak protective cunt that can't snap out of it and put a girl in her place.
Twisting her hips, she dances as she pulls off the blouse, feeling the cool air of the bar across her breasts. Her ripples are quickly erect as she dances, loving the eyes, the attention, and the building desire. Going into the double feature of her next song from Zara Larson, she sings how they "Can't Tame Her." Her voice resonates, telling the feeble boys the truth that no one "Can't tame her magic energy. She's so magnetic and pulls you in every time. But she doesn't care; she will do what she wants... Because she never needed any reason."
Fuck, Marc! Jasmine thinks as she drinks the last of the silky smooth scotch, leaving the glass on her blouse. She leaves the stage and heads to the bar for her next drink. Knowing Sue needs someone willing to fight for her, to fight her, to put her in her place, and to make sure she feels she can never be anything more. That gentleman who couldn't keep her at his table, wildly how she danced to the hips, doesn't lie is a dud.
As she slips through the crowd, Jasmine is pulled tightly to a man with a grey goatee and the deepest, Iniesta blue eyes she has ever seen. His hand finds her ass immediately, grasping her in her with an iron worker's grip. as she squeals breathlessly as the sound is drowned out by the sound of the bar and the ringer's rendition of Sex on Fire.
"You like taking things that aren't yours? Like those drinks you stole?" The man's raspy voice taunts her.
"Excuse me?" Jasmine demands but instantly yelps on his grip of her wrist. Her eyes dart around the room as instant red flags are raised in her mind.
"You running a tab?" His voice was dark, foreboding, commanding.
"What?" Jasmine questions as she feels him tease her and slam her back against a pillar, knocking the wind out of her. Struggling for her breath, her eyes dart desperately to get Cindy's attention, but her back is to the bar, shielded from view.
"Those drinks are $250 a shot. You like taking things that aren't yours?"
"No one tells me no..." Jasmine answers. A palm strikes her face hard, blurring her vision with instant tears. She barely sees the shock of a girl beside her as the random woman moves towards the bar.
"That doesn't mean you should do whatever you want bitch... you owe me." The man growls viciously in her ear.
"I... I can settle at the bar..." Jasmine stammers.
"That doesn't excuse your actions... you don't get to take without asking..." He asks, pinching the nerve in her hand as quiet tears stream down her face. His free hand found the front of her shorts, gripping her labia through her jean shorts and thing, pressing the demon tightly into her. "You are just a black bitch that needs to be broken."
Jasmine feels her body flush with excitement as she hears a familiar high-pitched whistle. Shit, Cindy has called the bouncers... red flags but not... his palm strikes her face again as she tastes blood for the first time in years.
"You aren't paying attention; you are worthless where. You are leaking like it is rutting season, and you desperately need to be bred."
"I..."
"Did I say you could speak?" The man demands harshly.
Jasmine shakes her head, afraid to say the wrong thing. Desperately wanting to be free of the man but strangely attracted to his intoxicating power. She shifts her body weight as she feels his fingers press into her harder.
"This cunt is owned until you pay back what is owed..." He growls in her ear.
"I am not..." her voice goes quiet as his fingers swiftly go beneath her shorts, and she feels his bare skin upon hers. His thumbnail pressed into her, rendering her silent as she looked without thought. Warning bells scream in the distance but only feel like echoes outside her understanding.
"What does a bitch call a man who can vet her to do whatever he wants?" His voice touches a place deep inside her as she struggles to speak but knows the word.
"Master," Jasmine answers as he is pulled from her, his nail digging into her as he almost refuses to let her cunt go as they pull him off her. She hears the Master grunting in pain as one of the guards sees where his hand is.
"Who said I couldn't tame you? " the man asks generously as he is pulled away towards the bar.
Everything in her body wants her to stop them. To let the man go, he makes her feel alive. But simultaneously, she is scared, not only of him but for him. If she goes to defend him and gets a scene in better lighting, he wouldn't make it out of the family-run bar. The last thing she needs right now is to have the one man who can handle her. She is tossed out of a bar before she ever learns his name.