Spanky's was a fine establishment despite their measly one-star on socials. Their human resources department had more important things to worry about than employing seventeen-year-old girls. Their philosophy was that after enough time it would work itself out, just like it did in my case. I'd made enough money by the time I turned eighteen that I bought myself a car. It was a shit car, but on most days the engine turned over and I could get where I needed to go.

Aaliyah sipped her cocktail and made a sour face. "Dinner, steak and rum!" she shouted into my ear.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked.

She glared at the speaker on the ceiling, waited for a lull in the music, then tried again, "Didn't think you'd come!"

I rubbed at my arm in a vain attempt to keep the goosebumps at bay. "Yeah, I didn't think so either."

"So what changed your mind, you miss me?"

I scoffed at the pretty black girl in her cute, blue lingerie. "Close. It stopped raining."

"You should get a new car already, or at least some new tires. Hey, how's the license coming?"

"One thing at a time," I replied. "Hey, don't look at me like that, it's on my to-do list."

Two bearded men with big hats, and even bigger boots, stepped into the dingy, smoke-filled room. They looked around and then made their way over to the bar.

"Do you think they have faces somewhere underneath all that fur?" Aaliyah asked.

"Why don't you go ask them?"

Aaliyah stirred. The skin on her back peeled away from the sticky, vinyl cushion of our booth. I grabbed her arm.

"Aaliyah! No!"

She froze.

"They just don't look like they've taken their flea medicine."

Aaliyah slouched back onto the sofa and curled up next to me. I couldn't help but rub her puffy cheeks. She looked like a cute squirrel. Without any warning, the sound system came to life.

I covered my friend's ears, depriving her of the finest classical music she'd ever heard. It featured composers like Li'l Scruffy, P-Rat, and Death Storm of Death. That was Moanica's cue to get on stage. She loved death metal at eight in the evening on a Wednesday.

I didn't have a problem with the tattooed woman in her late thirties, or her abundance of piercings. It was her commitment to killing me that kept me at a distance. She eyed me from the stage. I couldn't tell if she was mouthing threats or if she was just singing along with DSOD's latest fugue. I found out though as soon as her set was over. "I will fucking murder you, bitch" was not one of Death Storm's jingles.

She collected a torn one-dollar bill, then scooped up some change that had probably fallen out of someone's pocket from the night before. Aaliyah put her head in my lap.

"Just ignore her," she said. "She's harmless."

"Wasn't she in prison though?"

"Yeah, but that was barely attempted murder. Attempted. See? She's not even very good at it, so you'll be fine," Aaliyah reasoned.

I gently stroked her cheek. "You're so soft. I wish I was black."

"Stephanie?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, yeah... You probably hear that all the time, huh? Ah, forget it. You wouldn't understand what it's like to be white. Life is hard."

She pinched my thigh.

I continued through the pain, "People open doors for me, they don't check my ID—" I sighed "—the police don't bother me even though I don't know how to drive. I mean, where is the DMV anyway?"

"You're a fucking terrible driver. I'm never doing that again—ever."

"Shh!"

We froze suddenly. We strained our ears. That was dangerous though since the music could resume its assault at any moment. Moanica slid in between the bears at the bar.

The drunk woman was laughing hysterically before they even opened their mouths and had a chance to say anything. They sat back in their seats and continued their conversation behind her.

The small one, the one that would be lucky if he only registered 250 lbs on the scale, glared at the woman disapprovingly. "Like I was saying," he began, "it was the weirdest fucking thing I'd ever heard. You've got to interview those kids."

"Were they on drugs?" the bigger one asked.

"No! It's the damnedest thing, these guys passed the drug test."

"Drugs?" Moanica asked.

The big one ignored her. "And they're claiming what? Some punk attacked them and beat all three of them up?"

Tiny laughed. He leaned over to his friend, knocking the stripper out of his way. "This is the best part. They described the perp as 'attractive', 'blonde', and 'petite'."

The bigger one slapped his partner. He roared with laughter. "Jesus! Who did they put on this? Please tell me it was Cheng?"

A simple nod of the head sent them both off the deep end.

Aaliyah's hair tickled my stomach when she laughed. "Oh my God, I love white people. You guys are so weird."

I ran my hand down her body and settled on her hip. Even that was soft. I pinched the tiny, blue thong wrapped around her waist. "Is that new?"

"Yeah. Perv much?"

My hand squeezed her butt and she jumped. She didn't say anything though. It would have been impossible anyway. Another dancer had taken the stage. So I just casually rubbed her skin as we waited for the loud torture to end.

Then, two elves walked into the bar.

They were beautiful. Both of them were young with long, blonde hair. They looked as if they were lost and couldn't find their way back home to the Gray Havens. So they sought out the aid of the innkeeper and cautiously made their way over to the bar.

An overweight woman welcomed them with an expressionless stare. The two blondes explained their plight at length. The bartender waited patiently, then after absolutely zero deliberation, pointed to the back of the club. The elves bowed graciously.

The music was too loud to hear anything, but the commotion caught Aaliyah's attention—and the attention of the two officers. The new people fit the description of their suspect. Aaliyah and I leaned forward as the music abruptly ended.

The room fell silent. The dancer on the stage was the only one to speak. She raised her voice and flipped off the DJ. "I wasn't done yet! Fucking prick..."

But he had already exited his booth and scurried over to the bar so he could listen in. He knew this was the most exciting thing to happen at Spanky's since its founding. All eyes were on the cops.

The big one waved them over.

The male elf pointed at his chest. "Me?"

"Yes, you. Say... Did either of you beat up some football players the other day?"

They looked like they were my age, just with a lot more terror on their faces. When the police officer reached into his flannel shirt pocket and begrudgingly produced his badge, one of them blurted out, "Oh my God! No! We just got here—wait what? Attacked?"

"What's your name sweetheart?"

The other elf stepped forward. "She's Shannon and I'm Lance," he said.

"You're a boy? Jesus Christ..." the big one muttered.

"What is this all about?" the young man demanded.

"Well, someone matching your description was involved in an assault. Know anything about that?"

Lance shook his head. "I'm pretty sure you have the wrong guy. We don't even live here."

"Oh? Where do you live?"

"Bayside," he said proudly.

The gruff man nodded. "Ah, that makes sense."

"Fucking pricks," I mumbled.

The cop turned his head toward me. His beard looked like it was trying to smile. Then, he went back to the teenagers. "Now, I need you to be honest with me, OK? This is a very serious investigation."

"Anything you say, um, your honor?" the boy said.

The female elf was quick to agree. "Yes, of course, but what is this about?"

The older man shook his head. "Alright, you know it's a crime to lie to a police officer, right?" After more obedient nods, he continued, "Did either one of you go to Bluffwatch High last week and, uh, cast any magical spells on the football team?"

"Yeah, like a fireball or something like that?" the small detective added.

The two stunned blondes stared at the cops. They literally just stood there, mouths open, and eyes about to burst out of their heads.

After a few seconds, the big one waved his arm in front of their faces. "It's a yes or no question, guys. Are you on drugs?" He turned to his partner. "See? I told you it was a drug thing. It's always a drug thing."

"What!" Lance shrieked. "No way! We don't do drugs."

"And we don't know any spells either!" Shannon confirmed.

The DJ bit his lip. But it didn't do any good. His laughter infected the bartender who smirked. That was the most emotion I'd seen out of her in six months. It almost looked like it physically pained her to maintain that foreign, unfamiliar state of her face. But, she did it. She displayed her excitement all the way until the officers dismissed them and Shannon disappeared into the owner's office in the far back corner. The door closed behind her.

The frightened boy waited patiently by the bar for a while, then, he bravely stepped out of the small alcove. He walked into the main part of the club and searched for a place to hide his head. He swiveled around. But with the abundance of customers, that is, all three of them, there was no place for him to blend in. I waved him over.

His large saucer eyes stared in surprise. He pointed at his chest.

"Classic Lance," Aaliyah said.

"Yes, you behind the bike sheds. Stand still, laddie!" I shouted.

"What?"

"Yeah, what?" Aaliyah asked.

"Oh for fuck's sake, you guys are hopeless," I snapped. "Yes, you—come here. Who else do you think I'm talking to?"

Lance scanned the room and blushed. But the pretty boy started moving his feet.

"Very good, one after the other. Just like that. You're very good at walking."

After he'd been summoned, he stood obediently in front of us. And like a good servant, he avoided eye contact and refrained from speaking.

Aaliyah wrinkled her brow, then turned to him. "I'll take my spirits now. Can you arrange them in the antechamber opposite my quarters?"

"The ante-what?" he asked.

She pointed to the dressing room and said, "Quarters." Her arm moved to the VIP booth. "Antechamber." Finally, the bar. "Get it?"

I raised a hand to my friend. "Silence! Please forgive my chambermaid, she assumed you spoke English."

Lance gulped.

"So, where are you from, Lance?" Aaliyah asked.

"America," he said in his soft voice.

Another wave of my hand. "Very well, Lance of America, would you like to accompany us? That means you can have a seat. You're fucking making me nervous standing there."

He hurriedly stepped back and plopped onto the seat on the other side of our booth.

"No, no, no." I tapped the spot between myself and Aaliyah.

His teeth started chattering.

"We're warm. And we're not mean. Come on over here, tell us all about your travels."

Lance stood and once again approached. He carefully took his position between us. I pinched his shorts.

"How do you like Spanky's?"

"It's, uh, real nice," he said. "I just didn't think it would be so cold."

We scooted in closer.

He noticed our underwear. "H-h-how are you guys not freezing?"

My pragmatic friend answered, "We cuddle."

"Lots of cuddling," I said.

He set his hands on his knees and rubbed.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked.

"Oh, uh, I'm just helping my cousin get a job, you know, I'm protecting her."

"Protecting her, eh? Well, you're doing a very good job."

"Thanks. She was just worried to come on her own, you know?"

I put my head on his shoulder. "If she doesn't get stabbed during her first six months, she'll be fine."

"More like a year," Aaliyah added. "Moanica still wants to kill you."

The boy swallowed.

"Does she have any work experience?" I asked him.

"Oh, uh, yeah. This summer we worked for the Junior College in Bayside. Well, for their baseball program."

I reached out and brushed some of the pretty, blonde hair from his face. "Oh yeah? How'd that go?"

His already quiet voice dropped even lower. "Not good. We got fired," he admitted.

"That's not fair, beautiful people shouldn't get fired. It's not right."

Aaliyah squeezed his tummy through his bright, yellow t-shirt. "It was probably all her fault, wasn't it?"

Lance nodded, then quickly shook his head. "Well, I mean, she is lazy. But, well, there were some other things that happened..."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but, well, I shouldn't say anything. She'll get mad."

My hand found the side of his face. The texture of his skin was on par with Aaliyah's. "Lance, can I ask you something?"

"I guess?"

"Alright, this is very serious, OK? You can't lie to me. I'm a stripper."

Aaliyah nodded in agreement.

I narrowed my eyes and asked, "When you got fired, was it because you were a warlock?"

His upper body sprang from the vinyl seat and he coughed. Aaliyah and I pressed him right back down into the cushion and waited.

"What is going on here?" he finally said. "Is this some kind of joke? Why do people keep asking that?"

"How tall are you?" I asked.

"Five-ten."

I looked at Aaliyah. "Does this fit the description of our perp?"

She shook her head. "Nah, too tall. The other one was petite-er. So, we're safe."

"Phew, that's the last thing I need right now—sorcery."

Aaliyah nodded. "And on a Wednesday? I'm just not ready."

"It wasn't me! I swear! I don't do that stuff!" the poor boy insisted.

The DJ's voice shot rapid fire through the speakers. It was the top-of-the-hour announcement for specials. The girls were supposed to line up and interact with the clientele for discount prices.

Lance looked at us. "What did he say?"

"It's your lucky day, VIP dances are half off. So for $300, you can have both me and Aaliyah for half an hour."

"Oh, uh, no thanks. I'm just waiting for Shannon. I'm not, you know, a customer."

I put my hand on his leg. "Are you sure? It's worth it."

Aaliyah broke in. "And your cousin is going to be a while."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Oh, uh, the interview is thorough, that's all. They're probably, you know, doing a background check."

Relief washed over his face. "Oh, cool. I had a good feeling about this place. But yeah, I don't need a dance though. Thanks anyway."

My hand slid upward. His shorts bunched up in my fist. "Don't you think we're cute?"

He turned his head to each of us, inspecting our underwear. Even the firm mounds on Aaliyah's chest, and her slender curves, weren't enough to convince him. He hesitated.

Aaliyah slipped her hand under his shirt. "You're cute."

He grunted.

"Have you ever had two girls before?"

Lance shook his head.

"I don't believe it. A cute boy like you?"

Aaliyah washed her hand over his abdomen. "You have such a cute body. Aw, what's wrong? Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No, well kind of—not really," he said.

"Then why don't you go back there with me and my friend? You'll love it, I promise."

My fingers slid up his thigh. His shorts rose higher. Lance held his breath.

"Come on," I pouted. "If you want to protect your cousin, you have to know how it all works, right?"

"I... I guess."

"So you'll need to know what happens in the VIP room. She's going to be back there with a lot of dangerous men."

He coughed. "She is?"

We nodded.

But as concerned as he was for his cousin, I noticed the back of his hand nudging my thigh. "Like, you know, what does happen back there?" he asked.

I smiled up at him and lowered my voice. "Back there? They're going to touch her. Their hands are going to be all over her tight, little body. Most men are polite though, they'll start by gently touching her soft legs. Just, gentle, innocent caresses."

He swallowed. The back of his hand started rubbing my leg.

"That's what they'll do at first anyway. They'll just slowly rub their hands along her thighs. But then they'll go higher. Higher," I said, finishing in a whisper.

"Like... Like this?" he asked.

I nodded, then slowly crossed my legs over his hand. Lance exhaled.

"Then," Aaliyah said, "they'll expect her to, you know, return the favor. What's your cousin's name again, sweetie?"

"S-S-Shannon."

"Well, Shannon is going to have to sit down in their lap. And you know what she's going to find?"

Lance shook his head.

"A big, hard, cock," Aaliyah whispered just as her hand dipped into his shorts.

He shuddered. His eyes searched around the room. He searched again and then one more time after that before he looked down at what was happening between his legs. Aaliyah's hand moved under his shorts. "She has to do that?" he asked.

Aaliyah nodded. "And she'll be naked too—completely naked. And since she's so pretty, they're going to want more and more of her sexy body. What are you going to do then, huh? When a man twice her age grabs her tight ass."

Lance's hand rumbled to life between my legs. It glided upward until my thong blocked its path and it had nowhere left to go. His other arm squirmed in behind Aaliyah. She flinched when he found her ass.

"What else is she going to do?" he asked.

"This is the best part. She's going to turn around and grind into his crotch. She's going to bend over like a whore and ride his cock and do everything she can to make him cum."

I sighed through my nose. The cute blonde boy was gently nudging my thighs apart.

Aaliyah continued, "And you know what? Sometimes when their hands are on her ass, and she's not looking, they'll put a finger inside of her. She won't even see it coming, it'll just—"

She fell silent. Her eyes fluttered.

Lance pushed harder and my legs opened up. He pulled my panties to the side, slid his finger along my slit, then jammed it inside. My thighs closed around him. I started panting.

It was harder to speak now, but I continued, "It's going to change her. Your cousin is going to start to like getting naked for complete strangers. She's going to love the way their hands feel when they touch her. And you know what else?"

"What?" Lance moaned.

"She's going to love making them cum. She's going to get addicted to the mess it makes on her hand. And sometimes, when she's riding them, it's going to accidentally slip inside. Your pretty cousin is going to get fucked."

Lance's grip tightened. I could feel his finger wiggling around inside me. The soft flesh around my pelvis hurt.

Aaliyah's head bobbed silently in the air, then, fell into his lap. She breathed soft moans onto Lance's erection that tented up in the front of his shorts. Her hand never stopped moving.

"You like your cousin, don't you?" I asked.

"What? I mean, yeah I guess."

"No, you really like her."

"Well, we're close and all that."

I grunted. "Right now she's—oh God that feels good—she's back there with our boss. She's lying on her back. She's seriously back there right now with her legs open and he's... He's... Fuck!"

Aaliyah pulled his penis from his shorts. It was long and skinny. It was even as beautiful as him. Her lips hovered just above it. She took a breath, her jaw came apart, and it slipped into her mouth. He gasped.

"Have you ever had a black girl suck your dick before?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Does that feel good? Do you like having her pretty little lips around it?"

His hand clamped down around my cunt. He grimaced. "Just go slow or I'll cum! Slow!"

"No! Not yet!"

"Easy, go easy!"

Aaliyah lifted her head. She set her chin down on the tip of his cock and blinked her big, dark eyes.

He held his breath.

My friend smiled. "Jeez, I'm not even doing anything."

"He's a sensitive boy, isn't he?" I said.

"Yeah. And that's too bad," Aaliyah pouted. She turned to him with her sad, pleading eyes and said, "Because I wanted you to fuck us."

Lance exhaled and cum erupted straight into her chin.

"Aw," Aaliyah complained. "That's too bad. I was going to bend over for you and let you tear my shit up."

"Fuck! I'm sorry—oh God, I'm sorry!" he shrieked.

The thick, white stream cascaded down her neck. She turned and pressed it into her face like a person washing up with a hose. Her adorable, perky face became a saturated, sticky mess and she loved every second of it. She held him by the base of his shaft and smeared it into her skin. She rubbed her lips over it. She pressed it into her cheek and savored the strong aroma that would have knocked a normal girl off her feet.

Lance's shaft was impressive. It stood up tall in his lap, towering above his shorts. The tanned skin glistened with cum and saliva. Aaliyah looked around the room, rolled onto her stomach to get more comfortable, then put it back in her mouth. Lance closed his eyes.

He left his fingers embedded between her cheeks as she slurped up what little remained of his cum. It was fun watching her small mouth struggle with it even as it began to lose its rigidity. She still couldn't manage the whole thing.

Lance withdrew his fingers. He wiped the juice on his hand into Aaliyah's firm cheeks. Her dark, brown skin was soon spoiled with her own wetness. Just as the pretty, black girl was able to consume the entirety of his shrinking shaft. She felt a hand on the top of her head. Lance guided her up.

Aaliyah brought her bubbly cheeks around and stared at him expectantly.

He took a breath. Then, another.

"Everything OK?" Aaliyah asked.

"No—yeah, everything's fine. I just, need to rest for a bit," Lance explained.

"Are we too much for you?"

He adjusted his pants, carefully putting everything back where it needed to be. "I just think maybe I need to check on Shannon."

"Oh, that's too bad."

When he attempted to extricate himself from the sofa, and Aaliyah didn't budge, Lance cocked his head. "Is that OK, you know, if I go?"

"Yeah, but that's three hundred dollars though."

"Three hundred!" he shouted, then lowered his voice. "Three hundred? But we didn't go back to the, you know, VIP place. I thought this was free."

I pointed to the camera mounted on the wall, then, shook my head.

"Wait, you guys record all of that? That's illegal!" he protested.

I shrugged. "Maybe. But the owner doesn't like people who don't pay—your cousin won't like it either."

"But I don't have that much money!"

Just then, Shannon emerged from the back room. Her hair was disheveled and her dress was wrinkled. She stormed over to us.

Aaliyah smiled. "So, did you get the job?"

"Yes!" she said proudly.

"Oh, welcome to the team!"

Shannon eyed the three of us suspiciously.

"We were just keeping him company," Aaliyah explained. "Oh, and he may need to borrow some money."

She glared at her cousin. There was nothing friendly about her posture as she rummaged through her purse. Shannon huffed, spilled lipstick onto the floor, then finally withdrew a wad of cash. "Here! Take it! God!" She turned to Lance. "I can't take you anywhere! You're unbelievable, you know that?"

"I'm sorry, it's just—"

Shannon stomped her foot. "Now!"

He said no more.

When they were gone, Aaliyah pointed to the camera. "You know, I always wondered about that thing. Does it even work?"

I shook my head. I'd been there when the owner "installed" it. He drove nails right through the cheap, five-dollar piece of plastic that he'd gotten from a Korean discount store. It might have even been a squeaky dog toy. I handed the money to Aaliyah.