CHAPTER THREE

Andrej was sitting in his chair, a gun to his head, his heart racing, and his lips muttering fainthearted prayers, which he knew wouldn't save him because Don Fabrizio wasn't there that night to fool around.

"How long has it been since you got the product delivered to you, Andrej?"

"Two… two. Two months, Don.."

"Mm.. Two months. And, have you sold off the coke?"

"Y..yes. Yes, Don.."

"Oh? So, why have I not gotten my money, Andrej?"

"Don, please. I.."

"..Answer the fucking question, Andrej, why have I not gotten my money?"

".. I. The club ran into some financial problems.."

Don Fabrizio forcefully struck Andrej's head with the gun repeatedly before resuming his interrogation.

"Lies! I know you don't own the place, and, if you have any problems, you always call Aleksandr, who's the fuckin owner, to fix shit. Now, I ask again. Why have I not gotten my money?"

Now nearly unconscious and bleeding, Andrej knew that one more lie could get him killed. He had to spill.

"I… I tried to triple the money. I staked it on a bet… I lost. I swear, I'll make it back.."

"..You, shortcut-seeking, truce-breaking amateur!!"

Don Fabrizio didn't need to hear anymore. He was so angry he picked Andrej up and out of his seat, flinging him to a corner of the room. 

"I'm sorry! I swear I'll make it back!" Andrej tried to beg off, knowing what was coming.

The Don gave his guard the same look he'd given him at the door, and what would follow was a merciless beatdown.

Meanwhile, in another part of the building, Coochie was still putting up her show and intriguing her audience.

She had just finished a slow, inciting twerk which had brought groans of pleasure from her audience, and had now turned again to face them, nearing the climax of her display.

She stroked her flat belly gently, as she neared her pierced novel. The tattoos on her light brown skin were very visible in the light, and her long, dark hair partly shielded her big boobs from the view of her audience.

Inevitably, she arrived at her crotch area. She was in a G-String, and all this time, her crotch and vaginal area had stayed concealed. She traced her waistline with her right index finger for a while, whilst still keeping her movements in sync with the music. Then, she slid the finger underneath the underwear and stuck it inside her.

This brought about reactions from all over the hall. Many groaned with pleasure, while others yelled things like "Priceless pussy!" and "I wish that was my dick!" 

Then, she slowly withdrew the finger from inside her, raised it to her face, and then stuck it in her mouth. 

The men went wild, screaming with desire and whoredom.

Knowing they were now like putty in her hands, to mold, twist and bend as she so pleased, Coochie decided to use this power and proceed to the last and most sensual part of the show.

Sliding her finger into her pussy and withdrawing it again, she went on all fours now, putting forth the finger she had just slid into herself, flashing a deceptive smile, and then, for the first time since she began the night's performance, she spoke:

"Hey, boys. Which one of you wants a taste of Coochie?"

Her voice was not amplified, but since the room had been dead silent, her words had been heard loudly and clearly in every corner of the room.

"I want a taste, Coochie", "Me, too, Coochie" and other such lustful phrases they all murmured simultaneously.

"So…", she said softly, " What're you waiting for? Come to mummy and get some.."

Instantly, with one accord, ALL the men got up and out of their seats, walking dreamily towards the platform, as though they were zombies. They were coming slowly towards her, dicks in hand, drooling and salivating from the insanely high level of pleasure she'd been giving them from the start. 

And, when they got to where she was, Coochie began to stick the finger she'd put in her pussy into their mouths; one by one. They licked it with such obedience that she wondered if they were under a sort of spell. Now that they were so close, she could see their faces. These were grown-ass men who had enough money to spare to watch a live striptease show at an expensive spot like Tequila, men with thriving businesses and families, men with brains and brawn; and they'd been brought to nothing just for a taste of pussy.

Back in Andrej's office, while Don Fabrizio's guard was putting a memorable beating on Andrej, Don's eyes strayed to the CCTV cameras, and he was amazed when he saw, in one of them, a stripper who seemed to have hypnotized her audience and had them all striving for her to stick a finger in their mouths. He was stunned beyond words. No woman had made him stop in his tracks as this one had just done. She was dead gorgeous.

So, he waved an arm towards his guard, signaling for him to stop the beating. 

"Who is that woman?" Don Fabrizio, pointing at the screen, asked Andrej, whose face was now a bloody mess, and his white shirt stained with blood. Speaking was painful, because of the strikes Don Fabrizio's man had delivered to his jaw and mouth, but, he would rather have that pain than the pain of more blows.

"She. She's our best stripper. Coochie.."

Don Fabrizio looked again at the screen, enthralled. He was a man with weird sexual inclinations, and, as he looked at her, he loved everything he saw: her large breasts, her skin color, that perfect ass. She was the fulfillment of all his secret sexual desires. And, he wanted her.

"I want her, Andrej.." He turned and said to Andrej, voicing his thoughts, and then, with a serious look, he added, "Give her to me. And, I forgive your debt.."

Andrej looked again at Don Fabrizio. Was the man insane?