4
"Would you like a lapdance?"
The blond young man looked at Beth with wide blue eyes. "Sure!"
"It costs ten pounds, just so you know."
He pulled out his wallet, opened it, and showed it to her. "Is this enough?"
Damn. There had to be over a hundred pounds in there. How could he not know how much money was in his own wallet? Whatever. She smiled, and climbed onto the drunk young man's lap. She shook her breasts, clad only in a skimpy turquoise halter top, in his face. He reached for her breast, but she pushed his hand away. "Sorry," she said, smiling. "You're not allowed to touch me."
"Aw, come on," he whined.
She gave a regretful sigh she hoped sounded convincing. "It's against the rules. This place will get shut down for prostitution if we go too far. We can still have lots of fun though," she said, smiling.
"I want to see your tits," he said.
"I can give you a nude lapdance in a private room," she said. "For twenty pounds." Well, as private as it could be with security cameras. John hopefully had time to glance at the monitors periodically, while also patrolling the stage area and bar.
She looked for him. He was busy explaining the mandatory tipping area to someone who seemed to find the concept fundamentally unjust, and was arguing over the definition of the word "tipping." John might be busy for a while. "I'm sorry sir," she overheard him say. "But that's a rule of the house. Yes, it's true that not all gentlemen's clubs have this rule, but we find that it enables us to attract and retain the most beautiful and talented dancers, as you can see. Feel free to go to a club with a different policy if you like. Shall I show you to the door?" The poor sod probably had no idea his arm was about to be painfully twisted behind his back if he didn't comply.
"You have private rooms?" Beth's customer was saying. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Lead the way."
She did. She could tell he was eyeing her hotpants as she walked, so she added an extra sway to her hips. "Have a seat," she said, once she'd pulled the curtain closed. Then she took off her clothes, skimpy as they were, and straddled his lap, facing him. She shook her now-naked tits in his face. He liked that.
"Tell me all the things we're not allowed to do," he said, smiling.
"Well," she said. "We're not allowed to have actual sex. That would be prostitution, which is illegal."
"Tell me in more detail," he said.
"Well," she said. "You're not allowed to do this." She stroked her breasts with her hands, then grabbed them roughly. He seemed to prefer the roughness, judging by his expression. "You're not allowed to kiss these perky nipples." Of course they were perky, it was chilly in here. "You're not allowed to grab my hips and move me, although I am allowed to do this." She ground her pelvis down on his, feeling his erection straining through his trousers. He groaned. "I'm not allowed to let that hard cock out and grab hold of it and stroke it, or lick that delicious drop of pre-cum off the tip, or gently take it in my lips, then suck it in deeper, deeper, feeling that hard shaft sliding down my throat."
She put her mouth close to his ear, whispering, which gave her at least a little distance from his alcohol-scented breath. His cologne would have been nice if there had been less of it. She ground her hips into his as she spoke. "You're not allowed to cum deep in my throat, and I'm not allowed to swallow jet after jet of that delicious, thick, creamy cum."
He groaned again. "Hot damn, girl. Tell me more."
She was pretty sure she was older than he was, but he could call her girl instead of woman if he wanted. "You're not allowed to slide your fingers into my tight, wet pussy. You're not allowed to lick my pussy, suck on my clit, drink my juices—"
"Ew," he interrupted. "Do blokes actually do that?"
"Um. Yes." And women too.
"Why? That sounds gross."
"Never mind. I won't mention it again."
"Good."
"Anyway. You're not allowed to slam me against the wall and fuck me hard, with my legs wrapped around you as you thrust your cock into my tight pussy over and over, until you finally cum inside me."
"Oh yes, girl. Keep talking." He bucked his hips up against hers.
Should she even say this, or would this innocent boy be grossed out? "You're not allowed to flip me over and fuck my tight arse," she said. She turned around and smiled at his surprised face over her shoulder. She ground her arse against his trouser-trapped cock.
"You can do that to girls?" he asked. "I bought that was just for doing to boys. When you want to humiliate them, you know, show them they're inferior, fucking them like they're girls."
It was hard to keep smiling. "Girls have arses too," she managed. She looked straight ahead as she ground her arse against him. She tossed her hair and moaned as if she was into it. Twenty pounds for a three-minute song, and it was almost over, unless he wanted another twenty-pound lapdance after this one.
"You do have a great arse," he said. "Like a boy my father gave me once. But turn back around, I want to see your tits again."
Like... What? She put her smile back on before she turned around.
"What else aren't we allowed to do?"
"I'm afraid the lapdance is over," she said, trying to sound regretful. "They last for one three-minute song. Unless you'd like another one?"
"Can you think of anything else forbidden?"
She thought. She could probably come up with more, but this guy was giving her the creeps. "I'm getting kind of tired of talking," she apologized.
"That's fine," he said agreeably. "I think that to-do list should be enough to keep us busy." He drew a wand from his sleeve in a gesture familiar to her. Was this young man about to make tea? Wash dishes? Instead, he pointed it at her. "Imperio."
Beth was suddenly very happy not to think of anything at all. This nice young man would do all her thinking for her.
It was just great, and pleasantly surprising, that the way he was touching her didn't hurt at all. Then she watched in delight as her hands fumbled with the fastenings of his trousers...
It was even better when the curtain was abruptly pushed aside and another man charged into the room. "Expelliarmus," said John. He caught the young man's wand out of the air as it flew from his hand.
Beth suddenly didn't feel happy at all. She scrambled off the newly wandless wizard and rushed to put her clothes back on, wishing they covered more.
"Lupin?" he complained, shocked. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Stopping assholes like you from abusing the dancers. Put your pants back on. No one wants to see that. I don't want to even see your face. I guess it was too much for me to hope for, that I'd never see you again after I graduated. Didn't I catch you vandalizing library books a few years ago? And now here you are again, tormenting a muggle with, what was that, a confundus charm?"
"What if it was? You're not a prefect anymore. What do you think you're going to do, take house points? Give me detention?"
"You're in considerably more trouble than that. Muggle-baiting is illegal."
"Aw come on, I was going to obliviate her afterwards, it's not like anyone would know—"
"You were planning to obliviate someone while you're drunk? Damn, I should snap your wand. That's delicate work, and you're not even sober enough to apparate."
"I'm not really drunk. I'll show you. Just give me my wand back and I'll apparate home."
"I wouldn't really mind you splinching yourself, but I don't want to have to clean up any body parts you leave behind." He seemed to take pity on him. "I'll give you your wand back after I side-along apparate you home, and you promise to never try this again."
"You don't know where I live well enough to apparate there. We wouldn't allow your kind around."
"My kind?" he asked mildly. "You mean decent law-abiding people?"
"You're a halfblood, aren't you? You sure put on airs at school, teacher's pet, prefect, but you're still just a halfblood. That's why you're working here in the mud, couldn't get a job in the real world, could you? It's bad enough your family doesn't have any money so you need a job in the first place, but working for muggles? Pathetic."
"I was thinking of just apparating you to your general neighborhood and letting you walk the rest of the way home, but you're right, I'm sure I've never been anywhere near the Rowle estate, and of course it wouldn't do to make someone of your status walk. New plan. I'll take you straight to an all-night apothecary so you can buy yourself a sober-up potion, and you can apparate yourself home from there. I'll take you to one in Diagon Alley, all right? Oh, and remember to pay your dancer before you go. Go on."
The young man took out his wallet and looked inside. "Do you understand muggle money? All this paper."
"The numbers are printed right on it. Can't you read?"
"But there's all this other stuff printed on it too, it's confusing."
"She probably wouldn't object if you gave her all of that."
"But this is half my week's allowance! Minus what I spent on drinks."
"Is losing this money a hardship for you? I'm sorry, I didn't realize your family was poor. I could start a collection for you, maybe gather some dented canned goods and secondhand clothes to get you through the winter. 'Tis the season of giving, after all."
"You'd know all about charity, wouldn't you? Son of a muggle." The young man grudgingly took out his money, then threw it on the floor at his own feet. "I want to see you grovel for it, muggle," he said to Beth.
John put one arm around the young man's back, and grasped him firmly by the arm with his other hand. "You can pick that up later," he said to Beth. Then he and the young man vanished with a loud crack, timed to coincide with a loud drumbeat of the music.
Beth knelt to pick up the money. Half his week's allowance? Damn. She stashed it in her locker in the dressing room, then went out to work the floor again. She took a deep breath and put on a smile. "Would you like a lap dance?"
Well, this was better than some Christmas Eves she'd had. At least she wasn't with her family.
—-
"Beth?" Tina looked annoyed.
"Yes?"
"Where's John?"
"He got rid of a problem customer for me," said Beth. "He was amazing."
"But where is he? We're busy tonight."
"He took him outside. He should be back soon."
Thank goodness John hurried in at that moment.
"Where were you?" asked Tina suspiciously.
"I removed a problem customer," he explained. "And then had to explain to him in some detail why his behavior was unacceptable."
"You could have explained in here."
"I didn't want to disturb the other customers."
Tina shrugged. "They could stand to hear a repeat of the rules too."
"Nor did I want to get blood on your floor. Anyway, I'm sorry I took so long, but afterwards I walked him to the bus stop and gave him bus fare to get home."
"What, he didn't even have bus fare? Bastard."
"There's no money left in his wallet," said Beth. "John convinced him that he owed me a generous tip. Everything he had, a hundred and eighty pounds!"
Tina nodded approvingly and walked away to announce the next stage performer.
"What really happened?" Beth asked.
"Let's discuss this in private." They went to a private room, after he'd looked over the whole area, including the monitors. "I apparated him straight to our law enforcement office and explained the situation. I gave them a copy of my memory of the incident, so they should have all the information they need. I told them you don't need obliviation. They didn't argue about that, the Obliviators have been quite overworked recently."
"What will happen to him?"
"Nothing, really. He's a rich pureblood. His family will apply some pressure and he'll be home tonight. If this case actually goes to trial, they'll pay me not to testify."
"You wouldn't take their money!"
He shrugged. "If I refuse, they'll put that money towards an assassin. Your flat or this club might get damaged. It would be better for everyone if I just take the money. Anyway, justice will be served, in a way. His parents will be angry he got caught. They might punish him, reduce his allowance or something. If they're anything like Sirius's parents..." He gulped. "I don't know. Those old families have some very creative punishments. He won't be back here, if only because there are plenty of other strip clubs he could haunt."
"What would you have done if this had happened to one of the other dancers?"
"It has. This club is close to our main shopping district. A lot of wizards wander in. Most are harmless of course. The others... I put the dancer to sleep first so she doesn't see the confrontation. I figure that's better than letting her see it and obliviating her afterwards. When I wake her, I tell her I saw the customer slip her a date rape drug."
"Thank you doesn't seem adequate."
"I'm just doing my job," he said. "Are you all right, Beth? Really? I couldn't see everything on the security camera, but I could tell you weren't acting like yourself. A confundus charm can take a while to wear off."
"No, I'm fine. It, it stopped as soon as you took his wand.
"Really? I want to check." She flinched when he drew his wand and pointed it at her. "Sorry," he said. "I'm just doing a scan. Hm. I'm not detecting any residual magic. Finite Incantatem. Notice anything different?"
She shook her head.
"I'm sure you could use a shoulder to cry on," he said. "It can help to talk over a bad experience with a friend so it doesn't eat away at you, playing itself over and over in your mind. I bet some of the other dancers would be willing to listen. I'd better get back to work." He abruptly left, leaving her alone in the tiny room.
