He was hired far quicker than he'd expected and he could safely say, he truly hated it here. The dancers were silent for the most part, keeping to themselves. They were either hard eyed and cold or beaten down and hopeless. None of them made him feel welcome. Some of them were even openly hostile with him because they thought he would take the lion's share of their profits.
No amount of assurance by him could convince them otherwise. Then there was the boss, himself. Feral shuddered at the memory of those slimy paws caressing his body every opportunity he could whenever the dark tom was performing.
Slasher made no secret of how much he desired Feral and that made the dark tom sick. He wanted nothing more than to avoid the mobster whenever he could but that would defeat the reason he was here so, much to his disgust and fear, he had to pretend he enjoyed Slasher's unwanted attentions.
He'd been at the club a month and had heard some fur-raising things which he passed to Chance or Jake, whichever one was on duty watching him but none of it was about the murder. The money was good but he had a hard time shutting his eyes and ears to the torture Slasher inflicted on his dancers. It just made him sick.
"Must you do that?" He asked, unable to hold back one evening as a young, pretty dancer was being beaten with a belt for failing to make enough money that night.
Slasher eyed the dark tom a moment then released the she-kat and said coldly, "get out of my sight and do better tomorrow or else."
The dancer staggered to her feet and got out of the boss' office as fast as she could.
Slasher spared the departing dancer no further thought as he reached a paw out and pulled Uly close to him and nuzzled the tom's side, inhaling his scent.
"Aw, is my handsome honey upset? I have to keep my dancers in line or they will think they can walk all over me. It's just business," he purred, caressing the tom's abs then moving his paw down to give the genitals a swift squeeze.
Feral was hard put not to slam the sleezeball's head against the nearest wall as he gasped at the obscene touch. "I just don't like the sight of blood," he murmured, stroking the tom's hair gently even though he was more inclined to pulling it out by the roots.
"That's why I like you, babe, you're sensitive as well as one hell of a dancer. Keep doing what you're doing and there might be a reward in it for you," Slasher leered as he gave the dark tom a hard swat on the butt to send him on his way.
That look made Feral feel slimy as he gave the nasty tom a coy look before slipping out of the office. He quickly made for the small closet he'd discovered quite by accident that allowed him to hear what was going on in the boss' office. It's odd acoustics were just right for picking up sound from the nearby offices.
He'd seen two of Slasher's criminal associates head for Slasher's door and thought he might hear something useful. Fortunately, he had an hour and a half before he was expected on stage. He pulled out a special recorder Chance had gotten and pressed its listening ear against the wall to pick up anything that was said.