Author's note: I've been working on this one for a couple years now, finally finished it...
Special thanks to ironbloodaika for the premise and pitching a lot of the jokes and plot points! Sorry it took me so long to write it lol.
Wicked Game
What a wicked thing to do
Danny stared at the invitation he had just pulled out of its envelope. So elegant, so ornate. Naturally. The Mansons were paying for this wedding.
The honor of your presence is requested—
His presence would be an honor, huh?
—at the marriage of Samantha Manson—
Seeing her name printed in such beautiful font caused such curious pain.
—and Lucien Jackson—
Lucien. Of course she'd marry a guy named Lucien.
He studied the photo accompanying the invitation. Sam and Lucien were both dressed in black, embracing as they gazed into each other's eyes with small smiles. Her dark hair fell to just above her hips, lips stained a wintry peach color. She had stopped wearing goth makeup when she entered college, but she would probably never completely outgrow her gloomy style, especially not now with this Lucien guy who, judging from his appearance, was probably also a goth in his high school years.
Danny set the photo aside and leaned over a kitchen counter on his forearms, looking over the cabinets and sink and floor. He wouldn't be here much longer. Now that he had finally graduated and secured a well-paying job, he could afford to rent his own place. No more loud and messy roommates, no more being dependent on his parents for anything.
He should've been happy. He knew that.
But this wedding invitation only reminded him how lonely he was.
His phone vibrated. He glanced at the caller ID before answering. His sister. "Hey, Jazz."
"Hey, Danny! Heard about the new job at the observatory. Congratulations!"
Danny shrugged and turned so he could lean back against the counter. "It's no big deal, really. Dad used to know someone there."
"Still, that's exciting! You're excited, aren't you?"
"Yeah! Yeah, I am." Danny inserted as much enthusiasm as he could. "It'll be a nice change."
"Well, hey, are you free tonight? I'd really like to catch up with you over dinner or something."
Danny smiled. It had been a while since he and Jazz had talked in person, especially since she had gotten married.
His smile faded. Married. Jazz was married, Sam was getting married, and he was...
"I can't tonight," he said. "Tucker insisted on taking me out somewhere to celebrate my new job."
"Oh, fun! Where're you two going?"
"I have no idea. He wants it to be a surprise. But he sounds a little too excited, so I'm wary."
Jazz laughed. "I would be, too."
"But what about tomorrow night?"
"Um… Yeah, I think I can do tomorrow." A shuffling of papers on her end. "Sure, let's plan for it. Is seven okay?"
"Seven's great. You down for The Red?"
"Yeah! Haven't been there in ages."
"Great. I'll make a reservation."
Disconnection. Another dial to the restaurant. Danny wrote down the details on a small note: Dinner at seven. The Red. He stuffed the note into his pocket along with a large number of bills that Tucker instructed him to bring.
He was actually pretty sure he knew where Tucker wanted to take him. But no way was he about to tell Jazz that.
And just a couple hours later, his suspicion was confirmed.
Beneath a sky blotted with light pollution and surrounded by buzzing neon signs, Danny closed the passenger door of Tucker's sleek Audi and studied the building they had pulled up to. "So this is how you want to ring in the start of my new career, huh?"
"Of course!" Tucker clapped a strong hand on Danny's back. "The newest astrophysicist at Gardner Peak Observatory deserves only the best."
"Okay, but remember when I said I never wanted to go to a strip club again?"
"Dude, don't even try to tell me you don't love seeing a bunch of almost naked girls dancing right in front of you."
Danny blushed. "It's—it's not that, it's the money I always end up spending. I'm not a big-time mobile app developer like you. I don't just have money to blow."
"What's the point of this new job? You're gonna have tons of money to blow now. You've gotta start living the big life with me!" Tucker pushed him forward. "You and me, bud. We're finally moving up."
Danny sputtered but did not fight too hard. He could never say no to his bro no matter how hard he tried.
"Speaking of money, you brought enough cash, right?" asked Tucker.
"Yeah, like three hundred."
"All right. We're gonna have an awesome night."
They passed the bouncers (who promptly confiscated Danny's Thermos because "no outside food or drinks, kid") and entered a kaleidoscope of purple and blue, the smell of smoke and booze and sweat and perfume mingling in its strangely sweet intoxication. After purchasing drinks and claiming a table near the stage, Danny's heels repeatedly tapped against the floor with vibrating nervousness.
But as usual, Tucker adjusted to the environment immediately and was already flirting with the cocktail waitresses and slipping bills into bras. Danny looked down at the small bills in his shaking hand and wondered how Tucker could get up the nerve to do this without being at least buzzed first. He lifted his drink to his lips and poured in a generous gulp.
"Come on, Danny, drink up." Tucker tilted Danny's glass up more, rushing alcohol causing him to choke and puff out his cheeks. "Let's get Fun Danny out here tonight."
Danny swallowed and coughed a couple times. "I'm fun," he rasped through a scorched throat.
Tucker took a swig from his own drink, his eyebrows raised in amusement.
Another song, another drink, and all of the girls were starting to look even sexier as they twirled and pranced around the stage. Their moves were exciting, enrapturing. Danny relaxed in his chair, slumping slightly as he watched the girls show off their bodies.
"All right, Danny, look sharp." Tucker shook his shoulder. "Thumper's walking by."
"Thumper, like the rabbit from 'Bambi'? Don't you mean hopping?"
"Save your dumb witty banter for the girls, dude."
Rack bouncing and hips swaying, Thumper sauntered in the direction of their table collecting tips and compliments. But the closer she walked, the tighter Danny's nerves locked.
Eye contact. She saw him. Now he had to.
But where to put it, where to put it…
He pulled at the fabric of her fishnet stocking and placed a bill up against her outer thigh. She looked down at the band snapping back into place, then at him.
"Well, thank you, darling," she said in a lilting drawl. "Much appreciated."
Danny smiled but could not keep her gaze for long. Maybe he wasn't drunk enough just yet after all. He turned and picked up his drink, downed more of his liquid courage.
Tucker held up a couple bills and slipped them into the front waistband of Thumper's panties. She immediately turned to him.
"And thank you, handsome." A wink, a dazzling smile, and then she was off to mingle with other patrons.
Tucker smirked at Danny, rapping his knuckles a couple times on the table. "In her stocking, huh?"
Danny stared down into his drink. "It… There were no other bills there. It looked lonely. I don't know."
"All right, all right," said Tucker. "At least you were able to tip her at all. That means you're on your way to loosening up. We'll get you there, buddy."
Danny nodded and took another swig, hiccuping as a thin layer of froth collected on his upper lip.
"But you are enjoying yourself so far, right?" asked Tucker.
Danny set down his drink. "Yeah." He thought about the wedding invitation from Sam. "It's certainly been taking my mind off some things."
Tucker looked as if about to reply but halted with a short gasp, his eyes widening. "Whoa, check it out!"
He frantically pointed at the stage. Danny looked to see a tall, willowy dancer hook a pale leg around the gleaming pole, bright red stiletto clinking against metal, flowing dress swishing around her thighs and exposing enticing peeks every time she twirled. But perhaps most distinctive was her long blonde hair, teased and sprayed in a voluminous mass of sex appeal.
"That can't be…" began Danny.
"It is!" Tucker guffawed. "Holy shit, it's Star Rainsdon!"
Danny swallowed back the saliva that suddenly pooled in his mouth. It had been years since he had last seen his former classmate, even longer since he had actually spoken or interacted with her. But she looked just as he remembered her looking. Better, even.
But seeing her here reminded him of another girl who had once been special to him, the girl she used to orbit like a satellite. And no one even knew just what he and that girl had together at one point. And probably, no one ever would.
Another drink. Down it all. He had to forget all of these painful memories as soon as possible.
"God, I can't wait until she takes that off," moaned Tucker, panting and ogling like Danny hadn't seen him do since high school.
Round and round she spun and spiraled, polishing every inch of the pole with her body. Her dress at last fell off or blew off or however it suddenly stopped covering her. Danny couldn't quite remember how she had done away with it, her movements too masterful and graceful to separate in his mind. She continued her erotic dance in shiny gold lingerie, low-riding thong and push-up bralette. The smoothest curves, the loveliest clefts.
A figure passed in front of Danny's field of vision. He blinked and realized it was Tucker moving to the stage. Star was hanging upside-down from the pole using only her legs, her eyes closed and glinting with gold eyeshadow, her hands vanished into her shroud of blonde hair. Tucker held up a bill between two fingers and stuck it right in her bra. Star opened her eyes and stared at him with dazed recognition. Tucker turned around and headed back to the table while Star resumed her routine.
"She earned that," Tucker said as he sat down.
The dance climaxed, the song ended. Star stepped off the stage amidst a roar of cheers. She walked toward their table, collecting a flurry of tips along the way.
"Well, if it isn't my old high school boyfriend, Tucker Foley." Star placed her hands on her hips. She studied Tucker first, then Danny. "And you brought Fenton along, huh?" Star drew her lips together in an amused pout. "You boys sure are a lot cuter than I remember you being in high school."
Tucker brandished a large wad of cash and carefully picked out a ten. He stuffed it into her G-string before replacing the rest of the bills in his jacket.
"Especially you, Tucker." Star propped her forearms on their table with a bend at her hips, her breasts hanging low, her stiletto heels pushing her ass high in the air.
"Can I buy you a drink, Star?" asked Tucker, holding his chin and leaning his face in closer to hers.
The two continued their flirty chatting. Danny sipped at his drink in silence as he watched them. Except he felt like a bit of a creeper just watching them. But what else was he supposed to do? He didn't want to get in the way of whatever Tucker and Star had going on.
At least one of them deserved to not feel so lonely tonight.
He could see Thumper on the other side of the club. She was definitely his pick here. He loved brunettes. All of his major past crushes had been brunettes. Valerie—
No, don't think about her now—
And Paulina—
Definitely don't think about her either—
Sam—
She was the worst of all right now!
He had to get these girls off his mind, replace them with a new girl. Maybe he should offer to buy Thumper a drink.
He began to stand when something knocked him back into his chair. A deep chill, a tingly shiver down his spine. He exhaled and watched his breath mist over.
What a surprise. Ghosts just couldn't resist ruining his night. And here he was, tipsy and without a Thermos. Just great.
He glanced around, scanned the surroundings, focused on the shadows, searched for the telltale glow of a specter. His breath continued to fog in warning.
No good. He was gonna have to get up and walk around.
The lights changed color. A haunting melody dripping with sticky eroticism coiled in his ear, jolted his heart with pounding bass. His ghostly breath wrapped around his whole body with winding ties, binding him to his chair.
The next dancer stepped onto the stage. Fully developed womanly curves hugged by onyx and emerald fabric, fiery hair glowing and rising into sharp points high above her head.
His breath was so cold and completely stolen. He couldn't speak or shout, could only stare.
Spectra.
She grabbed the pole and pulled herself up high before slowly walking herself down, defying gravity in a way that only a ghost could. She stared out at all the men surrounding her, surveying her clientele, her newest batch of minds to manipulate and poison.
Her toxic eyes settled on Danny. He was pinned, trapped, unable to move or look away.
Her glittering lips curled into a grin. She kicked up her legs, legs that stretched for eons across the stage and up the pole. Round and round, up and down, her eyes never leaving his.
Why couldn't he look away?
Did he even want to?
Looking right at him, smiling right at him, she slipped out of her top, leaving behind a strappy bra and the most mature cleavage he had seen.
And then she was turned around, bent over.
She looked back at him, just him, no one else. She was dancing for only him.
Her tight pants came off in a flourish, exposing a tiny thong barely covering anything before she twirled around to face him again. Hands posed provocatively, fingers roaming seductively over her skin, over her breasts and past her hips and between her thighs.
The music was gone. Stopped. All he could hear was pumping blood in his ears, blood that wasn't getting to his head and pooling far below instead.
Her legs worked the whole stage, together, apart, crossed, split so far it didn't seem humanly possible. And perhaps it wasn't humanly possible. No woman from this world could move like this, hold herself up like this, twist and contort her body like this.
And no man could possibly look away. Especially when she wouldn't stop looking at him.
A lick of her lips, a slow blink, a rubdown of her body.
Danny shivered as the music stopped. He held a hand to his shuddering chest.
Spectra was gone. Danny scanned the club, but she was not walking around collecting tips.
He looked over at Tucker, who was chatting it up with Star. She was perched in his lap with her legs crossed, arm looped around his shoulders, cocktail in her hand.
Had Tucker even noticed Spectra?
Obviously not. If he had, he wouldn't be drooling over Star right now.
Danny stood and walked away from the table. Tucker didn't notice, didn't say anything, didn't even look up as he left, probably too drunk and absorbed with the hot vamp warming his thighs.
Danny toured the entire club, a little unsteady on his feet but otherwise able to walk just fine. Up and down, back and forth, pretending he was just trying to get a good view of the stage or tip a particular dancer, slipping a one here and there into various bra straps when a bouncer seemed to be scrutinizing him a little too hard.
Thumper gave him the most beautiful smile, so sweet and honeyed. But he was on a mission. After he took care of Spectra, maybe he could buy Thumper a drink. Maybe she'd even indulge him by sitting on his lap for a little bit.
Spectra was clearly not here, though. For whatever reason, she was not sashaying between tables garnering tips and compliments like all of the other dancers.
Was she trying to avoid him?
Probably. No ghost ever wanted to be sent back to the Ghost Zone. And he didn't blame them. The Ghost Zone sucked. He had no idea why anyone would ever want to live there. He himself had still yet to create his own lair even though it was his prerogative as a ghost.
The other ghosts would probably just trash it any time he was gone, though.
Which would be always because again, who would willingly live in that shithole?
Truthfully, he sometimes felt bad forcing them to return to the Ghost Zone. If they didn't insist on causing so much harm and damage in the human world, he probably would let them stay. But as it happened, the majority of them only hurt people.
And Spectra most of all thrived on the pain and misery of people.
She absolutely could not stay. He had to find her.
He headed into the restroom, which was occupied by a couple drunken men swaying on their feet. He closed himself up in an empty stall and proceeded to turn invisible without anyone noticing. No need to transform just yet, especially not when he himself was just a little unsteady. He could handle the effects of alcohol better as a human than as a ghost.
He intangibly slipped through a wall to the back part of the club where all of the private rooms were situated. Music, moans, low laughter. Each door housed its own unique sound behind it as he walked by. Could Spectra be in one of these rooms?
He shivered again, an icicle piercing straight through his center. He allowed himself to turn visible just to be sure.
Frosted breath. There was definitely a ghost nearby.
He circled, made a full three-sixty, stared hard at everything.
"Hey there, handsome," cooed a silky voice.
Danny jumped and spun, jumped again as Spectra came in close to him. She was fully dressed now, but her sensuous curves could still be seen beneath her tight ensemble.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, Danny?" Spectra looked him up and down. "And my, how you've grown. You're no longer that creepy little boy. Now you're a creepy man ogling nude girls at strip clubs."
"What are you doing here, Spectra?" Danny fought off a blush as he regained power in his stance and spoke authoritatively.
"I work here." Spectra rested her arms on his shoulders. "You're actually taller than me now. Isn't that adorable?" Her gaze traveled to the waistband of his pants. "I wonder how the rest of you has grown."
Danny pushed her away from him. "What are you really doing here, Spectra? Probably lots of miserable lives for you to suck dry here, right?"
"You're so right, sweetie." Spectra licked her lips. "And I always especially love sucking yours."
Damn it. He actually set her up for that one. Danny scowled at her, his eyes flashing with warning light.
Spectra chuckled and approached him again, grabbing his chin in her hand. "You're the one who's not supposed to be back here. You are an awfully naughty boy for using your powers to look for girls to spy on."
Danny sputtered and tried to piece together a retort, an explanation.
"Oh, I know. You were just looking for me, right, Danny boy?" Spectra stroked his chin with her nails. "Sneaking back here just to see more of me, aren'cha?" Spectra's lips drew close to his. "I saw the way you were staring at me during my number. You couldn't look away."
Her lips were blurring, too close to his face for his eyes to focus properly. But her cleavage, oh yes, that focused perfectly, a beautiful divide, clear and sharp.
"You want to see more of me, don't you?"
He was falling into her, into her mouth, closer, closer. Tipping over. His brain on alcohol could not hold him up much longer like this.
Spectra pushed his head back up and patted the side of his face. "A naughty boy like you needs to be punished." She grabbed his arm and jerked him down the hall with her. "And I think I'm just the one to punish you."
He tripped over his shoes as she pulled him along. Where was she taking him? Why was he letting her?
She had him transfixed again. Unable to look away. Unable to fight her off. Almost like he wanted her to take him.
It had been so long since any woman had taken him anywhere.
She pushed open a door into a private room lit with ambient red light and containing a sofa, table, and a few chairs. Still latched on his arm, she dragged her captive toward a chair and roughly pushed him into it. Her hands were now on his shoulders, pressing his back against the chair. He stared up at her, his mouth suddenly dry and his blood rushing in all directions.
"You don't want to leave, do you, Danny?" She squeezed his shoulders, brought one hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. "You want to stay right here with me, don't you?"
Her words were etching in his mind. Right, right, this was her hypnotic power—no, wait, that was Ember who could hypnotize people—but then why else was he feeling like he really definitely totally absolutely wanted to stay right here in this chair?
These expanded hips, those high-rising legs, that dip between her breasts.
"You deserve this, sweetie." Spectra's hand caressed his face, massaged and pinched his cheek. "Don't you think so? After everything you've done for this town. You deserve a reward."
She took a few steps back and posed for him, squeezing her breasts together, trailing her fingers down her sides and abdomen.
He stayed still, locked into the chair.
He wanted this. And she was so right. He deserved this.
A provocative beat played over a set of speakers somewhere above them, seemingly all around as it pounded his ears in rhythm with her movements. Her body slinked and swayed and sprang, every thread of her clothes stretching over her physique, every line of her form curving silkily, outlining her secrets for a mere second before they were hidden again.
Her dance on the main stage had been entrancing. Her dance here was imprisoning.
She turned so that her back was facing him fully, then bent forward so that her shapely ass was pointed straight at him. His eyes were stuck on her perfect apple bottom and he only wished that could be a bit more literal.
"Now remember," she purred. "Look but don't touch."
She backed up toward him in time with the music, her upper body still bent over while her butt was high in the air. Danny's knees instinctively drew apart as she approached and moved between them. His knuckles turned white as he held on tightly to the chair to keep them from wandering where they shouldn't.
She whipped around in a flurry, her incredible legs quickly splaying to straddle him as she perched herself on his lap. She coyly stole his jaw and pet his neck.
"I thought you said no touching?" Danny managed to rasp out through his dried throat.
"No, silly boy," said Spectra. "You're not allowed to touch me."
Bobbing and grinding along with the music, she continued her erotic dance right on his thighs. Danny tilted his head back in both frustration and ecstasy, not sure if his body was betraying him or doing him a favor. Did he really need this? Should he need this? Did he want this?
He didn't know the answers to any of these questions.
"That a Thermos in your pocket?" Spectra rubbed his thighs. "Or are you just happy to be here?"
His head was still tilted back as it buzzed over a multitude of replies but all he could get out was "Mmm… I had a Thermos but…mmm… What was the question again?"
She chuckled and stood, her hands never losing contact with his upper body as she moved directly behind him and ran her hands down his torso close to his hips. Her lips gently grazed his ear.
"You want to see more than this, don't you, Danny?"
He moved his head to get a better look at her. Her mouth was drawn in a pouty smirk.
"More?" he murmured.
She pressed her cleavage against the top of his head. "There's so much more of me to see. Don't you want to see more of me, Danny dear?"
Danny hummed his uncertainty as he tried to think through the fog and lack of blood in his head. "I don't know if…if I should. I mean, you're… You're my… You're one of my enemies."
Spectra chortled melodically as she moved around to face him again. "Not here, we aren't. Right here, right now, we're just a man and a woman in the same room. Let's not complicate it beyond that."
She cupped her breasts still clad in her tight top, pushing them together and creating an even larger rift between them. The sight immediately brought Danny's head forward again. Spectra smiled triumphantly at the response. "I knew you couldn't resist."
She slipped her fingers in the collar of her top, teasing and pulling at it to expose bits of her skin. "Want me to take this off?"
Danny swallowed. Yes!
He said nothing.
Spectra puckered her lips in playful contemplation. "Well, I think I can be persuaded." She lowered the shoulder of her top, revealing a bra strap. "For the right price."
"The right price?" Fog continued buzzing in Danny's head. "But this was your idea. I didn't ask you for any of this."
"Oh?" Spectra gave him an apathetic shrug. "Well, I can certainly stop if you want." She looked down at her chest and traced circles around her still-covered nipples. "Plenty of other men here who'd love to take your place."
Danny swallowed again, a futile attempt to gather enough saliva so that he could actually get some words out. "How much?" he asked in a croaky squeak that was totally not manly at all and he hated himself for it.
Spectra put a finger to her chin in faux contemplation. "I quite like Mr. Andrew Jackson."
Andrew Jackson. He knew that was a president, but which bill was he on? Crap, he was way too drunk to actually be thinking.
He pulled out the cash from his pocket and sorted through them. Mostly small bills, but he had a few larger bills for buying drinks.
Shit. Andrew Jackson was on the twenty dollar bill.
Irritably, he thrust the bill out toward Spectra, who graciously took it and slipped it into the waistband of her pants. She then played with her top again, lifting and stretching it before phasing it off entirely and dropping it to the floor, revealing the same black strappy bra she had shown off earlier during her pole dance on the main stage. Her breasts looked ready to pop out of the tight lingerie.
She shimmied up to him and bent over before him so that her womanly all-day suckers hung right in front of him, absolutely begging to be groped and squeezed. But Danny kept his hands down and dug his nails into his palms.
"What do you think?" Spectra ran her fingers along her bra strap. "Nice, right?"
Danny said nothing, not about to give her the satisfaction of letting her know that this was a most excellent sight for him indeed.
The music filled his ears again as she resumed her sensual dance, now topless with only a brassiere barely holding her up. Danny watched her move and dip and spread her legs wide, wishing she would come close to him again, wishing she'd throw that leg over his shoulder and lean in close to him so he could feel the heat of her body.
Or did ghosts even have that sort of heat? There was only one way for him to find out, if she was willing to show him.
"Is this enough, Danny boy?" Spectra's manicured fingers tucked into the waistband of her pants. "Or do you want to see more?"
He definitely wanted to see more but he didn't want her to know that. He had already given her so much power over him.
He should really just leave. Why was he still here? How was she keeping him here? He felt like a prisoner, her prisoner, and yet a prisoner that was staying here voluntarily.
"I think another twenty should be enough," cooed Spectra as she unbuttoned her pants and pulled down the zipper.
That did it. Just the sight of her thong peeking out as she unzipped took control of his brain. Danny held out a bill to her, which she daintily took between two fingers.
"Much obliged, darling." She took the other twenty out of her waistband and secured both bills in her bra strap. "How do you want it?" Her thumbs were in her waistband and pushing against the fabric. "Slow or fast?"
That question alone sent his blood pumping in all kinds of directions. He gave the smallest shake of his head to indicate he didn't care as long as she took them off already.
Spectra laughed and kicked off her heels, one skidding across the floor somewhere, the other hitting a wall with a thud. She turned so her back was toward him and slowly slid her pants past her hips, down her thighs, and below her ankles, her body sinking lower and lower as she remained bent at the waist, giving him a perfect eyeful of her full-mooned hump. Her skin was shiny and perfect, whether it was due to the lighting in the room or simply her ghostly aura.
But what nearly knocked him out was the G-string riding up her crevasse and the black fabric dipping between the folds of her lower lady lips. The sort of sight that seemed completely forbidden and yet she was dangling it right in front of him, wanting him to stare at it, inviting him to admire it.
And it was certainly worth all the admiration.
More dancing, more slinking, more twisting and wrapping herself around him, groping and molesting his shoulders and abs and thighs and all he could do was sit there and let her, unable to touch her himself.
"Is this enough for you, sweetie?" Her breath burned the tip of his ear. "Or do you still want more?"
Danny swayed a bit. "I… I don't know…"
Spectra hummed with amusement. "You really are so cute." She was in his lap once again, straddling him with her strong thighs. She traced circles along his jaw and chin. "Acting all shy when we both know exactly what you want."
Danny's eyes couldn't stay on her face for long. They wandered down to her bust, which was pressed close to his own beating chest.
"You want me to take this bra off, don't you?" asked Spectra.
She jiggled her breasts. Danny watched them bounce, felt their vibrations through his shirt against his warmed skin.
Spectra grabbed his chin. "Come on, Danny. Tell me what you want."
His mouth was so dry, so raw. He was overcome with the strangest compulsion to wet his throat with her saliva, push his mouth to hers and drink her in.
"Do you want me to take my bra off, Danny?"
His eyes traveled south again. He nodded.
"Use your words. Tell me you want me to take my bra off. Say it, sweetie. Come on."
Danny concentrated, put all his energy into getting the words off his tongue. "I want you to take your bra off. Please."
He was practically panting by the time he finished. Spectra patted his cheek before standing and pulling on her bra straps enticingly, slipping them off her shoulders, sticking the bills that had been in her bra down into the front of her thong. Danny eagerly leaned forward.
"Forty."
Danny watched her lips move but barely understood what she said. He only blinked in response.
"Forty," she said again, simply.
"Forty?" Danny echoed.
"Mmm hmm. Twenty for each boob, sweetie." Spectra cupped her breasts and gave him a small amused pout as she waited.
Danny took an extra moment to register this fee she had just sprung on him. His body screamed at him to comply already, to do whatever it would take to get this woman to remove her clothes.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the last two twenties he had brought with him. "I should've known this wouldn't be cheap," he grumbled as he held the bills out to her.
Spectra plucked the bills out of his hand. "Well, you know what they say." She turned so that her back was to him and slipped the two bills into the band of her G-string, one pressed against each ass cheek. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty."
With her back still to him, she reached behind and gracefully unhooked the clasp of her bra. The skimpy item fell away from her shoulders and down her arms. She caught it with the fingers of one hand and held it out, dropping it to the floor beside her.
Danny waited for her to turn around, but she only looked down at herself, her hands appearing to grope and fondle her newly freed assets.
"Are you gonna make me pay more to have you turn around or something?" asked Danny.
Spectra chuckled. "That is a pretty good idea." She turned around at last, her hands covering her breasts. "But no. I won't be that cruel to you, darling boy."
She pressed her hands to her breasts one final time before slowly running them down her body, revealing black diamond-shaped pasties covering her nipples. "House rules," she said casually, flicking one of the pasties. "But for you, I might be willing to…bend those rules."
She leaned over at the hips, resting her hands on his knees and sliding them up his thighs. Her eyes were on his face, but his eyes were held captive by her dangling boobs.
She set her ass on his lap, knees on either side of the chair. She held up her bosoms and aimed them right at his face.
"It's killing you that you can't touch these, huh?" She slapped them upward a couple times. "But do you wanna guess how they feel? I'll tell you if you're right."
Danny watched every movement of her breasts, every roll, every wave.
"Do you think they're soft? Or maybe firm?" Spectra looked down at her bust with puckered lips. "Do you think they'd fit in your hands? Or maybe they're a little bigger, hmm? And just what color could my nips possibly be?" She tenderly placed her hands on the sides of his face. "The mystery makes this all the more enticing, doesn't it?"
Her face was so close to his. Too close. And yet he for some masochistic reason wanted her to come even closer.
The music seemed to fade in and out as her lap dance continued. She was all around him. Her legs were all around him. Her big bouncy boobs were all around him and against him and it was just so unfair that all he could do was sit here unmoving.
This was exactly why he had always hated these private dances. Tucker loved them, but Danny hated the lack of intimacy and closeness even with the girl sliding right up his thighs. He wanted to join the dance, not just be a passive onlooker. He wanted to touch just as much as he was being touched.
Spectra was behind his chair now, her breath on his neck, her nails running down his chest.
He really wanted to touch her. Place his hands on her arms, turn his face so that his mouth was aligned with hers.
How dare this cruel woman make him feel this way. This woman who had tormented him as a teen and made him feel like an unwanted freak. How dare she toy with all of his feelings again and twist all of his emotions again into something so horrifying and sick and maddening.
"Oh, my. I'm getting kind of cold." Spectra held her arms and shivered theatrically. "I might need to cover up again. Now where did I put my bra?"
She walked with long strides and pretended to search the floor. Danny curiously watched her.
"Oh. There it is." She bent over at the hips right in front of him, wiggling her ass in his face, only a thin thong strap passing between her supple globes and holding the bills that had once been his. She picked up her bra a couple times, dropping it and claiming it was "slippery" each time.
"Oh, dear. I'm just so cold." She slid her ass closer to him but for some reason just could not pick up her bra no matter how many times she tried. "Oh, but maybe I should ask you first. Would you be all right with me putting my bra back on, sweetie?"
Danny groaned and finally got the hint. He reached into his pocket yet again and counted out another forty, this time in fives and tens since his twenties were all gone. He held the bills out to her.
"You trying to make a donation, darling?" Spectra bounced on her heels, her rear bouncing along as well. "You know where it goes."
His eyes followed the bouncing ball in front of him. In a trance, he reached out and lifted the band of her thong, placing the bills beneath it and letting it snap back into place. Spectra straightened again.
"Ooh, I suddenly feel much warmer." She turned around to face him. "How about you, Danny dear? Do you need to be warmed up?"
Before he could answer, she was upon him again, warming up his lap very much indeed, the skimpiest of fabric keeping her most private skin and folds and visions secret from him. Her body wound around him, using him like the pole she had worked in the same manner on the main stage. Her breath tickled his ear and brushed his neck and swept across his lips.
Whenever she stepped away, he missed her. When she came in close, he wanted to melt into her.
His mind was playing an endless stream of visions: their arms and legs tangling together, their centers entwining, their pulses and nerve endings connecting in sensory rhythm.
Was he insane? Or was he sad?
Was he going too far?
How far would he let her take him?
How far did he want her to take him?
"How far do you want me to go, Danny honey?" she purred into his ear, her legs straddling him on the chair, the front of her thong so very close to his own aching groin.
She hooked her legs around him, latching onto the back of his chair. With her butt on his lap, she arched back, her breasts stretching with her body, nipples visibly hardening beneath the pasties. Her arms reached behind her she continued to lengthen her spine.
"Why so quiet, sweetie? I asked you a question." She pressed a palm to just above her breast and moved it down her body, groping and fondling herself until the tips of her fingers entered the hemline of her thong. "How far do you want me to go?"
Her fingers dipped lower.
"This far?"
His eyes were once again held prisoner. His chin was tucking tight toward his chest, his head feeling so heavy he could almost fall forward into her and yet so light he could pass out.
Her fingers lifted his chin. Danny forced himself to meet her gaze.
"If you want me to go further than this, Danny dear, you're gonna have to buy me dinner."
She lightly pressed her lips to just beyond the corner of his mouth before standing again and stretching her arms to the ceiling, her long legs accentuated by the stately length of her entire being. Danny blinked through his stunned confusion as he tried to make sense of what just happened.
No more. He couldn't play this game with her any longer. She was doing far too many upsetting things to his head, just like she had when he was in high school.
This was too familiar in a way that made him way too uncomfortable.
He bolted out of the chair. Spectra gave him a wide-eyed look of genuine surprise before regaining her composure.
"What's up, cutie?" she asked with mock sweetness.
"I'm done with this," he said in a scratchy voice. "I'm leaving." He started walking past her.
"Excuse me, but you need to pay for the dance."
Danny halted. "What?"
Spectra held out a hand. "That dance wasn't free, dear."
"Are you kidding me? You're the one who dragged me in here! I didn't even want a dance!"
"You could've left at any time." Spectra shrugged. "Listen, sweetie, you're at a strip club. I performed a service for you." Her eyes flitted briefly to his crotch. "A service you very clearly enjoyed."
Danny swallowed down a growl and kept his eyes level with hers, trying his best to blur out her unjustly hot body.
She sauntered closer with her hand out. "So please pay up for the service I gave you. Or am I gonna have to call my manager?"
"You know full well I could take on whatever manager you have here."
"Ooh, so brave hiding behind those ghost powers of yours, huh? But would you really use them on an innocent human, Danny baby? And do you really wanna get your picture plastered here branding you as banned for life if you decide to just fly out of here?"
He stared at her empty hand, his head spinning and whirling as he tried to piece together the meaning of her words.
But he just wanted to leave now. He wanted to leave the club entirely. What did this money even matter to him anymore? He certainly didn't want her holding this over his head or possibly tracking him down just to get her money.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the remainder of his bills. He started to count them out before giving up and placing the entire wad into her hand. He stuffed his hands into his now completely empty pockets and walked out of the room. No more words, no goodbye, no Thermos to lock her up in. His only option was to just let her go and try to forget that this night ever happened at all.
He reentered the main public area of the club, panting slightly, head spinning. He blinked in the soft glow of sultry lighting, attempting to readjust his vision to the darkness. The current dancer on the stage had almost every man's attention in the room.
Danny made his way back to the table he had been sharing with Tucker. Tucker was still there, had probably not moved at all. Star was no longer in his lap, but she had claimed the chair that Danny had left behind.
"Hey, dude, where you been?" asked Tucker somewhat loudly with a large grin. "You took off without saying anything."
Danny stood still with slightly clenched fists as he contemplated what to say. His muscles were twitching and cramping.
Star frowned at him. "Fenton, you're looking kind of stressed. Want me to get one of the girls to give you a dance? Tucker says you really have a thing for Thumper."
"No," said Danny quickly, hoarsely. He looked at Tucker. "I'm leaving."
Tucker stood. "What's up? Something wrong?"
"Everything's fine. I'm fine. I just want to leave now."
Tucker put an arm around Danny's shoulders and pulled him a short distance away from Star. "Danny, what's going on? Seriously? Are you not having a good time?"
"No, Tucker. I'm not having a good time."
"Why? What happened?"
"Spectra. She—I—"
"Wait, Spectra's here? Where?"
"She's one of the strippers here! You seriously didn't see her?"
"What? No! You're kidding!"
"Figures." Danny shrugged out of the huddle. "You were too busy chatting up Star."
"Well, are you okay?" Tucker looked him over. "Did you get into a fight? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." Danny put a hand to his head and inhaled shakily. "But I'm leaving. You can stay. I just wanted you to know."
"But why, dude? It's still early!"
"I'm just done."
Danny began to leave, but Tucker grabbed his arm.
"Wait," he said. "I'll leave, too. We should talk."
Danny shook his head, suddenly feeling guilty. "No, Tucker, really. You should stay and have fun. Star obviously seems pretty interested in you. I don't want to spoil your night."
"But this was supposed to be a night to celebrate your new job." Tucker frowned deeply. "I don't feel right just letting you go like this."
Danny smiled. "I appreciate it. Really. But I honestly want to be alone right now." He chuckled. "And I'm also completely out of money."
"What? Didn't you say you brought three hundred dollars?"
"Yup. I blew through it all."
Tucker's mouth hung open in astonishment. Danny laughed and patted his shoulder.
"I'll tell you more tomorrow, okay? Just…have a good night without me." He glanced behind Tucker at Star, who was waiting impatiently at the table, many bills sticking out of her sexy lingerie. "Tell Star I said bye."
He gave Tucker a final reassuring smile before heading toward the exit, his smile immediately fading once Tucker could no longer see his face. He pushed through the doors with his head down, nearly bumping into the bouncer. He walked quickly while staring at the ground and did not look up again until the lights from the club's signs were no longer reflecting on the asphalt.
He could not understand what he was feeling.
When he was certain no one was around, he transformed into his ghost form and took off into the sky.
She had taken all his money, but it felt like she had taken something else as well, some part of his soul that left him feeling damaged.
…
Another end to another long night. Spectra plopped down on her couch in the apartment she had managed to secure by overshadowing the manager of the building. Living in the Ghost Zone was no fun, after all. It was so much more exciting to live among humans.
Especially the male ones.
She pulled out all of her money and began sorting it out, counting and neatly organizing the bills.
She stopped when she came across a slip of paper that was most certainly not a bill: a hastily scrawled note that had been tucked in between the wad of cash a certain half-ghost had given her.
She smiled at the memory of essentially holding him captive while she gave him a private dance, the way he so obviously enjoyed it but at the same time didn't want to admit it. That boy had always been her favorite target when he was young, and she couldn't say that had changed now that he was a full-grown man.
She read the message scribbled on the note.
Dinner at seven. The Red.
She blinked in surprise, turned it over to see if anything else was written.
Well, she certainly hadn't expected him to take her dinner proposal seriously. But how could she possibly turn him down? She didn't want to disappoint her highest-paying patron of the night.