A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters
Warning: nudity, sexual themes
Word Count: 1352
Pansy heard them before she saw them. That was usually the case. Stag parties were loud, drunk before they entered the door. This could go one of two ways. Either they would be super cheap, having spent their money on booze, or they'd be so drunk she'd end up with more money than they intended to give her.
"Look at that one, look at how she moves!"
"What do you think she can do with those?"
"This was brilliant!"
She ignored them as she leaned against the wall backstage waiting for the current dancer, Ursula, to finish. Ursula was a favorite. Her tentacles were a sight and most men wanted them wrapped around parts of their anatomy. Pansy wasn't like Ursula or some of the other girls working here. She wasn't special like them. She looked completely human, she didn't have tentacles, or horns, or a pretty prehensile tail.
What Pansy lacked though, she made up for in her pure talent. She was a siren, the kind that in the history books sang men to their deaths. Pansy didn't even need to strip for the men to start clamoring over her. But it was an added benefit. She heard the last notes of Ursula's song end.
"Come back!" someone called. Pansy laughed. Everyone loved Ursula, or at least they loved the idea of the things she could do. Pansy passed Ursula as she stepped out from behind the coral and gold colored curtain.
Her black lipstick covered lips curling into a smirky smile, Pansy paraded on stage. Her black stilettos clicking against the floor. She nodded to the D.J, a gorgon by the way he was hiding behind the mirrored glass. The club catered to those who wanted something different, a stranger type of strange. The music started, an eerie sounding melody. Pansy wrapped her hands around the silvery pole in the middle of the stage.
Her fingernails glowing green in the lights. She could see the stag party she'd heard earlier. They appeared human, but then again, appearances could always be deceiving. She'd chosen this song special, it had a sad haunting melody, not something one would usually dance to. Pansy knew her strengths though, this was what they wanted to see from her, a siren pulling them from their seats. She raised her legs, her feet slipping from the shoes.
Her toenails were painted black to match her lips and hair. One leg around the pole, she tipped back, letting her hair trail behind her as she spun. Her costume was that of a sea creature. The skirt was made of stands of nearly see through green fabric, her green sequined thong glittered beneath it. Her top was merely two shells that covered her breasts. She spun again, pulling herself up right, her dark eyes glittering as she watched the men.
The stag boys were watching, closer than she might have liked. There was a predatory look in one of their eyes. She ignored it, as the music swelled she popped the small string holding the skirt around her body. It drifted to the floor. She climbed higher on her pole, her hands holding it tightly as she did the splits, giving her audience a good view of her thong.
She could hear them cheering, cat calling. This was the fun part of the night. With a simple adjustment of her hand placement, she walked down the pole, making sure to shake her arse as she moved. This part of the dance was done, now it was time for the meet and greet as she called it. Strutting the stage, she could feel them shoving money in her thong, feel them grabbing at the strap that kept the shells in place. She walked to the edge of the oblong stage.
"Do you want to see more?" she asked, waiting for them to cheer, to throw money at her. She laughed, her musical laughter echoing through the room. "I can't hear you," she whispered, pouting her lips. The cheers grew until they were nearly deafening. Pansy knew her power fueled them a bit, but she never allowed it to get out of control. This was one of her favorite parts of her show. A waterfall of water poured down from the ceiling causing the shells to dissolve before the crowd's eyes. Pansy posed, her nipples were still covered by tiny star shaped bits of the same fabric as her thong.
She turned from the audience as the music started to fade. She stood by her pole, watching them throw anything they had at her, anything in an attempt to make her want them. She couldn't care less about these men. They weren't her type, but she did love putting on a show. That was the main reason she'd allowed herself to be booked for a private show if someone was willing to pay. She glanced over at the stage manager, a dragon named Charlie. He nodded. Someone had paid for her, for tonight.
Pansy had one more dance and then some lucky bloke was going to have her full attention for an evening. This song, was a bouncier one, not quite a sea shanty, but repetitive and moving. The whole point was for Pansy's breasts to bounce as she moved, as she twisted and turned.
She watched the stag party, the one man, a red head, was watching her intently as if trying to figure something out. He wasn't the predator of the group, there was something else there, a loneliness. She smiled at him, directly at him. She knew he was the one who's paid for her, knew he was going to leave his friends for time with her. She found, this time, this night, this man, she didn't mind as much.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Pansy stepped off the stage and was ushered to her usual private room. The man was there, the red head. She'd never been wrong guessing who it was that wanted a private show with her. She walked over to him.
"What do you want?" she asked, nodding to the pole in the room. He could also ask her to put on a handful of costumes from the trunk, get a lap dance. It was up to him.
"I want to tell you that you don't have to do this. I... they dragged me out tonight. It's Theo's stag and when they found out I'd never been to a club... That I had never...been with a girl."
"So, they paid for you to get up close and personal with me?" Pansy asked, sitting sideways across his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck.
"Yes, and...I can't tell them this, but I don't want this. I'm sure you're a lovely person. You're an amazing danger and your costume choices, the way you matched your nails and the gleam of your hair-"
Pansy blinked, realizing despite the fact she was sitting in his lap nearly naked, she didn't feel him rising, didn't feel anything from his jeans.
"You're gay and they don't know?" she asked. He nodded.
"So they paid a ton of money for you to be here with me not knowing you have absolutely no interest in me sexually?"
"Right. I should just go."
"No, they paid for my time. I mean, I get the money anyway, but I feel bad because you're not getting anything out of it. I know, how about I teach you a few moves on the pole? I mean, it could come in handy when you meet the right man?" she suggested.
"That sounds amazing. I'm Ron by the way. What am I supposed to call you, Sirena?"
"Pansy's fine, since I'm not going to be luring you to your death," Pansy laughed, pulling Ron from his seat and showing him a few simple moves, just ways to move your body against the pole, ways to look sexy without having any training. By the end of the hour, Ron had learned a few basics, and Pansy had made a new friend, one that promised to call her if he needed any more advice.
