Like so many times before, Maleficent walked through the crowded, twilight-lit streets of Amsterdam with Diaval, whose arm was outstretched protectively, loyally by her side. The city - or its loud, drunk tourists - had never frightened her, but she saw no harm in keeping her companion close by her side even in the non-social mood she found herself in.
If decisions had been solely hers to make, she would've stayed at their hotel, cuddled up in sheets, with a glass of fine red wine beside her. The never-ending business trips had a way of exhausting her, even though the flight from London hadn't been that long. Airports, people, cabs, city-lights, more people, hotels, bags; a single-serving life. As she'd unpacked her bag at the Singel Hotel, she'd sworn she was in for an early night.
Unfortunately, as she was the one who had forced Diaval to fly out with her, she'd given up her right to make decisions. Thinking about it now, it was all too predictable - and so very tiring.
"It's here somewhere...", Diaval mumbled and put his arm around her waist, directing them further towards Korte Niezel.
Maleficent had positively gritted her teeth throughout their walk from the hotel; how had she not seen it coming? The only tourist attraction Diaval was interested in seeing was the sea of red lights - and its women. The further they walked, the more she began regretting what she'd agreed to. Apparel-shops and restaurant-menus had quickly become heavy-draped windows of red and crowds of young men, hovering around vaguely-lit, maroon booths, cheering as they searched through their wallets for anything they could use as payment.
Maleficent couldn't help but glare in disgust at the men who openly leaned on the glass-windows, the thin material being the only thing separating them from their object of pleasure. She drew in a quick breath as she saw an elderly man step out into the narrow alley through a wooden, purple door. His beret hid his shame as Maleficent made eyes with him, but only for a moment. She was well aware that there were eyes on her too; she was in the wrong place.
Had she not been with Diaval, she was certain she would've gotten a few offers herself. Men walking past them, both alone and in groups, seemed to yearn for eye-contact as she felt their gazes burn into her face. Jaw tightly clenched, she let her friend walk her down another street that bathed in glowing, red light, story upon story, coming from the old houses built upon each other.
"Ah, there it is", Diaval sighed happily and pointed at something pink flashing at a distance.
Maleficent's eyes narrowed; they were standing on the right side of the river, and as far as her eye could see, there were red-lit, glassy booths with women grinding inside them. Bridge after bridge, people paraded in and out of the area, their laughter and noises stinging in her ears. This was no place to be at night.
As they descended down Oudezijds Achterburgwal, Maleficent's eye was caught by a man stumbling up some stairs from a booth with its drapes closed, his hands fumbling with the zipper of his jeans. Maleficent stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed Diaval's wrist.
"You've got to be joking", she hissed, nodding towards the man stumbling past them, his face as red as someone's who'd just run a marathon.
"Relax", he smiled, pulling his hand back. "We're just making memories, yeah?"
"I'd like to go back now", she said calmly, her eyes traveling from men gazing at her clevage to a woman on her right, pushing hers flat against the glass of her booth.
"10 minutes", Diaval pleaded, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. "I'll pay for your ticket. Please don't make me go alone, I'll feel like such a pervert."
She raised her brows and chuckled, eyeing his coat. "You are a pervert. You could really flash someone with that thing."
He looked down self-consciously and scratched the back of his head, then his eyes travelled to the pink, glowing elephant only a couple of blocks away. "It's right there. I just need some action. And since you won't let me fu -"
"I beg you not to finish that sentence", she hissed as she began walking towards the huge, smiling elephant. "For your own well-being."
"Hmpf", he growled as he hurried after her, careful not to trip on the unevenly-built street.
They finally reached something that could've been a cinema; there was a doorman, apparently checking ID's, in front of a black ticket-booth. Above it all was a wide, pink sign with its world-famous elephant. The name Casa Rosso reflected itself in Maleficent's glassy eyes as she stood and gazed upon the venue, her throat suddenly tight. She'd heard of the place, but what awaited, she did not know.
Diaval exchanged a couple of words in Dutch with the doorman, then nodded towards Maleficent, who was standing a few feet away, hands in the pockets of her Donna Karan-jacket, eyes on the people passing them. At the sound of his voice, she met his gaze, and with a final, deep sigh, she stepped forward towards the entrance.
Diaval was flipping through his wallet for euros when the doorman took a step closer to Maleficent, making her turn her head. He was a heavily-built man, all in black with his head shaved.
"What do you want to see in there?" he asked, his accent stinging in her ears. "Girls?"
Maleficent straightened her posture and pursed her red lips as she looked at him with her heavy-lidded eyes. "Something raw", she replied between her teeth.
He raised a pierced brow and shot a glare at Diaval, who was finally paying for the tickets. "Why raw?" he asked.
Maleficent exhaled slowly and glared at her heels before looking in Diaval's direction. "Because it's the only thing that turns me on", she replied indifferently.
Diaval led her through a narrow, dark hallway until they took a right, entering a huge, old-fashioned cinema. There was no white screen, though; on either side of the black, dim-lit stage was a striptease-pole, beside thick, wine-red drapes. 'Why am I not surprised', Maleficent thought as Diaval led her to the seventh row from the stage.
She sank into the surprisingly comfortable red, velvet chair and unzipped her coat as Diaval did the same. There weren't many people in the theatre as it was Thursday-night; a few German students sat in the row behind them, and on the left side of Diaval, across the aisle, was a group of both men- and businesswomen.
"Are you excited?" Diaval whispered, his leg shaking like it always did when he was nervous.
"About what?" she asked. "Leather-dressed hunks without stamina and brunettes smoking cigars between their legs? Yes, I'm absolutely out of my wits."
"Forget it", he mumbled, knowing his excitement was something Maleficent would neither understand nor accept. "I'm going to order us some drinks."
"There are drinks?" she asked, a sharp brow raised in suspicion.
Diaval held his hand out and within seconds a skinny, well-dressed man appeared with a tray. Diaval gave him two of his drink-tickets, ordering a beer for himself and a glass of champagne for Maleficent.
"How often do you think they scrub these seats?" she whispered in his ear, but was met by an annoyed snort. She sat back into her chair and was just about to light a cigarette when the dim lighting decreased even more, and an erotic, sensual tune with strong beats began playing.
The lighting on the stage switched to dark maroon as a brunette in killer heels and a black, plastic bikini walked onto the stage, swinging her hips as she walked. Maleficent raised her hand to her eyebrows and covered her face with her palm as their drinks arrived - and the woman on the stage untied the thin strands holding her top in place.
The second Maleficent wrapped her fingers around the glass of champagne, she threw half of the liquid back and hissed between clenched teeth as Diaval shifted in his seat, mesmerized by the tall brunette on stage. Maleficent felt her cheeks burn, both from the alcohol and from the embarrassment of where she found herself.
The drapes closed, and as they opened again the light was olive-green, the beat of the music quickened, followed by echoing moans in the background. Cheeks flushing, Maleficent peeked at the stage; on a moving, round pedestal was a man on his back, taut muscles so hard they must've painted his skin, and on top of him sat a woman, naked on her knees, her head bopping up and down in his lap.
Maleficent looked down again, not because she felt flushed, but because there was nothing erotic in the show everyone else seemed to be following so intently. The movements were rehearsed and mechanic and neither performer's expression was that of pleasure. It felt fake, and Maleficent had no use for fake - she had use for raw.
As the drapes closed for a second time, Diaval shot a glare at Maleficent, to see if she was enjoying herself at all, but her head was tilted down and her eyes only shot at the stage for a second or two at a time. Then, the drapes opened, and the light that fell upon her sharp features was turquoise.
Out on stage walked a petite figure with blonde, curly hair braided around her face, and long, slender legs. She was too thin to be a regular, but had curves in the right places and as she raised her chin to gaze at the audience, her azure-blue eyes were filled with innocence and pleading, as if she had no wish to be there, at all. Dressed only in red hot-pants, heels, and a see-through, white top, her hands slowly slid to the hem of the garment as the music slowed down its beat.
Maleficent's eyes grew wide as the blonde stepped closer to the edge of the stage, slender fingers pulling her top over her head, revealing in full her perky, beautifully formed breasts. Her eyes shot up and down between the floor and the lights on her as her fingers sensually dragged over her breasts to the zipper of her hot-pants. When her fingers slid inside, pulling the zipper down, her crystal-blue, teary eyes met Maleficent's emerald, surprised ones.
The brunette leaned forward in her seat, as far as possible until her chin nearly touched the seat in the row in front of her. Eyes on the blonde, her mouth fell agape and she heard Diaval clear his throat.
"What are you - "
"Ssh", she hissed, raising her hand to quiet him. Those slender hips grinding to the music and the blonde hair swaying as she threw her head back. She slid the hot-pants down her thighs, all the way to her ankles and kicked them off in front of the audience, exposing herself completely, yet not a muscle moved on her face. When the beat quickened, she turned her back to the crowd and swayed her hips once more before she spread her legs wide, bent over and covered the floor with her blond tresses. She bent back up and threw a promiscuous glare at the audience before one hand travelled down her front to between her legs and the other slid down her lower back, to her round bottom, spreading her cheeks.
"Fuck", Maleficent whispered and brought her hand up to her mouth. "I know her."