Something Spicy

”Come oooooooon.” Thorn gave Lyla’s arm a semi-hard tug and pulled her into the darkness, getting her out of the man’s non-existent hair. Most of Vic’s job consisted of standing in one place for hours and being intimidating, and it was a job he did well - as fun as it would’ve been to have Lyla stand around and heckle him, he had to be getting back to his job, already moving to take care of a couple that were coming up behind them. He took a moment to blow away the imaginary smoke Lyla sent his way, then went back to it.

Thorn hadn’t been joking about getting lost in the club. It was big inside, bigger than it appeared from the street thanks to the way it expanded into their neighbors, and on nights when shows were on it could get crazy. Tonight was one such night, with patrons of every size and style walking about. A woman in a red corset walked by with her slave behind him, a man who was nearly naked save for his speedo, his gimp mask and the collar around his neck. A couple of guys dressed up like bikers, lovers by the way they were so close to each other, nearly bumped into them as they passed, so wrapped up in their barely audible argument that the didn’t seem to notice anyone else. A group of Japanese girls, just barely old enough to be in here, hung about a round table, giggling and laughing and pointing at every weird thing that passed them by, including Thorn and Lyla.

A bar, fully stocked with bottles and people to drink them. Hallways the trailed off to the side, lined with private playrooms. A play area with a couple of mistresses whipping some guy hanging down from the ceiling, yelping as he swayed from side to side. But the crown jewel on it all was the dancer floor, a large expansive area with flashing tiles, the perfect place to let loose...but that wasn’t what it was being used for tonight.

The crowd was gathered around in a circle, one that had two women in the middle. Mizuki and her subject for the night.

Mizuki was young, just a little older than Lyla. Thin, slender with precious little muscle to speak of, though she wasn’t afraid to show of her body. She wore a red kimono, or at least the top half of one, with her long, slender legs on prominent display. Brown hair, short, kept that way to never complicate her work. There was a wild glint in her eyes as she worked on her toy for the night - an older woman, approaching her thirties, blond. If Thorn had to guess, she was a tourist, knowing how much Mizuki loved playing with inexperienced ones who just came in for a taste of the crazy life. She was naked, not in the best of shape, but that didn’t matter to her current mistress. Mizuki was in the process of wrapping her up tight, covering her in an intricate web of crisscrossing ropes. They cut through her legs, over her breasts, even around her eyes, with such a complicated pattern that it was hard to tell where anything started and began.

Judging by the way the blonde was squirming, she loved it. Mizuki's stage name was Jorōgumo, after some mythical spider-woman, and while Thorn didn't know - or care - much about legends, she had to admit, it was a good fit.

Thorn had stopped for a moment to watch the show, and it was tempting to just stay there, but Lyla’s hand did need tending. They had cameras if she wanted to see more. ”Love to watch her work.”

She whistled and went on, leading Lyla to the back, past the bar, towards the dressing rooms. With so much action going on, they were able to slip in without worrying about too many prying eyes. Just the two of them. For the moment.

”Killjoy’s probably on the floor, somewhere. Here, let’s just…” She led Lyla to one of the dressing room, one with her own name on the front, and opened to reveal her personal space. It was just a small place, somewhere for her to hang out and switch outfits and occasionally fuck. A bed, big enough for two so long as the other one wasn’t much bigger than her, a closet stuffed to bursting with her outfits, and a TV on the wall and a minifridge beside it. Quaint and homey. ”Just hand here for a minute, all right? Thorn opened the way for her.  “Got to track her down and bring her back, find the First Aid kit.”

If Lyla could liken this to anything it would have been a carnival or a zoo. Interesting attractions and spectacles all around her. A wonder to behold but this seemed a lifestyle best left to visitation only. The Irish lass had a nasty reputation for you my hard and burning out on things… people as well. It was a wonder that she and Ellie not only had the kinship they did but the fact they still functioned at a unit. She liked Thorn. Her look. That style. Picking on her was a fun game of hers, especially with the looming threat of getting coldcocked by a woman with a right straight with roughly the same strength of a car pileup. There was danger there, which was fun… until it became a routine.

It was a strange sensation to be among one of the most mundane things here. She was used to being bombastic and drawing scenes either with her look or attitude, but here she was just some normy. No leather or lace to speak of. She felt almost other here, which was strange given how much this place catered towards what she enjoyed more than nearly anyplace else. It could have been the alcohol in her system but even after jokingly adopting the label, tagalong was irking her. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to be Thorn's second or someone her co-workers mistook for a client.

The first thing they had stopped to admire was a unique little fetish she was unfamiliar with, though in truth she imagined most of what went on here was probably filed under a similar location. For all the amount of raunchy sex she may have had, the location tended to play more of a part than the technique or style. Things here were a bit more elegantly portrayed than the gymnastic flexibility she could display getting laid in a restroom stall. She stared on with clear curiosity, not bothering to drag down the experience by throwing all the questions she had Thorn's way. This was basically Cirque du Soleil of sex work, she would enjoy the artistry of it rather than pick apart the why and how.

When she was pulled away it was a bit too soon, still wondering where exactly it was going. Her eyes quickly scanned the bar in passing, scouting for any unattended drinks she could pilfer but they all seemed to be spoken for or in plane view of someone else. Once they crossed into the back, she dragged her heels a bit. Prying eyes trying to sneak glance past curtains and into cracked doorways as they went. Then one was actually opened for her with the expressed intent of her going inside. She gave a flourished how to Thorn as she strolled into dressing room, giving it a quick once over. Without seeing the name on the door she had pieced together what this room was. The female Sherlock Holmes walked up to the bed and sound in her heel to face the Aussie as she plopped down onto the cushioned edge.

"Hang here. Got it." Lyla gave a chipper response with a smile, nodding in clear acknowledgement. She seemed on board completely until the moment her host left her sight and she no longer heard her heavy footfalls. Slipping off the bed she sauntered up to the minifridge, bending down to take whatever was inside… a train wreck apparently.

Assorted bags, some of which were from fast food chains with half finished meals inside. Tin foil wrapped mysteries and styrofoam containers aplenty as well. The Irish girl indiscriminately rooted through it all for something of interest. She was starving. After some careful sniffs and sampling of cold limp fries, she settled on a half of meatball hoagie that was tucked away in there. Not interested in the hard chilled bread, she picked off the meatballs to pop in her mouth, emptying the sandwich of its primary contents before wrapping the hollow hoagie to later be discovered as plundered.

Chewing down her impromptu snack she placed the room for a few seconds before deciding Thorn had officially taken too long which gave her free reign to get wander. Had it been a minute? Several? She hadn't been keeping track. Part of her was aware that this might ruffle a few feathers in the back of her mind because when she moved to leave she did so as sneakily as possible. Sticking her head out the door, peering both ways… coast was clear. To aid in her mission she snatched a black and purple boa from Thorn's clothing rack and slipped off into the backstage area as she threw it around her neck. Free and clear, she prowled around to see what sort of trouble she could get herself into.

”So, explain this to me again. In your best English, please.”

Thorn had honestly grown just a little tired of explaining this situation to Velma, and considering how brief of a time she’d had to do it, that was no small statement. After she’d left Lyla, she had to go on a small journey through the club, one that took her past the nurse’s usual haunts - she wasn’t watching the shibari display, she wasn’t hanging out in her dressing room, she wasn’t doing a scene. After asking around, she found her fellow domme in the back, smoking a cigarette and flirting with the same bartender she’d been courting for a few weeks now. It took no small amount of coaxing to get her to come along, too. The promise of a fresh cigarette if she fixed up Lyla was what eventually did the trick, and now the two of them were making their way through the throngs, with Thorn doing her best to lay out the situation.

”Don’t know why you’re having such a trouble figuring it out. Simple situation.” Thorn pushed her way through a group of over enthusiastic dancers, clearing a path for Velma in her wake. ”Got in a bar fight, brought the girl I was hanging out with back, she banged up her fist. Thought you could help.”

”And I can.” There was a snap to Velma’s voice. The woman was calm, most of the time, rarely ever yelled, but she had a way of slicing you with her tongue on the sly. It didn’t help that she was almost old enough to be and sounded a lot like Thorn’s mother. Made Thorn wish she could get her under the whip, sometime. ”I’m just surprised you’re bringing her back here, is all. A little unusual for you. Special girl?”

Thorn looked over her shoulder, making sure Velma could see the flat look in her eyes. For a dominatrix, the woman had some old fashioned ideas. ”Not like that, V.” She rolled her shoulders as they came towards the back. ”Just a friend.”

”A friend you’re trying to get in your bed on a regular basis.”

”That’s the best kind of-”

Lyla was gone.

Thorn could already hear Velma snickering behind her, even over the heavy bass, but she ignored the woman for a moment and took a read on the room. She couldn’t have been there for too long. Maybe she went to the bathroom? Not that she could likely find it with all the chaos, but that wouldn’t stop someone like Lyla from trying. And did she take… ”She took my boa.” Thorn grumbled and stepped back to let out a huge huff. ”Bitch’s lucky she’s so fucking hot.”




As Lyla made her way through the menagerie, she’d have to navigate a sea of human bodies. Everyone seemed wrapped up in their little words around here - their fantasies, their partner, their roles, their play. Getting into a club like this wasn’t the cheapest thing, and people had a tendency of getting some entitlement out of that, not wanting their time to go to waste.

So it wasn’t too surprising when someone eventually bumped into her - a rather striking someone, at that. The woman before Lyla was a tall dominatrix, a head or so above her, with a tight, muscular build and thin glasses. Dressed in black, her outfit was more functional than most of the women around her, something that wouldn’t have been out of place in a wrestling ring.




”Move it.” She spoke with a thick, English accent, dripping contempt with only those two words. Holding a whip in hand, she held her hand up and motioned for the three slaves behind her to stop - a boy and two girl, Japanese and wearing straightjackets and thongs, their gazes focused on the woman’s heels as they followed along.

It was all fun little side attractions as she made her way through the halls. There was an unspoken beauty to be found here, not just because Lyla was a fine connoisseur of all things sexy, but because of the diversity of it all. No barriers of race or ethnicity, just a bunch of people under one umbrella of perversion. Maybe not everyone could appreciate that, but she could oddly enough. She didn't disrupt any activities though, not wishing to take away from the experience. To those who took notice of her passing she would clock the boa at them or offer a small wink. There was no shortage of people who asked if she worked here and what her rates were…

In her idle prying she mistakenly found herself walking into a woman. A quick glance at her and the company she kept she was almost certain this woman worked here. Her bright curious eyes scanned her from head to toe, liking what she saw. A sleek look on a pretty woman. The glasses were a nice touch, though she couldn't help but wonder if they were real. A slender brow raised at the stern direction, part of mind already defaulting to her factory setting of resisting any sort of authority figure. As far as she could get this woman was the ringleader of this group. She certainly had the look of it.

"No please?" Lyla tilted her head just slightly and tried to hold back a smirk. Stirring shit was one of her favorite lass times outside of sex. Her goal however wasn't to bring things to a screeching half and ruin the experience though, so even as she sassed the stranger things the pink haired girl took a step to aside to let her pass if she so chose not to engage in any banter. Despite the courtesy, she seemed fine in engaging in conversation where she could get it.

"You have a name Mistress Snippy?"

”Goddess.”

The correction came almost as soon as Lyla had finished speaking, as if on pure reflex. Her slaves tensed up at the word, showing their training - it was a mistake that many of them had made right out of the gate, when she was first breaking them in, but they all learned better in short order.  The difference wasn’t something that could be easily explained, but she excelled in demonstrating the concept.

A trifling thought. She was about to open her mouth to answer that question, when she had a better idea. She gave her leashes a good tug, pulled them forward. They complied to her commands without any hesitation, taking their positions in front of her, almost as if to protect her. As if she needed it. Cute, though.

”You’re speaking to Goddess Maria.” Her girl spoke up, still keeping her gaze down as she responded, knowing her place. ”Know your place.”

There was a little sass to her tone, trying to get some edge for her goddess, and it brought a sly smirk to Maria’s face. She would’ve been happy to move on from there, but she stopped after another step and cast a curious gaze at the Irishwoman.

”You. I’ve seen you before.” Maria tapped her chin and gave her a look over, centering on that distinctive hair color as some stray lights cast over it. ”Oh. Oh, yes, I recall now. You’re one of the strumpets Jacqueline tore through in her first match. That was…” She took a moment, just a moment to search for the right word, before she settled. ”...amusing.” It would have to do.

Lyla couldn't help but crack a smirk at the correction as her eye wandered over this woman and her human pets. It was hard for her to keep the snark at bay after all the drinks she put down but she kept telling herself that this was a job for this so called goddess and these people were customers. As an outsider she shouldn't really take it upon herself to ruin any illusions or roleplay they had going… it was still tempting to hit her all the same, but she had a feeling Thorn would be the one paying for it later. Sure. She could play along a bit.

"Goddess." The Irish lass reaffirmed with a small nod and a lackluster tone that was proof it had just been said to appease the mistress. It wasn't until one of the slaves came up and addressed her and told her to know her that she really reacted with narrowing eyes. "I know your place is on my shitlist if you say that to me again, whipping girl. I can promise you that you won't be going home happy if that's how things go down."

"Maybe. I haunt people's dreams like a mean sexy ghost. The real thing is better though." Shameless. The pink haired woman gave the sassy slave a dismissive wave, focusing her attention back to Goddess Maria. Out of a joking display she motioned the father, son, and holy spirit in fake praise to her. The name Jacqueline got questioning look from her at first. About to spit back with an immediate denouncement of the other woman statement out of sheer reflex. Her slow mind churned coming up with something that made sense… that must be one of the domme's real name. She just assumed at that point the other woman was speaking about Thorn. After all, that wasn't exactly a normal name… but maybe Rose wasn't Rose's real name either. The thought never crossed her mind until now.

"Glad to know I am famous. Should I tell my mum I've made it since I have Goddesses taking note?" Tore through was a slight overstatement, at least in her mind. While it was true the domme duo had dispatched both members of Bangarang, she thought her own performance had been rather great. Hell, in her mind she was moments away from getting a victory over Thorn if she had been able to make good on their last minute bet. Still, she couldn't fault this woman for an obvious bias… well she shouldn't, but did. "If you ever want to try wrestling, there is always a place for your head between my legs."

Maria was not amused. She didn’t say as much out loud, because she didn’t need to. She made sure to convey her disdain with her curled lip, her even stare, the hand on her hips as she towered over the younger, smaller girl. She knew this type, after all. She was a talker. The mouthy type. The sort that had to have the last laugh, that had to get all the giggles and couldn’t answer a simple question with a simple answer to save her life.

Maria loved those types. More specifically, she loved breaking them. Ideas were beginning to form, but she didn’t want to act on any of them just yet. Best to keep playing this out. When Lyla spoke without respect, her slaves started to speak up and correct her once more, but she tugged their reigns and held them back. For now.

”Famous? Hardly. I just happened to watch your match with Thorn out of curiosity. I wasn’t expecting her to do so well - quite fortunate she only had two no-names to deal with. Suppose Rose pulled a few strings backstage, not surprising.” Maria hadn’t even been looking at Lyla as she spoke, instead taking a moment to adjust her gloves. She paused when a young couple tried to make their way past them on the dance floor, looking to squeeze through. A sharp glance from her conveyed the message on why that was a bad idea, and the promptly reversed course for a different route.

She was just focusing back on Lyla when the woman spoke again, and this time, her words elicited a more pronounced response. Maria laughed. Not much of one, a small chuckle and a smile along with it. Her slaves indulged in louder bursts, brief, before they corrected themselves and kept quiet.

”’Try wrestling’? I’m a Wrestle Angel, you silly bint. I was locking horns with the likes of Mighty Yukiko and Chris Morgan when you were still learning how to lace your boots.” She took a few steps to the side, getting a look at Lyla from another angle, appreciating the view. ”If you want a private lesson, I’ll happily arrange that. If you ask in the proper manner, of course.”

She had been ready to humor this woman and her slaves with some conversation as they had decided not to simply leave. Insults directed at her wouldn't have been an issue. She was rubber as the saying went. Things tended to bounce off of her fairly well… mostly because she didn't care much about what strangers had to say. It wasn't until she spoke about their match that she had really started to bubble over. Sure… Bangarang weren't the best, but they did pretty good with how they were small fish in a big pond. Maria not only implying they were bad, but using that as a means to also throw shade at Thorn, who was awesome, and Rose, who was a bombshell. That was more than enough to dash her earlier intentions of not making this into an altercation.

"Lyla and Ellie, Bangarang. That's us, we've got names." Much of the lighthearted bantering tone she had when talking with specifically Maria, had fallen away leaving it very clear she was putting something down right now that should be listened to. Leaning away from the wall she came to step up to the goddess and her worshippers, no longer giving them the courtesy of being able to get by down the hall even if they had wanted.

She hadn't joined in the laughter, eyes darting between them all as she tried to get the joke. Her annoyance was apparent, practically sitting on her shoulder for all to see. She was tense, fists balled and ready for a fight. Slamming shots all night had, unsurprising, left her tolerance to things relatively low. This is why she generally didn't go out drinking on her own.

"Quite the upgrade, an Angel to a Goddess. Some real blasphemous shit right there. I don't take lessons from cunts. So you can shove that private lesson up your arse and I'll counter offer with a public beating if you don't piss off with your little leashed parrots here." And there it was, her mind in the sand. A loud declaration that even caught the afternoon of others nearby over the thrum of music and conversation. People were watching now and only one of them had a reputation to uphold. Lyla gave a cocky upnod to Maria, raising her bloodied hand to click a small shooing gesture to her.

Maria might have been content to simply walk away and leave Lyla be. It had been something of a taxing day, trying to negotiate with one of the AFW’s rival federations to get on their roster, and she’d only come here to blow off some steam on one of her slaves. Tonight had been all about stress relief, and here was more stress, finding its way right to her.

But now that this little tart was barking her way and drawing attention, that was becoming less of a possibility. She did have a reputation here, after all, and with her slaves present, there was an image to uphold. She stepped forward, ushering her slaves out of the way as she approached.  ”If you don’t want the private lesson, I’ll happily give you a public one, right here and-”

”Three minutes.” Thorn cut her way through the crowd with Velma behind her, most of the patrons knowing good and well to give her a wide berth as she moved in, focused on Lyla. ”Was gone for three minutes. Four tops, and you couldn’t sit still.” There was some minor irritation in Thorn’s tone, but she was more amused than anything, with a dash of relief at finding her ‘date’. She’d figured Lya would be wherever there was a crowd gathering, and sure enough, there she was.

”You need to put your bitch on a leash, Jack.” Maria snorted and wagged a finger their way. ”If she doesn’t watch out, she’s going to get put down.”

If Maria had been expecting Thorn to take that seriously, she was in for disappointment - all she got was a snorting laugh and a nod back at Lyla. ”She’d drop your flat ass, Crawford. And it’s Thorn during work hours, stop doing that.” She folded her arms and looked back to the lass. ”You two sparking off? She already brag on how she used to fight Mighty Yukiko?”

Lyla was more than happy to step up to Maria, pressing herself up against the other woman in a show of drunken machismo, daring the other woman to make good on her world and hit her. She wanted it so bad, that small bit of justification she could use to start throwing hands. One fight had been fine for the evening but two was seeming far better.

It had been Thorn's voice that ripped her out of the moment and out everything back into perspective. She was about to throw down her at the Australian's place of work. She could have possibly be arrested or at the very least banned from the premise… though she doubted Rose would do something like that unless the damages had been extreme… but how much did she really know the redhead really? Lyla leaned back onto the heels of her boots, being the first of the two to back down with a small step away.

"You were slow." The Irish lass offered quietly as her only explanation, though her eyes were still deadlocked with Maria, unwilling to be the only one to back down in this heated moment. It wasn't her fault that she got bored and started wandering off immediately.  While the exchange between the other two women was short, it got a small mused smirk out of her. It wasn't really that Maria had said anything outwardly funny but within the context of what was floating through Lyla's head the thought of being a rabid dog seemed oddly fitting.

"Yeah. Didn't mention beating her or nothing. Just threw some names." It was nice to know that this had been as common an occurrence as it was that Thorn knew immediately it had been a likely possibility. Maria was a woman clinging to glory days it seemed. Maybe that's how she had first gotten her following. The redhead seemed confident now though in her ability to fight her after the bit of encouraging praise from the Aussie. Not that she thought she would have lost… she just hadn't really concerned about the outcome.

"Just friendly banter between us gals." The situation seemed to be out on ice with a slow deescalation back to normalcy. Tensions and tempers had a way of running hot when egos were put in check and neither woman had seemed capable of backing down without outside intervention. So she Lyla decided in the pull of the argument to then throw a cheeky sucker punch right at Maria's face with every intention of battering her nose, it came as what might be considered controversial timing.  Maybe having the safety net of Thorn at her back wasn't the best thing for her life choices.