The Iron Maiden It was a middle size Midwest town that was once a jewel in the crown of the area. It was a steel town and places like that were like giants once upon a time. But the industry dried up. Jobs were lost and families left as the schools suffered and the crime rose. Agamemnon Onansi had seen far too many places suffer such a fate. The street lights danced off the shiny, black surface of the classic muscle car. Game enjoyed the feel of a far too powerful engine begging to be let loose at every light turning green. The moonlight rolled off of Onansi's brown skin. A few taps and the car was dialing one of his best friends -- Jay Washington. The line clicked. The dashboard showed the call established. "Aggy, what's good bro?" Agamemnon drove down the dark street that by day was full of businesses. Now, after hours, it was like a tour to another world. Inside the car, the man sighed. "No one calls me that but you, Wash..." Jay Washington was one of the few people alive that knew Agamemnon Onansi in his fullness. His past, his present and all the things in-between had been a relative open book to his friend. "That's what makes me special bro. What you up to?" "It's Monday, so..." Washington made a noise of sudden remembrance. It was clear in the high-end speaker system. "Oh shit, going to see your girl, huh?" Game rolled his eyes. "She's not my girl. And I only called for an update on the orphanage acquisition." "Riiight. Well, I'll be brief---" Onansi laughed to himself. "Next to impossible" "With your old ass," Wash snapped back with an audible grin, "The orphanage was bought this morning and is being remodeled. You, as always, remain an anonymous donor. The biggest donor they've ever had." "Thanks Wash. I appreciate it." "You know," Jay answered back. "I know you know how to do this all yourself." Agamemnon smiled sincerely. "Yeah but when you get to be my age, it's good to keep young people around." Wash laughed. "Hey, take care of yourself, brutha. Have a good night out there."
The Iron Maiden was a strip club set next to a highway in the middle of a town that was once a hub of business and steel production. Now, it suffered and, in some areas, more than others. The subtle neon glow of the sign and a medieval metal woman reflected on the windows of every car in the lot. Game pulled in and parked. Exiting the car, Onansi always paused to absorb the moment. He was a handsome man. He had eyes that told of seasoned living. With his caramel skin, athletic build and dark shirt and jeans, there was something about Agamemnon's style that was recognizable but unique, inviting but deflecting and always just a slight step outside the expected. Walking up to the Iron Maiden, Game could feel his pulse quicken. While any town had its share of bars and gentlemen's clubs, one would not have expected to encounter a dancer like the woman Onansi had met several months ago. She was unlike anyone he had ever met. Once inside, the lobby was seemingly covered in velvet from ceiling to floor. A monitor was on the left wall showing random sporting events while the majority of the room was dominated by the greeter and the desk he stood behind. He was a large man. He had light brown skin and jet-black hair with a scowl that every door man at a strip club absolutely had to have. Before he could speak with his trademark gruff voice, the door man recognized Agamemnon. His demeanor changed and he grinned from ear to ear. "Ohhh shit, Game!" Onansi smiled and exchanged a fist-bump, handshake finger-snap greeting with the man. "What's good, Jorge? How're your boys?" "Shit, same old, man. They're good. Both starting school in a few weeks. I wanted to say thank you for helping with their admission letters. How you been?" "Life is good, bro," Onansai answered back. "If you're doing it right..." Even through the sound-suppressing double-glass doors, the DJ's announcements and music could be heard. Jorge smiled and nodded. "I hear that. Here to see your girl, right?" Game laughed. "Everyone says that...I swear I don't---" "GAME ON!" Agamemnon turned to see Bobby, the manager of the Iron Maiden. Bobby had a thick mustache that he enjoyed styling differently almost every night. This evening, he wore it in a unique handlebar style. "Bobby!" Game said back over another street-level handshake. "What's going on, man?" the manager asked. Onansi shrugged. "Nothing much, same old same old." "Well, I know who can change that," Bobby replied. "She's here. Go on in." Tranquility The DJ filled the dark room with strip club music full of EDM, Trance, Techno, old school hip hop and other favorites that riled up the wants of the silhouetted men in velvet seats. The only lighting was the track system focusing on the three stages and the glow coming from the bar. Game had been in countless places such as the Iron Maiden. But each club, each bar, each spot had its own unique energy and the people were always unique. The usual crew were dancing this evening. There was the blonde with the obvious spray tan and implants. There were the two near look-a-likes that could grind rock to dust between them on stage. There was the curly redhead who was feisty and thin but sexual as hell when dancing on the right man. Other entertainers moved about the room while Game gave head nods and smiles on his route through to the bar. "Gaaame on..." Agamemnon had just received his drink from the bartender who enjoyed his snappy repartee and general kind disposition. Onansi knew the voice, smelled the perfume and felt the vibe in the air even before he turned around. He could not help but smile. Tranquility was her stage name but it did not fit. Nothing about the young woman made a man calm. As she told Game in one of their conversations, she was biracial, half Asian from her mother's side, white on her dad's. Her almond eyes drank the room with every glance. She had long brown hair that fell just above her waist and swayed with her every move. Her body was lean but curved. She had obvious implants, somewhere in the D cup size, but they complemented her body rather than make her look like a cartoon. She was lean but her muscles were hard and it was obvious she worked out like a demon. Last but not least, her long legs reached up and supported the most perfect of asses Agamemnon had ever seen. He could not even think of referring to her hind masterpiece as anything but "that ass." The men in the crowd would stop in mid-speech whenever Tranquility switched her hips and ass moving between rows, taking man after man in the back for a VIP dance. Her backside was firm but had enough bounce and jiggle that it was every bit a peach. Tranquility was the highest earner at the club. Onansi had seen her dance and she was easily the best hands down. There was no show like watching the dancer take the stage. With the move and sway of a jungle cat, the embodiment of sex made her way over to the man. She reached out with both hands and embraced Game tightly. They held one another for a moment before finding a velvet couch in the back of the Iron Maiden. They ordered drinks. They both had a preference for tequila and she sat close enough that the smell of her high-priced perfume threatened to overtake Onansi. Tranquility, whose real name was Tara, had a power over the man that he would begrudgingly admit but accepted. She sat next to him but threw her legs over his in a move that was both a sexual connection and a dominating statement. Other dancers -- from the one with the humongous breasts to the one with the biggest ass all stayed away from Agamemnon when Tranquility was working. "You look good," Agamemnon said. "Thanks baby," Tranquility answered. She stroked the perfect partial goatee on his face. "You look good all the time. Buff and all sexy..." Onansi grinned and shrugged. "It's all padding and good lighting." The dancer ran her hands across Game's torso. She always made sure to maintain physical contact whenever they sat on a couch or stood at the bar. Onansi could feel his pulse quick every time. Tara laughed. "Well I have good news kinda...they're debating offering me or two other girls the chance to manage a new club but I don't know. I might get a chance to go to school and finally finish my degree..." "That's awesome..." As Game talked, Tranquility made sure to lean forward and keep giving the man a view of her tight, deep cleavage. The overhead lights reflected on her skin and the sequins on her bra and thong. "Hey I have one other dance..." She touched his face. "But I do have time for a quick fifteen minutes..." Agamemnon smiled. "Normally we do a verbal dance about I don't know and then I'll think about it but we both know I'll give in...but since time is tight..." The stripper rose up, she poked her ass out and shook it for Game's view. He stood up smoothly behind her. She made sure to brush his clearly aroused groin with her thick hips. Taking the man by the hand, the short, curvaceous dancer headed back to the VIP area.
To the VIP rooms they went. The security guards nodded in recognition of Game On's presence. The curtain closed to one of the VIP rooms as soon as Game and Tranquility entered it. Without a moment passing, the two embraced one another with a deeper sense of privacy, adoration and desire. "Hmmmm," Tranquility began, "I missed you, baby." "I missed you too." The dancer pushed Game back onto the lone chair in the room. She danced a bit in front of him. He marveled at her body. After bending over, she snapped up, spun and unhooked her bra and threw it at him. Game laughed as the bra partially looped around his head. She had on pasties but removed them for him, her favorite regular. She moaned as he held her with a strong hand between her shoulder blades. He sucked on her nipples, normally not allowed in the Iron Maiden but in the dark room, between two people, rules were agreed upon and enjoyed. Her high heels clicked on the dark floor. Tranquility groped the shaft of Game's penis through his jeans. He shuddered and smiled. This was one of her specialties. It was possibly their second dance together only a month ago that set this level of intimacy. Something about the man made him more than just a customer. Something about the woman made her more than just a dancer. Agamemnon rose up and Tara put her right leg up on the chair. The carpeted wall caught her as she slammed forward gently but with a determined force. She grinned, imaging what actual sex would be like with Game. No, she did not think about sex with him. She thought about fucking him. Game thrust his hard cock against the young woman's crotch. "...hmmm baby.... yeah..." Onansi continued to hump the dancer. She ran her nails down inside his shirt and across his bare skin. "You like that?" "Uh-huh..." Her nipples hardened. She felt her crotch getting hot and wet. "Gimme that big ass dick---" Tranquility turned and jutted her ass out. Game spanked her, grabbed her by the hips and began ramming into her again. Even with his jeans still on, Tranquility could feel his swell against her tight vagina. Tara didn't stand for other clients. She certainly did not take such sensual moments with anyone but Agamemnon. She reached back and held the back of his neck. He was strong and so was she. Together, they were pushing and pulling each other in a dance that would lead to gasping and wetness. "TRANQUILITY TO THE CHAMPAGNE ROOM." The announcement came through the overhead paging system. Time was up. The two stopped. Slowed down and breathed into one another's faces. Agamemnon came as close as he could, inviting the woman into a kiss. He had done it before but she had never fulfilled the offer. Agamemnon smiled. The two of them both hot to the touch and sweaty. "Ungh, shit, okay, wait for me okay? Let me get this dance over. It was pre-requested. This guy gives me the creeps." Agamemnon narrowed his gaze and looked the dancer in her eyes. "One night...let me take you out for dinner or breakfast.... I won't try anything..." "Then what would be the point in going out..." Game leaned in on the young woman. "So, we're finally there?" Tara aka Tranquility smiled wide. After giving Game a kiss on the cheek, the dancer walked away. She never did give into the temptation to press her lips to his. But tempted the woman was. Back out in the common room, Onansi smiled as he ordered another shot of tequila. Truth be told, given what he was, Game could not get drunk. And that made for pricey nights of tabs but memories that he kept forever. And right now, this moment - the perfume, the aroma of Tara or Tranquility, still lingered on his clothes and in his mind. Let you in on a Secret Game sat on a carpeted, maroon couch sipping tequila. He had talked with a few dancers, even gotten a dance or two to be polite. Yet his mind raced back to the first night he met Tranquility. Agamemnon Onansi had mastered the art of blending to the point of almost being invisible. He remembered seeing the exotic woman walk into the room. There was something in her long-legged strut that shouted she was an apex predator in the room. Of every man she approached, almost every single one fell to her wiles. Then she looked and smiled and saw Game. No one had noticed him but her. She was special.
Tonight, he was waiting. She had a champagne room set to finish and then he would horde her attention all night. Paying for a full night was not an issue at all. Agamemnon was beyond sufficiently wealthy and as for waiting, what was time to him? Suddenly, he felt it. Agamemnon had a sense for danger. They felt like pinpoints of nausea that gave a dull and very direct pang. He rose quickly from the velvet seat and moved to the champagne room. Security went to stop him but he moved fast, side-stepping a bouncer that did not know him. Blocking a few grasps from another. He made his way to the negative emotions and threw the curtain back. Tranquility was on the ground, groggy from an obvious shove against the wall. A short, fat man that had pre-ordered the dance was standing over her with an elegant and aged-looking knife in one hand while attempting to undo his pants. "GET OUT OF HERE!" the man shouted nervously and angry. Agamemnon moved in a swift blur of thought and action. The man's hand was twisted and the knife fell out. Bones cracked and Game had his hand on the man's throat. Before Onansi could finish, bouncers filled the room and pulled the two apart. If Agamemnon had wanted to, he could have ended the stalker but he would have hurt the security guards in the process. He was anything if not patient.
Bobby and Jorge walked in and handed Agamemnon a beer. They had separated the two men and were holding the man who had attacked Tranquility elsewhere. The dancer was recuperating and Agamemnon Onansi was sitting in the club office. "She got hurt," the bearded man began, "Herbert Winkle. He's been in here before. He would only see Tranquility...Tara. He was weird but tonight, tonight he roughed her up. But you got to him before things got really bad." Game took a drink of the beer. "Is she okay?" "Shaky and we bandaged a cut on her hand but yeah. She's tough." Game nodded. "Let me see her real quick please? And then...let him go. Keep his car. I'll have it taken care of. But let him go. Out back." Bobby laughed a bit as did Jorge. Agamemnon kept his smile. He reached in his pocket and laid a stack of money on the table. He took a long pull of the beer bottle, completing it smoothly. When he was done, he smiled at the manager. "Let him go." Bobby nodded.
Tara had a coat around her shoulders. Several of her fellow entertainers had surrounded her in comfort. She held a familiar drink in her hands for calming. One of her hands was bandaged obviously from Winkle's blade and attack. "Hey sunshine..." She looked up to see Agamemnon standing in the door frame of the locker room. The dancer's almond eyes lit up. She was wiping tears from them after the attack. "Game..." The other entertainers walked out to let the two talk. Game knelt down and looked Tranquility in the eyes. "Hey you." For a moment, he could not help but steal a glance at her heaving breasts and long legs. "Rough night?" "Yeah..." "How're you doing?" "I'm...I'm okay..." The woman was obviously putting up a brave front. Her hands were trembling. More tequila was ending up on the locker room floor than in her mouth. Onansi reached up and stilled her hand. "The man who attacked you. I need you to know that he'll never bother you again. And then I need you to know that I will take you to dinner tonight. Give me forty minutes." "But I can't...I'm still on the clock...I haven't reached my goal---" Agamemnon reached into his pockets again and retrieved the skull-faced money clip. From it, he retrieved an approximate several thousand dollars. "You've met the goal. I'll be right back."
Behind the Iron Maiden, the grassy, open field swished under Herbert Winkle's quickened escape. The short, round man did his best to run but at best he was panting and galloping. He did not know why he was let go but something told Winkle he was being hunted. "Mr. Winkle---!" he heard from behind him. Herbert's arms flailed as he ran. The knife hilt rubbed up against his belly. He had wanted so to stick himself inside Tranquility. He knew for sure that she knew his love, his thoughts. Then he would have ended them both. "Ohhhh Winkle---" the calling was sing-songy and mocking. Whoever was following him was close. Herbert could feel them. He pulled the knife loose. "Get away from me!" Winkle spun and drove the knife directly into the well-dressed Agamemnon Onasai's chest. The stabbed man fell to his knees. A death blow ending his pursuit. Winkle breathed heavy. "Fuck fuck fuck....!" He spun and began to run. He made it about thirty yards when something tripped him and sent him hurling to the ground. Herbert Winkle looked up to see Game On standing over him. The blade still in his chest. Winkle pissed himself. "What---!?!?! HOW---?!?!" Game sighed. "I'm going to let you in on a secret..." He slid the blade out of his chest. "I'm immortal." The man began screaming. In the open field next to the highway, no one could hear his pleas. "HELP ME! HELP ME!" "Oh! Oh! Now you want help??? You didn't want help when you were hurting Tranquility." Game slapped Herbert repeatedly. "Get your bitch ass up, Winkle." Agamemnon looked at his watch. Herbert cried as Onansi grabbed one of his pleading hands. "This knife. It's a replica of an Asian dagger. I know, I was there when they made the first of these. Shit, that's going back...hmmm Bronze Age? Now, it was the right hand you used to push Tranquility, right?" Game stabbed the man in the hand with the same knife. Winkle screamed out. The nearby highway's constant drone of trucks and cars drowned out his cries. Game exhaled. "Time can be a double-edge sword, Herbert. When you're with a beautiful woman, it's amazing, but it runs out like sand through the hourglass. When you've got a knife stuck in your hand...well, it feels like forever. I've got forty-five minutes before the Iron Maiden closes. That gives us about fifteen minutes to play." Winkle pissed himself again and cried out. The immortal knelt down and looked the short, round man in his eyes. "Hey, hey.... shh.... I'm just going to hurt you a little bit more..." Herbert paused as if hopeful. "And then...I'm going to kill you." Game lunged onto the man. There was a short scream.r"