This deviation has been labeled as containing themes not suitable for all deviants.
Log in to view

Deviation Actions

Dangerguy01's avatar

Dancing in the Dark

By
Published:
4.6K Views

Description

Dead ends.

En-Trance hated them. Especially when lives were at stake.

The Shadow Siren's investigation into several missing young women had hit just such a roadblock. No further clues could be found and none of her usual underworld sources provided any information.

The young superheroine had her suspicions, though. A new strip club named "Hot Rod's" had opened up on the seedy side of town recently. It had quickly gained a reputation for offering fresh young talent. Coincidence? En-Trance didn't think so. She had decided to investigate the place.

She first considered waltzing in wearing her revealing (and intentionally distracting) costume and confronting the low-lifes who ran the joint. But she had resolved, after a shaky start to her superheroine career, to act with more foresight and consideration. She had never been inside Hot Rod's—obviously—and didn't know what to expect. She realized that this was enemy territory she had to reconnoitre before engaging in battle.

With that realization came a plan.

Instead of barging into the strip club as a cocky superheroine, she resolved to go there undercover. En-Trance adopted a civilian identity, changing her hair colour from its distinctive red-and-purple hue to a darker red. She went to Hot Rod's to apply for a job. To her complete lack of surprise they hired her to be a dancer immediately. With her looks and body, she'd thought smugly, they'd be fools not to. The manager had taken her into the change rooms and she had selected a costume and with it a stage identity: she would headline as "Suzie Schoolgirl". The Manager had approved heartily, mentioning that the club's owner would also approve of her choice. She had not met the owner, who the manager only referred to occasionally, and with respect... even, perhaps, a touch of fear. Interesting.

En-Trance had no intention of performing as a stripper, of course; she just wanted to gain entry to the club to snoop around. On the night of her first performance she discovered that she was kept apart from several of the other dancers, which aroused her suspicions; could they be the missing girls? She had time before she was scheduled to perform, so she slipped away to investigate.

There was another dressing room guarded by a heavy-set bouncer. She walked by the man, who watched her with suspicion, as if she was heading for the john. Instead she took a turn down a hallway and up a flight of stairs. Before long she found the owner's office. She felt a thrill when she realized the dark, dingy room was abandoned. Perfect. She crept in and immediately went to work, examining the drawers in the office's lone desk. She found little of value until she belatedly glanced at the top of the desk. She spotted some papers laying there with what looked like contact information.

"Hiding in plain sight," En-Trance muttered with a rueful smile and shake of her head. Everything's always in the last place you look...

She moved around the desk, turning on its lamp to examine the information more closely. She did indeed find contact names, numbers, addresses, and e-mails on the sheets of paper, all of them international: Russian, Middle Eastern, and Asian names dominated. She silently wished she'd brought along a James Bond-type micro camera. She settled for committing the contact information to memory. Thus absorbed in her work, she failed to hear the nearly-silent approach of feet clad in soft-soled shoes.

"Well well, what have we here?"

En-Trance gasped and began to turn. At the same time her battle instincts kicked in. Her body prepared for a fight, already moving into a defensive stance, and words that would oblige her opponent to obey her spoken commands formed in her mind...

Freeze.

She didn't hear the word spoken aloud, nor as a telepathic command. But she felt its effect immediately. Her body became utterly still, her right leg even stopping in mid-air as it moved into a combative pivot that would allow her to face her enemy. Worst of all, she couldn't speak. She couldn't speak! She couldn't use her siren power on her still-unseen adversary.

She heard the office door close. Slowly, confidently, his soft-soled footfalls approached the frozen heroine. His pace was uneven; he walked with a limp, she discerned. She still couldn't see him. He was sadistically stretching out the moment, relishing her fear like a man savouring the bouquet of a fine wine. She felt his fingertips graze over her backside beneath her short skirt and she would have gasped and jumped had she been able.

Apparently he had enjoyed her lingering moment of trepidation enough. He limped around in front of her. She saw a tall, well-built man with short brown hair gelled into a spiky 'do move behind the desk and sit in its chair. His face was strong and handsome beneath dark heavy brows. But his thin lips, curled into a smug grin, and his cold, dark eyes bespoke of his utter lack of mercy. Had En-Trance been able to move she would have had to suppress a shudder.

"Hi, I'm David," he said casually as he poured some whisky from the bottle of Jack Daniel's atop the desk into a glass. "But I prefer to go by 'The Motormaster'. See, I started out as a car thief, but then I gained the ability to control another person's motor functions. As you've just discovered. Stand up straight and let's have a good look at you." En-Trance obeyed; his power meant she had no choice. She stood ram-rod straight before him, her arms hanging uselessly at her sides, her breasts thrust forward behind their meagre cover. "Mmm. I can see why Tom hired you on the spot, no questions asked, toots," the Motormaster said. He took a sip of whisky. Then he let out a melancholy sigh. "It never fails, y'know. I left High Plains 'cause, well, let's just say an ill wind blew me outta town. I set up a nice tidy little operation somewhere new, and what happens? Some snoopy do-gooder has to poke her big tits where they don't belong."

He stared at her long and hard while En-Trance stood, utterly still and helpless before him. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

"I suppose the logical thing to do at this point is to find out who you are, what you're doing here, yadda yadda yadda..." he said with an impatient wave of his free hand.

Yes oh God yes question me! En-Trance silently pleaded. If she could just speak, she'd be able to use her own superpower, make him obey her commands, and find a way out of this mess...

"...but to be honest, I don't give a shit," he said. The young heroine's heart sank. "Dunno if you noticed, toots, but they're putting in a new office block across the street." He took another sip of his drink and let out a satisfied exhalation. "By this time tomorrow, you'll be a permanent part of its foundation. But first..." He paused as his eyes took a lingering, lusty tour of her curvaceous, scantily-clad body. One side of his mouth curled up into a lusty grin. "Oh, yeah. First, you're gonna give me a lap dance, beautiful. And that's just for starters..."

Dance.

Again she felt the unspoken command rather than hearing it. En-Trance began to move, though not of her own accord. She sauntered slowly around the desk, swaying her hips seductively. She placed her hands on her thighs then drew them upward over her waist and her taut tummy, heading toward the slender knot of fabric holding her skimpy top closed. The Motormaster pushed his chair out from the desk, the better to ensure her access so she could to grind her toned body atop his lap. She looked at him anxiously and saw a large, tell-tale bulge pressing against the crotch of his pants.

She had barely begun to dance but she could already feel sweat trickling down her back.

How the hell am I going to get myself out of this?!?

---------------------------------------------------------------

This is my entry into :icondevduck01:'s "En-Trance Undercover" contest. In some ways her "siren" power and the Motormaster's ability to control another person's body are kind of bizarre reflections of each other, so I thought it would be interesting for them to meet.

A shout-out to :iconshadowhawkone: for sharing some morphs so I could make one of my models more closely resemble En-Trance/Maija. Of course, En-Trance also has the ability to alter her facial structure at will, so if she doesn't quite look like how other artists have depicted her, uh, yeah, that's it, she changed her facial structure. That's the ticket...

Shadowhawk also gets a tip o' the ol' Danger Cap for suggesting some new lighting tools. I lit this scene using some mesh lights rather than the standard Daz lights. Maybe some of you can't see much difference, but I can. I wouldn't say they're better or worse, but definitely different and very handy for internal, diffuse lighting.
Image size
2560x1440px 3.36 MB
Mature
© 2017 - 2024 Dangerguy01
Comments31
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
LordLard's avatar
Splendid work, but as it's an entry for :icondevduck01:, I fear things won't work out as they should...