{"id":946,"date":"2012-03-12T16:14:24","date_gmt":"2012-03-12T23:14:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.nobiliserotica.com\/site\/?p=946"},"modified":"2012-03-12T16:18:25","modified_gmt":"2012-03-12T23:18:25","slug":"circlet-press-poll","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/2012\/circlet-press-poll\/","title":{"rendered":"Circlet Press Poll"},"content":{"rendered":"

There’s a new poll up on the Circlet Press website to pick the best stories from their digital catalogue.<\/a> \u00a0One of my stories, “Concerto for X-rays and Visible Light” is listed on the poll, and I’d love for you to give it a vote.<\/p>\n

Here’s an excerpt:<\/p>\n

Garrison works for a government agency, monitoring cameras that can see through the clothes of people using various forms of public transportation. He’s arranged to meet some of his coworkers at a club downtown…<\/p>\n

By the time he arrived at the club, the sun was well behind the buildings, leaving the streets in shadow while the upper reaches glowed. The entrance to the club was a riot of swirling neon. A large bald man smiled as he approached. “Welcome to the Panopticon.”<\/p>\n

“Thanks.”
\nNot entirely sure of himself, Garrison walked past him and pulled open the wide black door of the establishment. The space beyond was dark, and even after the shade of the street outside, he had to take a moment for his eyes to adjust.
\nA pretty woman in a bikini top stood behind a small counter to one side. “Twenty dollar cover charge,” she said. Jazzy, upbeat music pulsed behind the walls.
\nHe pulled out his debit card and touched it to the green payspot. A beep registered the transaction, with the amount showing on a nearby display. “I’m looking for a group? My friends from work said they were coming down here.”
\nShe shrugged. “I just take the money, sir.”
\n“Okay, I’ll just…mm. Look around, I guess?”
\n“Have fun!” She gave him a wide grin, and then turned her attention to the customer coming in behind him.
\nGarrison turned a corner into the club itself. Everything was dark except for the stage, a circular platform in the middle of the room raised to about table height, connected to the back wall by a narrow catwalk. A woman writhed and contorted herself on the pole, her body shimmering under the diffuse pink lights that came at her from every angle.
\nStepping inside further, past a very large bald-headed man whose fists appeared to be superglued to the insides of his elbows, he spotted a bar running along the wall to his right. There were no stools there. It looked like it was just a place to pick up drinks.
\n“Can I get you anything?” said the bartender.
\n“Uh, yeah. Scotch please. Neat.”
\n“Coming right up.” A payspot on the bar lit up, and Garrison touched his card to it.
\nHe sipped his drink as he wandered around the room, listening for the voices of his coworkers, trying to see a familiar face in the shadows and silhouettes that surrounded him. It was almost impossible to see anything but the stage. He was about to give up when the music changed, and a deejay’s voice came over the speeakers. “Big round of applause for the lovely Jayelle Kaye!” The woman on the stage scooped up her clothes and strutted down the catwalk towards a set of curtains along the back wall.
\n“And now,” said the voice, “For your ecdysiastic enjoyment, the wonderful, the talented, miss Wyenne Ess!”
\nAnother woman stepped out onto the catwalk. She looked vaguely familiar, but Garrison couldn’t figure how anyone he knew would be dancing here. He walked closer.
\nShe had dark black hair and pale skin, and wore a red sequined outfit consisting of a halter top and a skirt, both held together with long ribbons. He felt sure he had seen her face before, but couldn’t place it. He found himself bumping into an empty stool at the edge of the stage.
\n“Hi there,” she said, giving him a wink and a flash of a smile.
\nThat took him back a step. Nobody had ever addressed him from a stage before.
\n“Sit down. I won’t bite.” She pulled out the knot in her skirt and held the ribbons out, making the skirt slide around her as she moved. The long slit between the two ends revealed brief glimpses of thigh.
\nIn something of a daze, he sat. There was a payspot on the stage in front of him. He stared at it. It was labeled “Please tip generously” along the top and “One dollar per scan” along the bottom.
\nShe was swaying to the music, strutting around the pole, making eye contact with the men around the stage one by one, but her attention lingered on Garrison. “First time?” she asked.
\n“Yeah.”
\nShe giggled. “Oh, I do<\/em> love a virgin.”
\nGarrison blushed. The guy next to him elbowed him in the ribs. “Go on.”
\nHe pulled out his debit card and waved it over the payspot. It flashed twice.
\nShe smiled broader. “Thank you, sugar!” She dropped the skirt a bit, showing off the round globes of her ass, and the thin red g-string running between them.
\n“You’re welcome.” That was what you said when someone said ‘thank you.’ That was only polite. Right? Garrison felt uncomfortably out of his element. Ordinarily that feeling would have been more than enough reason to leave, but he knew this woman from somewhere, and he wanted to figure out where that was.
\nThe woman wasn’t really dancing, not in any way Garrison had ever heard of. She was just moving, with the pole as a prop and the music as a context. Even so, there was something hypnotic about her, and Garrison felt his gaze drawn to her hands as she reached behind her neck to pull out the knot. She held the ribbons out and above her head, playing with them, making her full breasts move like puppets on single strings.
\nGarrison had completely forgotten about his coworkers, and he didn’t care. His world had narrowed to the woman in front of him, lowering the shiny triangular fabric in front of her breasts. Soon there was only the wide ribbon covering her nipples, revealing curves and shades he had never noticed before.
\nWith a snap of her wrists, the dancer’s halter seemed to disappear, suddenly transformed into a shower of red confetti, and she was dancing in nothing but the glittering red g-string. The music changed to an uptempo song with lots of synthesized rhythm. She moved energetically, swinging around the pole and doing splits and stretches that showed off her flexible physique. Garrison found his pants getting more than a bit tighter and shifted around to try to find a bit more room.
\nThere were several flashes from around the stage as the other spectators swiped their debit cards over their payspots. The dancer smiled at each one, and Garrison found himself succumbing to the temptation to earn his own smile as well.
\nNow he knew what Lance had been talking about. This was<\/em> fun.
\nThe music changed again, a new song with a slower beat, with an energy that felt more intense than frenetic. The dancer sank to the stage practically right in front of him and slowly undid the knots on her g-string. She had almost no pubic hair at all, and Garrison found himself close enough to count the few strands that made up the narrow strip running from just above her slit.
\nHer inner lips poked out just the slightest bit, but as she swung one leg in a big circle, her labia parted and for a second or so he could see absolutely everything. No longer using the pole, the dancer prowled around the edge of the stage, gracefully and acrobatically giving each of the close-in audience members a good view of the most intimate parts of her body.
\nThe tips came quickly, flashing from each station. Garrison found himself competing to tip her more than anyone else, and she gave him the lion’s share of the attention in return. He thought he could almost smell the distinct musk of female arousal, as she arched her back on hands and knees, thighs spread out before him. Was this actually turning her on? Was there more than money going on here? Garrison couldn’t imagine flattering himself that it was true, but he could see wetness glistening on her otherwise clean pussy, and what else was he to think?
\nWhen the music ended, she rose, gathered her things and disappeared backstage. Garrison finished his drink and decided he needed another. He made his way back to the bar, keeping his gaze turned away from the stage in hopes that his rather painful erection would subside.
\nJust as it arrived in front of him, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Buy a girl a drink?”
\nHe started, almost spilling his drink, and turned.
\n“Oh, sorry,” she said. She was wearing a loose-fitting white blouse with a plunging neckline that showed off her magnificent cleavage, and a matching knee-length skirt.
\n“No, no…it’s fine, sure, what would you like?”
\nThe dancer nodded to the bartender. “The usual, Hank?” She moved in next to him, elbow on the bar, standing a little too close.
\nHe took a gulp of his drink. “That was some performance…uh…I didn’t catch your name, I’m sorry.”
\n“That’s okay, you’ve got something else on your mind, I bet.”
\n“Uh…yeah.” He smiled sheepishly.
\nHer drink arrived, something pink and fizzy, and she took a long sip looking over the rim of the glass, staring into his eyes. “My name’s Wyenne. I’m glad you enjoyed it. Nice to meet you…?”
\n“Garrison. Garrison…um.” He wasn’t sure whether he should use his last name. He wasn’t sure he should use his first name, either, but it was too late to take it back. “I was supposed to meet some friends. This isn’t the kind of place I usually go to. I didn’t think it would be something I’d like.” He was talking too fast, he realized, sounding like a nervous kid. He coughed to hide his embarrassment.
\n“Well, Garrison…maybe you’d like to take it a little further?”
\nGarrison stammered. “W-w-what?”
\n“A private dance, in the VIP room.” She glanced in the direction of a door on the far side of the room. “I promise a very intense experience.”
\nGarrison’s imagination flared. What was she offering? What could be more intense than what he had already seen? Was she a prostitute? What would happen if he were caught? Would he lose his clearance? Lose his job? He took another draw on his scotch and found the ice bumping his nose.
\nWyenne put her hand on his elbow. “Come on. It’ll be fun. I promise.” She led him to the door, and pointed to the payspot next to the handle. “Fifty dollars gets you a tour of paradise.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

There’s a new poll up on the Circlet Press website to pick the best stories from their digital catalogue. \u00a0One of my stories, “Concerto for X-rays and Visible Light” is listed on the poll, and I’d love for you to give it a vote. Here’s an excerpt:<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-946","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-update"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/946","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=946"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/946\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":947,"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/946\/revisions\/947"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=946"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=946"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/nobiliserotica.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=946"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}