In The Spotlight - Backstage

Story by DekaFox on SoFurry

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#2 of In The Spotlight

Here we see the other side of Sasha's... interesting... night at the club.


Many guys would kill for a job like mine. In their minds, they imagine themselves standing guard over a bevy of lustful, naked women, begging to be used. They'd be in for a rude awakening.

Me? I've learned better. Out there, on the stage, it's like Wonderland. Your wildest fantasies, on parade for you and anyone else who can afford the cover charge. Women, and sometimes men, of all shapes and sizes, flaunting their bodies for the entertainment of the crowd. But once they step off that stage, it's back to the same dreary reality we all have to deal with. Bills to pay, mouths to feed, all the usual crap.

As for me, I'm just a college student working security for a strip joint to get a bit of spending money. I've seen them come, and I've seen them go, and I've seen how much of an act it is. I've seen girls barely out of high school, and mothers looking to earn a few extra bucks for a kid's toy come Christmastime. When they step on that stage, it's like they become totally different people, but the mask falls as soon as the lights go out.

Originally, I was hired for backstage work. Maintenance on equipment and sets, you know, that sort of thing. Then one night, we had a drunken porcupine go down the wrong hallway looking for the restroom and stumble into one of the girls on her way back to the dressing room. Stupid fucker wouldn't take no for an answer, and luckily I happened to be nearby.

I used to do sports back in high school, and so far I've still managed to keep my muscle tone. And well, when you see a roaring tiger with bared fangs and claws bearing down at you, you change your tune pretty quick. After that, I got a pay raise and added security duties. I don't mind really, as it beats any other job I'd be able to find at this time of night. A lot of guys would also call getting to watch the shows for free a perk as well. That, I can't say I disagree on.

A couple of the girls actually tried to get me to sign up for my own show as well. I don't know why, as I'm not really special-looking. I am a bit tall, at around six foot, but that's not that uncommon for us tigers. I've got plain black hair, cut short around orange-furred ears, and golden eyes that shine if the light hits them just right. Most of the rest of me, from pink nosetip to waving tailtip is the usual orange fur, with black stripes. There is a white patch that starts on my muzzle and goes down over my pecs and abs, still retaining their definition thanks to having to move all this heavy equipment around behind the stage. It reaches down to cover my sheath as well, and while I have to admit I'm kind of proud of that piece of male equipment, what guy isn't?

I've seen the way a few of the showgirls look at me though, when they think I'm not looking. They don't see a ordinary tiger guy just working a job, they see a slab of meat for the taking. After a couple of them tried to approach me about a quick fuck after-hours, I started just leaving as soon as the place closed. I know a lot of guys would have jumped at the chance. Heck, if I didn't know better I would have. But I've seen the masks they wear out on stage often enough that I recognized when it was being used on me.

There were a few that were different though; a few that were doing what they were doing because they enjoyed it, not because they were simply trying to get paid. Those shows are always a joy to watch, because they put their whole selves into it, though they're few and far between.

One of my favorites was a snow gryphon who'd just started recently. In her street clothes, you'd never be able to tell she worked at a place like this. Get her up on stage though, and she was like a different animal entirely. It was like the shy, reserved gryphon that the rest of the world saw was the mask, and the busty, sensual gryphon who played her body like a master musician played a Stradivarius was the real one.

She was on fire tonight, I couldn't help thinking as she wrapped up the act, her hips thrusting towards the roomful of people ogling her, as if their eyes were driving into her like a male's shaft. Licking my muzzle a little, I adjusted my pants yet again. She seemed even more worked up than usual tonight, and it was showing in the display she was putting on.

As the lights came back up, I tossed her a grin, giving her a thumbs-up as she slipped past the curtain. "Great job tonight, Sash," I said as I allowed myself to take a good look at the pretty femgryph. Sasha was about my age I think, but in this business you don't ask that sort of thing. Black-tipped white feathers covered her head and shoulders, fading to off-white fur just above her bustline. She had full, firm breasts, each a bit more than a pawful, and capped with a stiff pink nipple. Some guys prefer small ones you can cover with your whole hand, while others like huge ones that you can bury your face into. Me, I happen to like having that pawful to play with... or I would if I hadn't been dumped by my girlfriend a month back because she thought I was cheating on her.

"Thanks," Sasha said, running a hand through her headfeathers. I tried not to let my gaze wander lower, but I could smell how aroused she was from the show she'd just given, and I could feel my pants growing tighter in response.

"Don't mention it," I said with practiced smoothness, trying to stifle the urge to purr at the pretty femgryph as I smelled more of the heady scent of her need. "Pizza's already been ordered, if you're hungry. The driver said it'd be about a half-hour."

She nodded, thankfully not noticing the effect she was having on me. "Let me know when it arrives," she said, giving me a gentle smile with that flexible black beak of hers. "I'll be in my room."

As I watched her go, hips swaying and her soft white feline tail swishing behind her, I had a feeling she was going to be busy for a bit. It was one of the reasons we offered private rooms to the performers; so they could "calm themselves down" after the show if they felt the need. Or have visitors to do the same, for that matter.

Shrugging, I turned to head for the lounge, stepping carefully over the wires for the lights as I went in the back way. With the last show of the night over, the main hallway would be busy with performers heading to their rooms or leaving for the night to get some rest before their day jobs, and I didn't feel like trying to squeeze through it.

To my surprise, Mark was the only one in the lounge so far. He was a lion who I knew for a fact was a bodybuilder in his spare time, though the way he hefted the lighting assemblies would have given it away regardless. I tossed him a wave as I walked over to the fridge to get something to drink.

"Yo," he said, returning the wave. "So how goes life in the trenches?"

I chuckled as I popped open the can of cola, taking a swig before answering. "About the same. Few good shows, few bad shows, customers staying where they should. Kinda boring, in a good way."

Mark grinned at that, the lion taking a swig from something distinctly more alcoholic than my drink. "So, when you gonna ask that sweet little gryphoness out?"

I froze for a moment, before lifting the can to my muzzle to take another drink of the dark liquid. "What do you mean? You know I don't mix business and pleasure."

Mark grinned, making a gun shape with his hand and pretending to fire it at me. "Suuuuure you don't. Is there some other reason you always happen to be on shift when she's doing her little number?"

"That's just coincidence," I said, looking away. That was true, as far as it went, though ever since the breakup I had to admit I was finding myself looking forward to working the nights she was on.

The lion snorted, taking another swig of whatever beer he was sucking down tonight. "I've seen the way you two look at each other, man. Real shame if you ask me. Real shame."

I raised my head, narrowing my eyes at that. What did he mean, the way we look at each other? Brow furrowed in confusion, I opened my muzzle to ask, but closed it quickly as Jeanie, a slender but busty doe who had been the opening act tonight, poked her head in. "There's a pizza guy at the back door. Something about an extra-large meat-lover's and extra-large supreme?"

I nodded, my confusion at Mark's comment temporarily forgotten. "Yup, supper for us late workers. I'll handle it tonight." Setting the can of soda down, I headed out through the service entrance, grabbing the pizza fund's money clip off its hiding place as I went past.

After paying for the pizza and sending the delivery boy on his way, I carried it in while Mark got a table set up for the boxes. As people started to filter in, I realized I hadn't told Sasha yet that it was here.

"I'll be right back," I called to Mark as I headed down the surprisingly empty main hallway. Let's see.. Jeanie's... Marigold's... aha, this should be Sasha's.

My ears perked as muffled moans came from the other side of the door. I couldn't quite make it out, but it sounded like... no, it couldn't be. Giving the door a knock, I shouted "Pizza's here early, if you want some."

The loud moan that came from the other side of the door could only be one thing, and I felt an involuntary blush creeping up under my fur. A moment later, the next moan made my eyes widen in shock. She was not only bringing herself off, which I'd sort of expected after that performance, but she was moaning my name while doing it!

Swallowing heavily, I took a step back, my pants tighter than they'd been all night. "Uh, if you need anything else, let me know," I managed to call out as I backed away, then turned and strode down the hallway, trying not to run.

My mind was in a whirl as I re-entered the lounge, snatching my cola can off the table and taking a long swig of the drink, wishing it was something a bit more alcoholic. "You alright, dude?" Mark asked, tilting his head at me while popping open another fresh can of his beer.

I just shook my head. "I'm fine, just need to hit the bathroom. I'll be back in a bit," I responded as I tossed the now-empty can in the recycle tub and headed down the nearby service hallway at a fast walk. Rather than stopping at the bathrooms though, I continued on to the back exit to the parking lot. Maybe a night drive would help me clear my head, and get rid of the butterflies I'd apparently swallowed with the cola.

Sliding into my car, I rolled down the windows and made my way to the highway back to the school campus, letting the night air blow through my hair and facefur. There were no cops around and no other traffic, so I indulged in a little speeding, the feeling of the car thrumming under me taking my mind off my worries.

The sun was beginning to rise by the time I pulled into the parking lot in front of my apartment. So much for 'back in a bit,' I thought as I climbed up the stairs and unlocked my door. Stepping inside, I closed and locked it behind me while kicking off my shoes, then stripped off my shirt and stepped out of my pants as I made my way to my bed. My briefs followed as I half-fell/half-jumped onto the bed, letting it bounce under me a bit as I stretched out and got comfortable.

Closing my eyes, I let my mind roam back over the night's events. I had to admit I did think Sasha was attractive, and I could feel my sheath swelling a bit as I recalled the lovely gryphoness. Mark had been right about that much, and from what I'd heard, it seemed the thoughts were mutual as well. Yet, she'd never approached me in any way other than as a possible friend, though Mark had obviously been noticing some signs from her.

I couldn't help thinking that was a good sign; that unlike the other girls who'd come after me, she doesn't seem to be looking to just use me for my cock. Hell, I had a sneaking suspicion that was the reason my ex had left, since right before the breakup we'd been making love a lot less thanks to my job and conflicting schedules.

Still, Sasha is a dancer, and I am security. I knew it shouldn't make that big a difference, especially with how many times I've seen Mark going into various dancer's rooms for a "special massage" that I knew was anything but. Me, I'm a one-girl kind of guy, but he plays the field, and it hasn't seemed to affect his relationship with any one of them in the least. But I had a feeling if I tried getting together with that lovely snow gryphon, and it didn't work out, I'd definitely be trying to switch shifts.

Stifling a yawn, I snuggled into the bedcovers as I mulled the last bit over. I was seriously thinking of taking Mark's advice, wasn't I? Hell, for all I knew she had a boyfriend named Rob that I knew nothing about, and it was him she had been thinking of. Gods know I hadn't exactly been upfront about my own relationship status since I'd been working there. Maybe I was just getting all worked up over nothing...

Gradually, I could feel tiredness dragging me under, and I pushed aside my musings for tomorrow. Maybe sleep would give me a new perspective.

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As I opened my eyes, I found myself standing on the stage back at the club. What was I doing here? I looked around, but there was no one else out there, and the tables were all empty. Somehow, the curtain behind me had also been replaced with a wall, blocking off the stage.

Glancing down at myself, I noted with a sort of dull surprise that I was completely nude. Somehow, I knew this wasn't normal, but I also wasn't feeling the least bit worried for some reason. Then, a sudden trilling call diverted my attention.

As my head shot up, I saw Sasha, as naked as I was and every bit of the pretty snow gryphon's body visible, sliding down the dance pole as if it was a fireman's pole. At the sight of those firm, full breasts and wonderful curves I felt my sheath starting to fill, and it seemed she noticed as well, from the way she licked the edge of her beak. Slowly, she padded towards me, her hips swaying and long feline tail trailing her movements, and I found myself looking around for an escape.

I couldn't see any however, and a moment later I felt her slip her furred and scaled arms around me, pressing those nice pawfuls of titflesh on her chest against me as she ground her hips against mine, my swelling tigercock slipping out of my sheath in response.

"S-sasha," I managed to get out as she stared into my eyes, continuing that firm grinding of female gryphonsex against my white-furred tigersheath, "W-what are you-"

She cut me off with a kiss, her beak somehow melding to my muzzle and parting my lips with her pointed tongue. I could feel my shaft growing stiff, poking into her bellyfur as her tongue sought out mine and teased along it within my mouth, her feathered wings wrapping around us both as she rubbed her entire body up against my striped form.

As muzzle and beak parted, I found myself breathing heavier. "Sash... why-" but again she stopped my words, this time with a clawed finger over my lips, as she stepped back just enough to take my thick barbed shaft in her hand and give it a few strokes.

I couldn't help but ooh at that touch, feeling like butter in her paws as she dropped to her knees and cupped my white furry ballsack. Tenderly, she lapped at the swollen cockhead as she continued to gently stroke along the heated flesh, the small barbs on the sides brushing against the scales of her hand.

Reflexively, I rested my hands on Sasha's shoulders while the busty gryphoness took just the head of my throbbing tigercock into her beak, suckling gently as she teased her tonguetip along the underside of it. Soft purring moans echoed from my chest as she gently rolled my furry balls, the stroking of her other hand becoming more of a milking motion as my pleasure at her tender touches grew.

It didn't take much before that fleshy spire was dribbling my feline pre onto her tongue, a urge growing within me to thrust into that tenderly suckling beak. Somehow, almost as if she knew what I was thinking, she started to bob her head along that heated length of tigermeat, tongue dancing along the smooth underside of my feline cock as she took it into her warm, wet mouth.

Warm purrrmoans echoad across the empty stage as my grip on her shoulders tightened, my balls pulling up against her touch while she worked that massive shaft with her tender beak, drinking down my warm pre as she teased it so wonderfully. "Nnggg... gods... I think I'm.. gonna cum..." I moaned as I felt that familiar tensing, my body screaming for me to thrust that fat cocklength deep in her mouth, all my senses seeming to converge on that heat and wetness surrounding me.

As if that was what she'd been waiting for, Sasha quickly pulled off, replacing her heated mouth with a swiftly stroking hand and gently pulling that throbbing length down to aim it at those perky tits of hers. With a loud roar, I erupted in her grasp, the barbed shaft pulsing in her grasp as thick streamers of pearly tigercum shot out over the soft white expanses of her firm breasts. She licked her black beak as she watched the jets of rich tigercream arc out onto those full, ripe mounds of titflesh, the sticky stuff splashing hotly against her fur as she milked me for every drop.

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I shot up suddenly as the alarm next to my bed went off, the last few images of the dream still lingering in my mind as I looked down and saw the mess I'd made on the bed and my stomach. Gods, I hadn't had a dream like that since high school, let alone a wet dream!

Hitting the off button, I slid off the bed, my softening shaft already retreating into my sheath as I headed to the small attached bathroom with the intent to take a shower and wash the cum out of my fur before it dried. As I turned on the water to let it warm up, I leaned on the sink and stared at my own reflection, simply thinking.

One way or another, I was going to have to deal with this. As nice as the dream had been, it had only heightened the uncertainty crushing down on me. Sasha wouldn't be there tonight, but come Tuesday, I was going to have to try and catch her before the show and find out what she really thinks. If she is actually interested in me, or if it's just wishful thinking on my part. And hope she doesn't take it the wrong way and cost me my job.

With a sigh, I grabbed the washcloth and stepped into the the shower stall, letting the warm water cascade over me as I started to scrub. It was going to be a long few days.