terminated in a pole. Girls in snow-white lingerie that resembled bridal wear would appeared on the catwalk. As they danced, “the brides” parted with their inhibition and their clothes, which were evidently supposed to symbolize innocence. The simple conceit was aimed squarely below the belts of the male onlookers. By the end of the striptease, the former “prudes” were left with only their shoes, thongs and garters. At this point, the now “mature” women would descend and walk along the snug alcoves of the club’s floor, searching for a customer’s lap among the alcoves’ plush seats.
Alex sidled up to the bar and ordered a whiskey. It was a good thing that his general-father had outfitted him with money to carry on his search. The action around the pole was bedazzling. Having taken in several dances and three servings of booze, Alex recalled his reason for coming here in the first place.
The fingerless pimp! Where was that gimp, anyway?
There were no mangled hands to be seen along the bar, so Alex turned and began walking along the plush alcoves. The dim lighting concealed the customers’ faces, but thankfully current hairstyles prescribed short haircuts, whereas the pimp wore his long.
And there he was, a solitary figure with a shoulder-length mane sitting in a corner booth – and he had on a vest!
Alex bent down and coughed politely.
“Excuse me, you haven’t seen…”
A pendant with a guitar glinted on the man’s chest. The hand holding the glass looked more like a cleft claw, with a gap where the middle finger should have been.
Alex plunked down beside him.
“What’s up, Birdless. I’ve come here for you.”
“I don’t believe we’ve – » The pimp was peering into Alex’s face trying to remember him.
“Relax. My memory’s no good either anymore. But I do know one thing for certain. You’re going to give me Katya’s purse as well as the envelope.”
“What envelope?” the pimp tensed up.
“Well at least you didn’t ask who Katya was.” Alex grabbed Birdless’s balls and twisted his fist. “Your whore took an envelope that didn’t belong to her. You’re going to return it.”
“I don’t know a damn thing,” the pimp whimpered.
Alex tightened his grip.
“Hand over the envelope,” he whispered ominously, “or you’ll lose something a bit more vital than your middle finger.”
“I don’t have anything.”
“Why don’t you think a little harder. Maybe you’ll recall after all…”
“Yes, yes!” begged Boris.
Alex relaxed his hand.
“Where’s the envelope?”
“It’s downstairs. Hang on, I’ll go get it.”
The pimp signaled and a nude beauty appeared across from Alex. Spreading her legs, she straddled Alex’s knees; then, wrapping her fingers around his neck she began to gyrate her head and rear to the music’s rhythm. Startled, Alex found a pair of plump, stiff nipples tittering inches away from his lips. He wanted to bite them and, unwittingly, squeezed the dancer’s waist with his arms.
“You gotta pay extra for that, friend!” the girl warned.
Alex removed his hands and suddenly noticed that Boris had vanished.
“Where’d he go?”
“No third wheels. He ordered you a private dance, handsome.”
“Where’s Birdless?” Pushing away the stripper, Alex jumped up from the sofa.
“Easy!” the stripper became upset. “You won’t even thank me?”
Alex grasped her implication and stuck two thousand-ruble bills into the garter on the girl’s thigh.
“Where did Boris run off to?”
“He went downstairs, I think. We have a sauna down there.” The girl pointed and licked her finger suggestively with her extended tongue. “Wish I had someone with your energy – just maybe in a more capable body, bunny.”
Downstairs, Alex found himself in a lounge dimly illuminated in red light. A door led to a VIP-only sauna from which wafted the scent of dry lavender and music filled with female moans. Standing next to a small but well-stocked bar, a cute, plump girl in a skintight black leotard smiled at him politely. She was wearing riding boots, leather shorts and a vest that was doing its utmost to rein in the silicone implants struggling to get out.
“You are expected,” the little donut cooed through puffy lips, pouring a glass of champagne.
Alex thirstily gulped down the cold drink and opened the door to the indicated room. Here, he found two bronze-skinned girls in white bras and stockings, writhing alluringly from a giant bed with a coffee-colored cover. Various animal skins and rugs lay covering the floor. Like a cat, one of the bronze-skinned girls began crawling towards Alex. She rubbed herself playfully against his leg and began to unfasten his belt. As the female fingers slipped beneath his clothes, Alex’s breathing became halting. As if by miracle, the bachelor’s most improbable fantasies were coming true.
At this moment, something fell softly onto the bearskin rug. Terror distorted the girl’s dark face. Alex turned around and saw his fallen gun. Like a frothy wave against a cliff face, his reveries came shattering against reality.
Zipping his zipper, Alex darted out of the room and stuck his gun into the silicone implants of the donut in black.
“Where’s Birdless at? Start talking, bitch!”
“He ran out!” The girl glanced at the emergency exit at the end of the hallway.
“Did he tell you to distract me?”
“A customary surprise for our favorite customers.”
Enraged, Alex headed for the emergency exit. His mind was having difficulty coming to terms with the realities of living in the city. Everything here is so goddamn customary. He wished he could shoot holes in the girl’s over-inflated balloons and shout “Surprise!”
In the meantime, outside in the parking lot, Boris Manuylov had reached his white Honda. He plunked down behind the wheel and checked to see if the psycho from the club was still chasing him. Seeing no one, he took two deep breaths to calm himself and slid the key into the ignition. The psycho had been diverted, while he had managed to keep his envelope. It was time to get the hell out of dodge.
At this moment, a dark figure rose from behind the driver’s seat. A garrote fashioned from a rope slipped around the pimp’s throat and pulled tight, binding him tight to the headrest.
“Here we are then,” a sinister voice whispered in his ear.
13
Lisa
