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“Ready?"

“As much as I'll ever be."

Molly smiled at Rylan, who remained with her backstage while other dancers manned their posts. The time had come at last — her first dance. If she held any lingering doubts about the whole affair they were advised to hop it!

“You rehearsed well," the horse said, “and that costume is going to whip up a storm."

Molly's hands clutched her chest, and she glanced at what she was wearing. Several spot checks with Rylan gave her the 'okay', and she prepared with a couple of last-minute stretches. For a brief moment she closed her eyes, feeling the odd texture of her makeup. Special ink dyed in patterns around her eyes and neck. Vi had clearly spared no expense on her debut. Better live up to it!

She heard lights shut on and off, changing their arrangement. She pictured the backstage helpers rushing to-and-fro, setting up her lights — choosing the best colour to compliment her. She saw through the stage entrance the room darken. Its previous vibrant blue descended into a warm red, sinking even further to a deep mauve.

An announcer thundered 'cross the room, his voice powerful enough to cow those who were thinking of leaving early. “Ladies and gentlemen. Patrons of many species. Presenting our newest attraction..."

Molly took one last big breath.

“...a goddess of nature, a goddess of beauty..."

She took a step forward, closer to the stage entrance. Closer to view...

“...let her entrance you with her moves..."

Another hoof planted itself before its partner. Molly sped up her approach in time with the announcer's cadence.

“...and rock you to your core! Please welcome: the Lady...Venus!"

Cheers erupted from the crowd. Many had heard tell of a new beauty to grace the halls of Violetta. This week's grapevine had been a productive crop. Molly reached her mark and let the lights settle centre-stage.

Venus. It wasn't her only choice for a stage name, but she thought it was good enough to start with. They told her she could always pick another. New costume, new makeup, new theme — all that was needed to replace her character in the minds of the audience. They had huge wardrobes, enough to reinvent everyone who worked for the club twice over.

Right now Molly had other priorities.

* * *

To the audience, the room had grown a lot darker. Crimson...lust-themed. As the red shafts of light turned to purple, enveloping the stage in a regal hue, many were excited to see what came next. Approximately a third of the audience were human, either friends with hybrids or more than friends. A smattering were here out of sheer curiosity, taken captive by the exotic men and women on display. Another portion still were trying to keep a low profile, in case anyone recognised them. Hannah — one of the aptly-named 'Guard Dogs' — took pictures on the sly for leverage in case anyone caused them trouble once they were back among the rest of the world. Slightly illegal, for someone whose job it was to maintain order, but try telling that to her face...and those fangs of hers.

The rest were a menagerie of species, locals and out-of-towners who'd heard about this magical place. This club had earned its reputation among the adult entertainment industry — well-earned it, one might add! Now came the proof of its success. Several dancers had already sifted their way through the crowd, showing themselves off on tables and indulging patrons with up-close and personal stripteases. Plenty of drinks were served, and nobody had to be thrown out by the bouncers. Yet. The two Dobermann Pinschers stood far back, keeping watch for any disorderly behaviour. They were eager to see their new colleague perform for the first time, as was Rylan backstage and a handful of others pulling double-duty at the bar, serving customers in their skimpiest attire. Sammy and Derek were there, alongside Rebecca. Each had their own following. Gay...straight...bi...it all merged together in the low light of the club, as patrons lost focus of their own preferences; taken in by the sights, sounds, and sexuality on display.

The announcer boomed through his intro as the theatre lights drew themselves to centre-stage. A vacant pole stood there. Members of the audience cheered, eager for a night of passion. Stage Two rumbled, as subwoofers embedded in the structure growled to life. Music played. Not the ambient sensuality that had previously filled everyone's minds with filthy thoughts via soft suggestion — but a hard, loud, triumphant announcement of Violetta's next big performer.

This was the main event. The mysterious 'Venus' — a newcomer — was on first, to be followed by a series of more familiar dancers taking the stage. These performances were for everyone, not just small groups in private booths or those closest to a gyrating hybrid at a table. The audience was equalised, each person in the same boat, eyes fixed on Stage Two. They would all see what came next, and revel in it...

'Venus' appeared. First as a shadow in the spotlights as they swung side-to-side. Then, as the hypnotic drawl of the music reached fever pitch she was suddenly illuminated.

She saw them, and they saw her.

Her expression belied confidence...the no-nonsense presence of a schoolteacher, with a very naughty class...

The antelope strode further out, wrapped in dark red. Her clothing gave her a velvety texture, just a touch of roughness to scatter the light and cloak her in a mystifying glow. Her hips swayed in exaggerated motions, every part of her moving in sublime coordination. The stance she struck once her sultry walk forward came to an abrupt end, metres from the awestruck crowd, served to enhance her mystique. One hand rested above her hip, the other ran a course from her shoulder to her knee, stroking every which way on the path down. Bending over, she gave glimpses of cleavage, bound in sensual attire. Salivating mouths let their drool drip without care. From first impressions, she did her namesake proud.

Venus turned to the side, and faced the sleek metal pole that jutted from the centre of the stage. She kicked her back leg and tossed her head back, revelling in the lustful sheen that coated her fur and costume. If nobody lusted after her kind before, they did now. Her hybrid features were the focus of many eyes, wandering over her form. Her hooves lifted and planted themselves delicately as she circled the pole. Long, luxurious legs made wide steps — causing the curvier parts of her to bounce to a delicious rhythm. The anthro's confident stride remained unbroken, even as she gripped the pole and swung herself faster and faster around it, much to the delight of the audience.

Then, suddenly, she stopped. Perfectly ceased, in direct facing towards the crowd — only the slender silver of the pole between them. Her pause let them simmer over her costume. Stationary. Picturesque. Above her ankles, and bare hooves, criss-crossing ribbons formed like tall sandal-straps the entire length of her lower leg. They converged, denser and denser — covering more of her limbs until they met solid red stocking past the knee. Beneath a shallow skirt, suspenders held everything together. A warm, cosy silk lingerie clad her from the waist to between her legs, clinging with a thin string to her body. As one followed the lines of her form up to her belly, perched atop a wide pair of hips, her gown parted. Raw fur hinted at taut flesh beneath. Her figure slimmed like an hourglass, soft curves yet there was enough lean muscle to announce her animal strength. Her chest swelled, contained by a large brassiere in red and black that kept her gorgeous tear-drops supported. The mounds of her cleavage sunk a deep ravine between them, enhanced by the bra. Her shoulders were bare, but her upper arms were covered in a partial sleeve of similar material to her stockings. There was a small amount of transparency, which let the duller colour of her hide break through. A single silk ribbon extended from her wrist (where the sleeve ended) and traced its way up to her index finger, tied around it by a small loop of material.

Above her neck, however, was where the grandeur of her costume could be seen. The bare fur travelled from collar to jaw, before meeting a sculpted mask that fit her perfectly. It covered the area around her eyes and the ridge of her snout, where it met the rest of her head — attached by sheer willpower, and a couple of trade secrets of Violetta's. The eye holes were wide enough to show daring lashes, and wonderful shadowing that complimented her red/black colour scheme. Her snout had a couple of dashes of ink makeup to bring out its contours...its slim perfection. From where her mask was fitted, streams of this dye cascaded forth, forming curls and complicated floral patterns as it swept around her head. Her ears each had a stripe of crimson that ran up to the tip, that illuminated each flick. Finally, at the end of her graceful snout, a rich lipstick coated her juicy lips. Slick and sexy, their seal parting only to allow her tongue to taste the excitement of the room — darting in furtive, yet sensual, sweeps...curling to kiss the corner of her mouth.

The illusion was without parallel. Venus emerged straight out of myth, in front of all, and into the flustered minds of everyone present.

With audience patience at risk of faltering, she leapt into action. Literally. Her first move of the performance was to catapult herself up the length of the pole, almost her own height! The crowd 'ooed' as she clambered up the pole and held herself in a sensual pose, left arm and right leg outstretched, the others keeping her secure. She began a gradual descent and twirl, letting her body spin slowly. As she did so, she locked her legs together and removed her hand from the pole, leaning back and allowing her top half to descend ahead of her. Upside-down, she offered a peek at her bosom again.

After several seconds, she returned to an upright posture. Her whole body coiled and writhed around the pole, her stance adjusting. Her hips clung to the cold metal, followed by her chest and arms. She found footing as her descent came to a close, standing with partially-splayed legs. Venus ran her hands down it and across her body, taking with her the first article of clothing — what could be called 'clothing' only in indecent company...

The audience watched her slowly tease the ribbons that wrapped around her shins. They peeled and came loose, sliding over her as she manipulated the flow of the silk. Like a snake they coiled, flowing over her thighs, hips, belly, and chest. Her newfound admirers were dragged to the edge of their seats with the relentless teasing of the ribbons. Both legs stripped of some of their cladding, Venus rubbed them together gently. She let out a shiver and a gasp, in mimicry of the cold. No-one made a sound. This was too good to miss!

Next, she moved around the pole again, a silk ribbon in each hand. As she swung and gyrated the hybrid threw each ribbon out in vast loops, from shoulder to fingertip. During her performance, she wrapped both ribbons around the pole, tying them into a bow and allowing her to suspend herself better. While getting into position for her next move, she blew a kiss to the audience, accompanied by a wink plus a jiggle of her hips and tail. The music offered the perfect companion to her dance. Long and sultry notes blared out over the sound system; a rapturous cacophony, that froze each audience member in a state of wanton bliss...the completion of all their heart's desires just out of reach...mere inches from their scrabbling mitts and slavering maws.

Venus threw herself into her next routine, discarding the ribbons. The two streams of fabric were cast off either side of the antelope, falling to the stage in gentle heaps. She gave them a few more twists and twirls before stroking her fingers across her fur, collecting sparks of lust as they exploded from the crowd. She combed her fur with her hands, her palms gracing her chest then travelling across her belly and around to her plump rear. Facing away from the audience, the hybrid shook her ass with gusto. The wobble of half-naked cheeks stoked the fires, and in an instant she'd swung back around and stripped off her sleeves and stockings. Now just the bra and panties were left, along with her mesmerising masked visage.

As her nakedness neared completion, the thirsty onlookers cheered — finally breaking the long silence they held under the oppressive force of the music and lighting. Venus smiled, and pumped up the crowd with further sensual dancing. She fed off their infectious energy. As they lusted, she grew stronger. Her confidence shone as bright as the stage-lights. She was through a good portion of her act, and though those watching didn't or couldn't know this, she was discovering things long lost to youthful indiscretion. Feelings that threatened to consume her, surrender her soul to the adoring masses. All everyone else saw, including other dancers and staff of the club, was the birth of a star.

And she blazed in infinite majesty.

For the next ten minutes she danced, dazzled, and dared to go higher than she'd ever gone before. The audience adored her — watched her every move, spin, kick, and flourish with intensity. Venus ruled the stage. She alone, on the elevated platform, took inventory of every salivating soul searching for a fresh tease, and gave them what they wanted. In no time at all she was naked. Completely. Stripped to the fur for their entertainment. Prancing around with her long legs and elegant gait, turning her natural fluidity into a carefully-controlled system of pleasing motion. Plenty of fun with the solitary pole in the middle of the stage was had, and she found she was no stranger to the deep desire to exhibit oneself. To Molly, a.k.a. the Lady Venus, her dream job proved truer than she ever expected. Those in the know could see it clear on her face.

As the performance plunged into overdrive, with her undulating...gyrating form drawing out the most magnificent animal magnetism, she paid close attention to her timing and steps. She performed with practised ease, well-rehearsed. Flawless. The flittering folds of bills drifting her way from excited observers built up over time. Soon, the stage floor was littered with money. Serious money.

Venus left her pole and strode along the edge of the stage, skirting the rim of her performative reality. Her hooves clomped like heels, rattling the floor and matching the rapid-beating hearts of those closest. Those close enough to touch...to taste the very air she graced with her presence. They could see the texture of her fur, the stiff stubby horns protruding from her head, the long ears, the bounce of her tits and quake of her ass, the puffiness of her short tail as it tickled her cheeks...all was visible as she strode by.

She walked, from one side of the theatre to the other — its refurbished vaudeville charm bursting through layers of modern accoutrements. Old ornamental furnishings, salvaged from second-hand outlets, hid beneath the rich lighting rigs and sound systems — humming with the night-time vibration of the club. Beams split against curved wood, coated in black paint, with silver-grey railings spreading like tentacles around the perimeter. The music thrummed. The room shimmered with light. The crowd were held in rapt admiration...

Venus stopped on occasion to show her goods to the front-row. A bounce here, a twerk there, and a brief session of dry-humping whenever she doubled-back to her pole. More stuff got thrown from the audience. Money...flowers...clothes. One girl in particular — a striking feline morph with tufts of fur at the ends of her ears, dressed in a devilishly-rebellious manner — unhooked and tossed her bra onstage, much to her accompanying friends' disbelief. Everyone, human and hybrid alike, were hungry for more.

The antelope saw her admirer's clothing land, and smiled at the rambuctious feline. She turned and wiggled her butt for extra effect.

Some more time passed. The strain of her performance was beginning to get to her. She needed a break.

It would be time for one soon. She'd peaked at the height of the music. Now, it had been a long dwindling-down of her performance for some time. As the fever faded, Venus made her exit — but not before blowing a kiss to her new fans. Her mask shone in the darkness as the spotlights focused. Centre-stage, she made one more pass at the pole, to cheers and shouts of joy. After the last hurrah, she marched offstage, elevating her posture to accentuate the flexing muscle and billowing curvature of her body. The noise of the crowd had yet to die down.

As Venus neared the rear exit, other dancers emerged. Shift change. It was their turn to torment the hapless clientele with impossible beauty. She swept past decorated dancers, paying little heed. But she did take one last look at the audience — the blurry, dim, mass of furry and non-furry faces bunched together. Baying for more with each painful breath. She saw them, and some of her compatriots moving in from the sides to make their way among the seats and tables, joining in on the fun. The room resumed its normal operation, her debut complete. Daring, yes — but a fraction of a full show.

She grabbed the side of the broad doorway, holding firm and posing against its rigid structure. Several new poles had descending from on high by now, affixing themselves to the stage for the other dancers to take over. Venus, her time almost up, waved goodbye to the room and its occupants. A soft wave, nothing too melodramatic. Enough for anyone still following her to notice. And appreciate.

Then, she disappeared from view.

* * *

Molly/Venus parted ways, in mind and body, once she rounded the corner of the backstage area. She let in deep breaths, the toll of her first performance (a solo one at that!) wracking her body with aches and pains. Fuck...fuck me...

FUCK YES!!!

A triumphant fist balled in front of her, Molly slow to realise it was her own. I did it. Holy shit it went off without a hitch!

“Gah! Ah..."

“Phew!" She stopped, bending over. Running fingers over her face, she pried the stylized mask from its hold on her, and looked around the dark room for a spot to stash it.

Molly heard a clap, heavy and hearty. She knew who was creating it.

“Wow! Just...wow..."

As the shadows cleared, Rylan became visible to her — a strong smile conveying his awe.

“That good huh?" she asked, huffing.

“All thanks to my training. Welcome back Molly." He reached out to help her stand, pulling her up.

“Thanks," she said, using his bulk as a support, “I'm bushed!"

“For a debut performance you really went all out."

“It's what you taught me. Make an impression..."

“Something like that, yeah." Rylan chuckled. “C'mon, let's get you to your changing room."

They walked a short distance in the dark. Molly glanced at the equine. “Not dressed for the stage yet?"

Rylan shook his head. “Nope. Not on tonight."

“Didn't want to miss my show?"

“Heh. How could I not stay and watch?"

Molly smirked. “The audience seemed to enjoy it."

“As did I. You know the way I swing, but...even I got hard."

She snorted, quite unceremoniously given her grace and poise moments earlier. Rylan slumped his shoulders as they moved into a lit corridor. “T.M.I.?"

“What do you think?" she groaned, ending her sentence with a giggle.

When they reached her changing room, Molly let go of the handsome horse and stumbled through the door. Not falling — just a teensy tumble until she found purchase on the table. Rylan hovered at the entrance to the room, his size casting an all-encompassing shadow 'til Molly flicked the light switch.

“You know," he said, “Boss lady'll be thrilled to hear how things went."

Molly looked back at him. “She isn't here?"

“Oh no, she is. But on work nights it's all hands on deck most of the time. She probably won't get a chance to say hi to you before the night's over. Doesn't mean the rumour mill wont send things her way." He patted her shoulder, unperturbed by her nudity. For him, this was business as usual. “You want something to wear? Cold?"

“Nah. Just tired. But I'll recover."

“You better. Dance like that and you'll have people paying top dollar for private shows. I'm sure Rebecca's feverishly trying to take requests."

“Well...you tell her I can start in about a half-hour. Could do with some more...intimate engagements."

“Atta girl!" Rylan stomped out of the room. “Get some rest, and let someone know when you're ready to entertain again."

Molly answered back with an enthusiastic 'of course'. The hybrid sighed as she reclined in the changing room, watching herself on the mirror. The sparkle of the dye and ink on her face had started to fade — that would need a touch-up before going back out. And her costume...not important, she had plenty of lingerie to don for private dances. It won't be as extravagant as her stage performance, but who gave a shit when they get a chance to sit up close and personal with a gal like her? Though she was about to rest, the lure of this lifestyle kept her alert; adrenaline pumped through her, fuelling her excitement.

* * *

Elsewhere, many miles from Violetta, the door to Cade's home creaked open. In stepped the man himself, bags under his eyes from hours staring at a computer screen and not a lot of rest. Overdue a good night's sleep — or at least a power-nap — Cade hauled himself to a seat and collapsed. Jostling with the cushions, his face mashed against the couch, he flopped haphazardly upright. There wasn't a single thing he wanted to do more than stop thinking, but ages putting his brain through its paces had fucked up any chance of peace while he was sober. A nightcap. That's what he needed! Something to put his mind at ease. Not that he drank much anyway...

Still wearing his jacket, a splash of rain staining the couch cushions, he rose. Groaning, he approached the kitchen before a rumbling in his pocket stalled his advance. His phone buzzed. At first he thought it was a text message, but as the vibrations kept coming back he sighed and prepared to answer the call.

What struck him, in addition to the late hour, was the caller.

Molly.

Huh, what's she need at this hour?

“Hey," he answered, wobbling slightly.

“Hi Cade, did I wake you?"

“No, I just sound tired. This is a weird hour to call."

He could tell she felt bad about that. “Yeah. I know. I didn't think...my sense of time is all messed up right now. Late night at work."

The human walked back to his couch, and set himself down with a grunt. Molly kept talking: “I just wanted someone to talk to."

“Something wrong?"

“No—not at all! The opposite, in fact. I kinda hit it off on my first day...my first real day outside of prep...and I want someone to stop it from going straight to my head."

He chuckled. “Sounds like it's already well on its way!"

“Funny."

“Yeah."

“Hmmm...Cade..."

“Uh-huh?"

“I've been weird lately, especially to you — and I want to apologise. There's been so much going on recently and—"

“Molly, you don't need to spill all kinds over the phone. Just take a breath and tell me what's really going on."

“Yeah, you're right. Hold on." A silent pause ensued, wherein Cade caught some of the commotion in the background. Heavy music produced a muffled pounding 'neath the static. When he heard her return, he spoke first:

“I hear stuff. Kinda faint. Is that a bassline?"

“Uh, yes it is. I'll try to find a quieter place."

“No need," he said, “you're fine where you are."

“Okay. I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in hanging out more. I thought I might've scared you away last time."

“What? With the flirting?"

“..."

Cade listened for a second in case Molly replied, but when silence was all he was privy to he continued: “Don't worry. I flirted back. Call it even."

“Heh, well maybe we should get together and...flirt...again perhaps?"

He smiled. “Sounds like a plan."

Over the phone the crackle of Molly's resigned sigh reached him loud and clear. “Ugh, I'm being weird again."

“No, not that weird. Hey, if you're planning on forgetting this late-night call I can do the same. I was eyeing a drink or two before you rang."

“Oh?"

“Should help me remember this call in a better light, without the clumsy parts."

“Oh sure," she laughed, “I'll probably do the same."

Cade rubbed his face, and yawned. “See you then...Molly. Be sure to tell me all about your job next time we meet."

“Goodbye Cade, and will do! Eventually—heh! Thanks...I appreciate hearing your voice right now."

The connection ended. Cade let the phone slip from his grasp and plop unceremoniously onto the cushion. He shrank into the couch and let the Sandman entice him further. He thought about Molly. Hearing her voice did something for him as it did for her listening to his. Cade's pondering grew. Another day, another hint of longing and perhaps...intrigue. How she had a sort of hidden energy; he glimpsed it in its scarcest form when they spent time together, however brief.

He felt strange. As sleep took him he let the last conscious thoughts of his be of her. How she'd changed in such a short span of time.

How...attracted he was to her.

Honestly? I don't know what to make of it...

Molly.