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Claiming Her Power

For Dreixes

By Draconicon

Her experiences among the demons, werewolves, vampires, and others at the demonic club had made one thing clear: lacking any magic of her own, Sarina had to take charge of what capabilities she did have. Considering that intimacy with another species - particularly a supernatural or magical species - was her only way of getting an imitation of their powers, and in turn, the only thing that allowed her to operate on their level, she had to get comfortable with being intimate with other people. Very, very intimate.

The red and black dragoness shivered in the back rooms of the strip club, all too conscious of the way that her cock was trying to slide up from where she'd tucked it between her legs. The panties she wore felt all too small, and her pasties? Well, the little pink things barely stuck to her sweaty breasts, and kept trying to fall off to expose the red nipples below. Every breath she took threatened to shake them that little bit more than they were able to take, and she had to force herself to stillness to keep from losing her nerve.

You can do this...you can do this...

That was what she told herself, but the dragoness honestly didn't know. She looked around the corner, staring at the catwalk and the various males that were gathered there. No magical species here, nothing that would listen to a dragon just because she was a dragon. These were mundanes, waiting for some thrill that would keep them in their seats or send them to the streets in boredom. If she fucked up, she'd know it.

She took another deep breath as the latest performer, a doe that was just barely dressed in a g-string, turned back down the catwalk. It was almost her turn.

The doe turned to her at the end of the catwalk, winking at her as she pulled on a satin red bra. A luxury that was very much denied the dragoness, to her chagrin. The doe chuckled.

"First time?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," Sarina said.

"Don't worry. They're a bunch of guys. Long as you flash 'em a little T&A, there's nothing to worry about."

"...I'm not sure that I..."

"Hey, girl, don't worry about it. You got the goods. All you need is the confidence."

"Yeah...that's what I'm here to learn."

"Jumping in at the deep end, huh?" The doe nodded. "Respect that, but you better get moving. Boss doesn't like a gap between performers."

"Right, right."

"Go on. Get going."

The doe gave her a shove, and just like that, she was on the catwalk. Her eyes went wide as they could go, the room dimly lit save for the lights that streamed down on the catwalks. Two others went off to the side, but she was on the middle one. And she was a dragon, a species most people barely believed existed before she had made news by attending college around here.

All eyes went to her, and she could just imagine what they saw. A dragoness, red along her belly and down to her crotch - not that anyone could see it - and black everywhere else. A dragoness that stood just under six feet, not including the horns. A dragoness with a smaller chest and wider hips, with panties pulled tight to her crotch, with transparent high heels, who stood stock still as the lights over her head reflected off her glasses.

A dragoness. An impossible woman.

The music started thudding around her, and she moved forward, mechanically for a few steps before finding the rhythm. She felt the eyes on her, tried to tune it out -

No, no, enjoy it. They want you. They don't know what's between your legs. They see you as a woman. A hot woman. Take it. Try and enjoy it.

She remembered the way that her other companions had looked at her, how the demons had slavered over her, how the werewolves had looked at her as a mix between an alpha and a piece of meat to be rutted. All those things, all those needs -

Take it. Take it and enjoy it.

It was the only way to make this work. She was sexy. She knew she was sexy. So...people were seeing her, and telling her that she was right.

Reaching the end of the catwalk, she turned on the spot, one hand on her hip, the other on the pole beside her. She reached up and took hold of it for balance, fighting the wobble that was already coming up from her ankles, the heels making it hard for her to keep her balance. All eyes were on her, though the eyes were little more than glowing circles in the shadows, the people they were attached to rather indistinct, considering she was all but blinded.

Yet, as she turned, swaying her ass slowly, lifting her tail to let people see what she had to shake, there was some part of her that fought back against the shyness. They wanted her. They liked her. They wanted much more than a look.

They want me...I'm not just...a freak...

Taking a risk, she almost threw herself down the pole, holding it behind her back, between her wings as she lowered herself into a squat. A slut-squat, some called it, up on the balls of her feet with those heels, her hips thrust forward, the camel-toe of her panties pulled tight against her hidden dick. Just...just had to keep that illusion going for a bit longer.

Someone tossed a twenty her way, shouting at her.

"Take 'em off, girl! Let's see that pussy!"

A twenty for pussy? A pussy that she didn't actually have? Not a chance. She shoved it back with the edge of her shoe, only for someone else to try and grab her heel. She stiffened, only to feel someone sliding a bill between her ankle and the strap that held the shoe to her foot.

"Come on, how about some barefoot dancing, girl?"

"Perv," another male at the end of the catwalk said.

Apparently, though, he was hardly the only one. Two other guys leaned in, one bill sliding under her heel, the other further down and slipping under her arch. And...well, if she was honest, that was one exposure she didn't mind. She blushed a bit, feeling the heat in her black-scaled cheeks, and slowly stood, sliding one foot free, then the other, tucking the bills behind her back under the waistband of her panties.

The males cheered, and she strutted a bit, unable to help herself. Her nipples were going hard under the pasties, and it didn't take long before the stickers fell off. She gasped, her face going redder, but with the cheer of the crowd, she couldn't entirely help herself. She kept her hands at her sides, letting everyone get a look, and even managed to convince herself to give them a jiggle, swaying her shoulders from side to side.

That got the bills flying.

The money wasn't important, though. What was important was the feeling of being watched, being seen like this. It...it was validation, in its own way. Her cock...

Oh no.

It was stiffening down there, getting harder and pulling at the tape that was supposed to keep it down and out of sight. She stumbled, sliding, one foot sliding right to the edge of the catwalk and bumping a customer's nose. Muttering an apology and getting a lick in return, she dragged herself up again, looked towards the DJ for time, and saw the ticking clock. Two more minutes before she was allowed to leave the stage.

Oh god...oh god...

She felt more aware of her body than she had been for years. Every eye on her made her think of its faults before, but right then, she was aware of everything. Every step made her ass bounce, made her breasts follow, made her feel the air blowing across her body. She was hot, then chilled, then hot again. Her panties were wet in the center, and along the crack of her ass, too, pulling at her.

And her sweat ran down, down, down, making each step that much more treacherous, until she finally lost her balance. One foot came down wrong, slid on the slick glass floor, and she went down. Her legs spread, her hands went to the pole to keep from cracking her head, and something ripped just behind her.

And then...then the bulge showed.

She had her crotch pressed against her panties, her legs spread for the metaphorical and literal wolves and foxes and more that were gathered in front of her. There was no missing the bulge of a cock that hadn't been there before, particularly as the more they stared, the more that it went up, up, up, pushing the front of her panties forward and allowing one ball to slide out of the leg hole.

Oh god, oh god, oh god!

"Hey, what gives?"

"This ain't a dragoness!"

"Well, it's mostly a dragoness -"

"Yeah? Does a dragoness have one of these?!"

Someone - she wasn't sure who - reached out and pulled her panties. She tried - too late - to pull away, and all she did was rip them.

SPROING.

Her cock jumped up, in clear view of everyone in the room. Her heart jumped into her throat as the music died, and her cock danced, spitting pre-cum with the audience all around her.

They can see it, she thought. They can see...everything...

She couldn't even bring herself to breathe. She...she...

Then a hundred-dollar bill hit the stage. Who knew it? She didn't know, but she heard the words cutting through the silence that followed.

"Jerk it, dick-girl."

Jerk it.

Her hand moved to her cock, and she blushed as she wrapped her fingers around it. The eyes of the crowd were on her, and the money...the money began to grow. Others tossed smaller bills on, and the command kept coming.

"Jerk it, slut."

"Jerk it, whore."

"Jerk it, shemale bitch..."

Angry, but with an undertone of want. An undertone that...that she could manipulate. And that...that was something worth learning, too...once she could think again. Just touching herself, feeling it now...feeling all those eyes...

...Gonna be here again, she thought, feeling her first orgasm already on the rise.

The End

Summary: Sarina goes to a strip club to try and find some confidence for herself. It goes...interestingly.

Tags: S/solo, Intersex, Shemale, Insults, Humiliation, Exhibitionism, Strip Club, Dragoness, Panties, Clothes Ripping, Arousal, Sweat, Barefoot, Sarina, Doe, Various Species, Masturbation,