I warned Kathy that she had already had one drink, but she said it would be OK since we were on the way home.Betty asked Kathy if we had went dancing and she said no. I don't dance, I have two left feet and each is connected to a broken leg. Gene said he didn't dance either, so all that left was Betty and Kathy. Betty asked Kathy if she wanted to dance and after a little time she agreed. Betty put on a stack of records and her and Kathy started dancing. The stack contained all types of music from the 60's. It wasn't hard to tell that Kathy was getting completely bombed. With every slow song that came on, her and Betty were holding each other closer and closer and the hands were starting to slip down the backs and onto each others asses.After a another song, fast this time, had ended and both of the girls took a sip of their drinks, the next number to play was "The Stripper". Betty jumped up and started to do the bump and grind. She held out her hand for Kathy to join but she wouldn't. It cut down on unnecessary chit chat.The deep vibes of electronic trance music pulsed through the dungeon. In and to the left was a small metal table covered in little plastic cups of Crisco, clear condiment bottles half-filled with lube and a couple open boxes of latex gloves. Magnus helped himself to a pair of medium-sized black gloves. After further consideration, he helped himself to a second set. He shoved both pairs into the back pocket next to the bandana and headed over to the bar. At one end of the bar stood three thirty-somethings, including the ginger from outside who now leaned against an oversize chain suspended between the ceiling and the floor. Ginger had stripped down to a neon pink jockstrap and the other two wore Spandex wrestling kits—with the asses cut out.At the small round tables in the shadows sat solitary men pushing 50, dressed in leather or the basic denim and black, slowly sipping their beers. One had a silver crewcut and matching stubble. He locked eyes.
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